#during the day when i saw the black spots i was like i looked at the sun so thats why <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[4giorno]

even tho it feels like someone is scooping the left side of my head like ice cream i cannot be put down bc i trimmed my eyebrows last night and they look good as hell so. whos really winning

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞

❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞

✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K

It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 

But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 

It was him. 

You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 

“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 

He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 

“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 

Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 

He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 

And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 

Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 

And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 

And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 

Fuck. 

“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 

You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 

“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 

And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 

It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 

He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 

And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 

“I would,” 

And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 

Fuck. 

“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 

But how can you be quiet? 

The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 

And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 

And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 

He’s huge. 

The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.

“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 

“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 

“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”

Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 

And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 

He was too much. 

“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 

“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 

“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 

“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 

And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 

He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 

That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 

“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 

He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 

And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 

“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 

And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 

You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.

“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 

How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 

“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 

And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 

“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 

~~~~

The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 

And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…

You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 

“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 

“What are you—” 

“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 

“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 

“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 

“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 

“Mahito—“ 

“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 

Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 

You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 

“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?

Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 

“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 

“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 

This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 

“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 

“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 

“I will,” 

“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.

“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 

“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 

And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 

“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 

No time like the present, right?

“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 

And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 

“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 

“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 

“Have another lesson?” 

And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 

He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 

And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 

Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 

And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 

“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 

“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 

One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 

“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 

“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 

His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 

You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 

And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 

Your mouth runs dry. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 

Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 

“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 

And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 

His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 

His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 

He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 

And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 

Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 

He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 

“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.

“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 

And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 

“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 

“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 

“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 

Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 

“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 

The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 

“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 

“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 

God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 

~~~

The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 

“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 

You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 

You were picking up your boyfriend. 

He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 

note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!

tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious

[deebris]

From annoying to beloved

Homelander x fem!Reader

Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.

During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.

The reader is also kind of anxious.

Word count: 2.9k

"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"

"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.

"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.

He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.

"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"

You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.

No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.

This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.

When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.

Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.

He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.

"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.

"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?

The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.

"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.

"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.

"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"

You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.

"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."

"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.

Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:

"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.

When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.

"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.

"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.

He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.

"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.

You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.

"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.

"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.

"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.

After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.

It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.

You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.

During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.

"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.

"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.

"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.

"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:

"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."

Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.

With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.

"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.

He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.

That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.

The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.

You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.

Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.

Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.

The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:

"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.

You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.

He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.

For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.

"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.

"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.

"Why?" He ignored your apology.

"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.

"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"

"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.

"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.

"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.

"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.

[bitterrfruit]

southpaw

boxer!Ghost x reader, ghost is lefthanded and i won't argue about this cw: dubcon - 18+ mdni So this was supposed to be one long fic but then i got carried away, here's part one of two. forgive me. [read on ao3 if you want]

You met Simon at the pub, on a Wednesday. 

It had been an arduous day at work, and a long week, despite having only made it halfway through - and you were on a knife edge, exhausted and sour. It was visible at first sight of you, you wore it like a greasy, raggedy cloak when you leaned slump-shouldered over the bar. 

He had drawn your attention like a magnet the moment you spotted him, the towering buzzed-blond behemoth standing alone at a tall table, a half-empty pint glass in his thick fist. You’d shoot furtive little glances in his direction, and each time they were caught. 

Caught being the operative word - when you met his eye you were trapped there, forcibly hooked on him as he glowered at you like he was angry. His eyes were shadowed from where you were perched - requesting a gin and tonic, short - and you should have found that frightening. Instead the adrenaline in your belly fizzed like a pinger, a girlish buzz that made your hairs stand on end and your cunt all warm. 

You would not have begrudged any male attention, in fact you were long starved of it; but you felt guilty, in a way, subjecting a man to the state you were in. Short-fused and frazzled, thin knitted scarf wrapped tight around your neck, autumn coat slipping from your drooping shoulder. You dug around in your bag for your wallet when the bartender handed you the card reader, scooping frantically through the piles of receipts and hairclips and loose tampons. Offered sheepish apologies to him; so sorry, it’s definitely in there. I’m a mess! Long day, sorry. So sorry. Sorry. 

You jumped when you heard the thud of a light slap on the counter, the low huff of an exasperated man, sick and tired. Looking up from your bottomless satchel, you saw the tenner left beside the card reader, and the bartender nodded in thanks before taking it swiftly. 

“No problem,” came the gruff voice from above you, implicitly chastising your lack of thanks when you tilted your head upward to blink at him. 

He was pretty - your first thought - in a dirty, brutish sort of way. Heavy-browed and amber-eyed, with thick blond lashes and a deep golden stubble. He was adorned with freckles and little scars, slivers of pink and white, some fresh and some old. And when he smirked knowingly at your silence, a dimple pulled in his cheekbone, the crater of an injury once sustained. 

He had just been to the gym, you could smell it on him; ripe and heady, a musk you should have been more repulsed by than you were. Instead you savoured it like some little animal, turned your head at the raw pheromones as though a doe sniffing out her stag during the rut. You could also tell as much from his gym gear, grey marled wife-beater under his unzipped black hoodie, stained with dried sweat, navy blue sport shorts that sat high on his hefty thighs and strained over their magnitude. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” you said abashedly, giving him an awkward smile in the hopes of concealing your flustered embarrassment. 

“I didn’t,” he agreed, and he leaned on the bar by his elbow to get a shred closer to your height. Through a haughty growl, he insisted, “You gonna thank me?”

His brazen arrogance should have put you off. You quickly got the sense he was well used to these encounters - a presumption that you’d be grateful for his interest, a raffish ease that reeked of habitual sex. You wouldn’t have called him well-practised, nothing about him was suave or carefully preened. No, instead, he was viciously masculine in a primal sort of way, rugged and unkempt around the edges. A cold gaze and a serrated smile. The kind of man that oozed testosterone and potent virility without needing to utter a word in his own favour. The unashamed lack of effort was bait in itself. 

You might have dismissed him if it were a Saturday, and you had friends to discourage you and drunkenness to embolden you. But, worn-out and sober, you felt obliged to entertain the man that had paid for you. Besides, something about him gave you the impression his attention was non-negotiable. 

And once you had thanked him as requested, soon followed a superficially understated conversation, though every word felt laden with some lude prescience. A simple question, then a simple answer, each delivered with more weight than the last. I’m a mechanic. Was in the army. This one’s from a scrap, got hit with a chair. From Manchester. Don’t normally come here on Wednesdays, maybe I should more often. No, not married. Yourself?

Minutes bled quickly to hours, and you didn’t spend a cent on your own alcohol. Soon you had migrated to a booth, and your sticky table became the graveyard of three gin and tonics, tired lime slices floating in the melted ice as you mindlessly prodded at them with a soggy straw. You ogled him shamelessly from the other side of the table, resting your tilted head in your palm, elbow extended on the wooden tabletop. 

He was a gladiator. Broad shoulders, pure meat - every part of him was thick with muscle and padded with a warm layer of fat. Winter bulk. You imagined his mammoth arms would be soft and pillowy if you were to squish them with your hungry hands, but that they’d turn as solid as rock if he were to engage them more forcefully. 

You asked him if he normally did this, went to pubs on weekdays to prey on bored working women and got them drunk so he could fuck them. 

He shrugged, shook his head. “Don’t need to get ‘em drunk.”

His tone was cocksure but insincere, and you didn’t yet have a good enough read of him to determine whether or not he was joking. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he were something of a lothario, given how quickly you had been sucked into his orbit despite his astonishing apathy - and yet, something told you he was more of a prowling wolf than a peacock. The kind of man that sets his eyes on his quarry and is unsatisfied until he has her between his teeth. It made your heart shiver to imagine yourself that meal. 

“Just me, then?” You bit back, thanking the bartender when he brought over a fourth gin for you and a third pint for the Mancunian. 

He dropped his pint glass down hard after he took his hefty swig. “You’re putting up more of a fight than they usually do.”

“Fighting the inevitable, am I?” You teased, facetious but not entirely unserious. 

“You tell me.” Is all he said. 

When you checked the time and decided it was far past your bedtime, seeing four fuzzy hands on your watch, he offered to walk you home - never know who’s out this time o’ night. You decided to take him up on it, the plentiful alcohol pumping through your blood blurred your already dubious sense of self-preservation. 

His vast hand travelled boldly down your back while you walked, and in a more sober state you would have told him off. Instead you giggled demurely, flicked his hand away half-heartedly just to test how quickly he’d put it back. And when he took an audacious and greedy handful of your ass you yipped at him, falsely agog, but you did nothing more to stop him. He grinned as he did it, sharp teeth, kneading your soft flesh as though evaluating how it felt in his thick fingers. Determining its adequacy. 

Arriving at your door he stood behind you like a shadow, watching you key the lock and breathing down the back of your neck. Such a lecher, already so bold as to assume you’d welcome him inside, spread your legs for him after so little effort. When his hand slithered to your waist and took a presumptuous grip, so confident, you felt your fortitude begin to waver. Would it hurt? 

But as you spun on your heel you blocked him out with your body in the frame, and gave him a sweet and hazy smile. A chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Not lettin’ me in?” He asked, a grumble, with just enough mirth for you to lower your hackles. 

You traced along the jamb with your fingernail. “Maybe next time.”

A test, you drunkenly thought, for if he were really an unashamed cunthound you’d expect him to sulk, or to get grouchy, or to call you a fucking bitch for leading him on. Maybe, you wondered, he might dismiss your refusal entirely, shove you into the apartment with an angry paw and make you fulfil your unspoken proposal. Not much of a fight you could put up, if he were such a beast. 

Instead, he merely gave you a rakish grin, and brushed your chin with his thumb. “Next time, then.”

Next time came unexpectedly on the Friday, shortly after you had come home from work; freshly showered and lotioned, you answered the knock on your door in only a blue towel wrapped around your torso. Confronted immediately by the gargantuan man on your doorstep, you stepped back in fright. 

There were smudges of oil on his ruddy cheeks, grime embedded deep into the fibres of his black work jacket. With his fists in his pockets, a cigarette jutting out of his pursed lips, he sniffed brashly in the cold. “You busy?”

Your eyes scanned him shrewdly for a short moment before the memory came speeding back to you, flew across your face like a slap, and he gave you a fleeting smirk when he saw your eyes widen and your cheeks go red. The stranger from the pub remembered your address. Not something you considered as you stupidly welcomed him to walk you all the way home. 

“I’m not inviting you in,” you murmured, adjusting your towel higher on your chest when you felt his gaze warm the cleavage it failed to conceal. 

“Come out, then.” 

His imperious persistence was another warning you should have heeded, bright red and clear as day. Not often a man so obstinate is worth pursuing. Better avoided. His resolute silence compelled you, though, made unspoken demands that you dared not refuse. He wasn’t asking, he was telling. 

You didn’t recall his name until he reminded you, after you had already gotten yourself dressed and met him out the front of your apartment; Simon. You smothered your more rational counterpart with a pillow, shutting her up when she warned you about going out with the man that showed up uninvited on your doorstep - particularly this one, who had your intuition screaming at you so ferociously. Play stupid games.

He hadn’t planned a date, no prior effort had gone in beyond the sudden compulsion to come and try his luck.

“Didn’t want you to forget me,” is what he told you when you asked. 

You went with him to get fried chicken - his choice, an option wasn’t given - and ate it together on a park bench. Unsophisticated and to the point, a din of crunching and sucking on toothpick bones, broken up occasionally by your coy laughter. He made no effort to conceal a potently authoritarian nature, one you had as yet only caught glimpses of, and you were ruefully drawn to it. Reared its head when he told you where to sit, how fast to walk, what not to talk about. When you had demurely requested a single small punnet of hot chips from the food truck, and he had snorted at you; “Don’t take the piss. More than that.”

You shared a cigarette with him, sat under the bare elm tree and observed the chipmunks that came to feed on the crumbs of fried batter. Talked about nothing until the sun had set and the frost began to settle. 

After returning you home he quickly had you trapped against the front door of your flat, laving your flushed neck with his ravenous mouth, tongue under your jaw like he was tasting you. Palmed your cunt through your jeans with a thick hand, uncaring of passersby, and you let him persist, just for a little bit - selfishly, you thought, because you weren’t going to let him sink his cock into you yet. 

It was simply an experiment, you told yourself. Some part of you was well aware of the fire you were playing with, warning you vociferously about what happened to the curious cat. And that you were - dangerously eager to know for how long he would pursue you if you abstained from presenting your cunt to him off the cuff. What might happen if you dangled your prizes in front of his nose and continued to withhold them. 

His hand was so big, warm, strong like he might lift you up by it. He knew exactly where to press the heel of his palm to push a needy whine from your throat, right at the throbbing crux of your heat. If you had let him continue kneading you unfettered you’d have pathetically come inside your jeans before you had even taken him inside. 

You clutched his wrist to thwart his efforts, flustered and out of breath. Sheepishly warned him; “I - I don’t put out until the third date.”

Not a conviction you’ve ever held firm on, but it has been a long while since the last time you had taken a man home. You were slightly fearful that the second you let him fuck you, he’d be satisfied and spent and move on to the next helpless woman at the pub who couldn’t find her wallet. And, in truth, you relished in starving him. Delighted in the appetite you could see swelling in his belly, frothing at his jaws when he glowered at you under dark lids. 

He huffed mournfully, patience waning, as he removed his hand from between your legs with a purposeful swipe. Grumbled huskily, “You’re really testing my strength o’ character.”

You chuckled breathily as you fondled the door handle behind you, letting out a puff of relief when it gave way to you and you stumbled onto your back foot into the foyer. You could guess what he implied from his crude remark - barely a veiled threat, and yet you were only more eager to peer under the shroud. 

“Mustn’t be very strong if you can’t wait a little longer,” you prodded, emboldened by the false safety of being indoors. 

He nodded, gritting teeth as he adjusted his jacket. “You make it weak.”

Your throat nearly closed at that, the air suddenly warm and acrid. “Well, I hope you can hold strong till then.” 

He let out a hoarse groan, rubbing his neck with stiff knuckles. Dints pulled in his temple as he clenched his jaw, exerted no effort to mask his frustrations. 

“Wednesday count as date one?” He asked stiffly. 

You pursed your lips as you thought of a response, conscious that if it were the first ‘date’ - in heavy quotes - he’d expect your cunt on the next. You would likely not have bemoaned that, given the thumping you felt already in the peak of your swollen bud, the slick that you felt soak into the gusset of your underwear after such moderate attention. But it was a bit of a game, now, wasn’t it? A creature within you, one whose nature was perhaps a cause for concern, wanted to see if he would crack. Wanted to know what he would do to you if he did. 

“No,” you told him. 

With a terse nod, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and left. 

Date two came to pass on the Sunday, as presumptuously as the first, but he had at least sent you a text from an unsaved contact beforehand; picking you up in 10. 

You didn’t recall giving him your number, but wistfully assumed you must have put it in his phone on the drunken night you met him. 

With nothing better to do, you replied, what am I wearing? 

Dress. 

Following his blunt text like it were an instruction from your manager, you dug through your closet for a dress that would suffice - nothing too dressy, you didn’t want to expend too much effort - and nothing too provocative, lest you provoke him. Settled on something plain and black, dense cotton with a bit of flow and sat low on your neckline, but not too low. Once you were dressed you snapped a photo of yourself in your floor-length mirror, concealing your face with your phone, and sent it to him for his approval. 

He replied after a few minutes; No stockings. 

You frowned as you typed out your answer. It’s cold though. 

He never followed up, and you took off the stockings. 

When he arrived to pick you up in his black off-roader pickup and you hopped inside - he didn’t open the door for you - you immediately spotted a big purple welt protruding from his cheekbone, fresh and throbbing and speckled with broken capillaries. You asked him if it was the result of another ‘scrap’, so he called it, and he shook his head.

“Match last night,” he told you, before shrugging it off. Then joked - or, intended to joke; “You should see the other lad.”

“Match?” You asked him to clarify, perhaps stupidly, as he revved the rumbling engine of the four-wheeler and drove off like he was in a hurry. 

The cab of his truck smelled like tobacco, and the redolence of old sweat embedded in his seat; from how often he’d hop in unshowered after working out, you guessed. There was a tired old Evian bottle in the cup-holder of the centre console, next to it a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a clear orange lighter. The passenger seat was stiff and dusty, you must have been one of very few people to have sat in it.

“Boxing,” he answered. 

A boxer, you thought to yourself, eyes clinging to his bulky arm as it gripped and shoved the gearshift; forearm turning stiff as you had imagined it would, where it peeked out from the rolled sleeve of his black crewneck. Thick veins ran in webs under his skin. Tendons bulged in the back of his hand. Now that you looked more closely, you could see the bruises on his knuckles - some turned ochre yellow with age, others fresh and plum and looked tender to the touch. He’d have to have been a heavyweight, given the fucking size of him. Built like a bear, wide set and heavy and so comically tall that he looked too large for the cab of his own truck. 

He took you out for dinner, a proper date, he called it - a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant with four tables and a single waitress. Far more of a date than his last two attempts - you briefly considered counting this as date number one. He ordered himself two meals, an unsurprising quantity, and requested that both be as hot as the chef could make them. 

You asked him about his boxing, and he said that he made some money from it but not quite enough to live on. That you probably wouldn’t have seen him on the telly, because he usually fought in the undercards and didn’t like the cameras. 

Told you under his breath that he made more cash when the games were ‘under the table’. What that meant you weren’t certain, and he kept it thrillingly vague. “No gloves,” was how he explained it, “and no referee.” You told him that sounded illegal and he only gave you a shrug.

“Are you any good?” You asked with a kink in your brow. 

He smirked at you, mouth full of rendang. “I’m alright.”

Something in his tone told you he was being humble. You felt a little giddy. “You ever knocked someone out?” 

“Did last night,” he admitted indifferently. 

You questioned him a little more. “Are you a violent person?”

He tilted his head either way as though considering his answer, shovelling a hunk of beef folded in naan into his mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. “Not all the time.”

A little shaken, you asked if you should be worried. 

“I can be gentle,” is what he answered, with a lidded glare and the faintest smirk that flickered in his lips. You didn’t believe him. 

After he paid for your meal - told you crudely to shut it when you offered to split the bill - he put you in his truck ostensibly to drive you back home. But when he missed the turn that he should have taken, you shuffled disquieted in your seat, lacking the bravery to mention it just yet. Perhaps he was simply taking an unfamiliar route. 

He must have noticed your unease, because he turned his head to look down at you, but he did little to assuage your discomfort. 

“Takin’ you to mine,” he declared bluntly, as though reminding you of a fact you already knew. 

You blinked at him, felt the prickles of adrenaline creep down your neck like a nettle sting, an alert from your primal subconscious to a looming threat. “This is only the second date,” you diffidently reminded him. 

“I know,” he said, through a toothy grin, apparently amused by your skittishness, “‘m not ready to let you go just yet.”

You nodded stiffly, chewing on the inside of your cheek and picking your nails in an anxious habit. You weren’t frightened of him - despite the awareness that you should be - if you truly were, you’d kick up much more of a fuss. But he was quite unreadable, purposefully so, and what could you possibly do if he decided he wasn’t interested in waiting any longer? Win stupid prizes.

“Don’t panic, love,” he asserted, reaching his burly arm over and taking hold of your knee, thigh dwarfed by his hand as he gave your meat a quick squeeze. “Not interested in takin’ what I haven’t earned.”

His terraced flat was modest and unadorned, a skinny three-storey house sandwiched between rows of similar boxes. Two windows per floor. A layer of tan stucco smeared over its brick. No garden, only some moss and a few sprouting weeds, and a wrought iron fence that lined the sidewalk out the front. 

He pulled his pickup to a stop on the side of the road, killed the engine and barked an order at you as he opened the door, “Out y’get.” 

The street was barren and dark, and every breath you let out echoed in the lifeless silence. Not even after nine in the evening and the neighbourhood seemed to be devoid of inhabitants, only one or two windows glowed from within - an indication of at least some life. You felt a chill as you stepped out onto the road, tightened your arms around your torso as you wandered bashfully behind him to his front step. He huffed impatiently as he jammed his keys in the lock, shoving and shimmying them loudly until the door reluctantly gave way to him. 

He marched into the depths of his flat, swallowed by the darkness within - didn’t bother to turn on the light. You only saw which direction he had headed once a yellow light flickered on in a distant room down the hall. Shutting his front door behind you, leaving it unlocked, you quietly walked in the direction of the light. 

His flat was painfully undecorated. Raw, messy with clutter and miscellaneous belongings, in stacks and piles, on tables and chairs. Torn open envelopes, old socks, misplaced boots. Jackets hung over the bannister and sweaters over the backs of his seats. You found yourself in an open kitchen and living room, bare save for the odd piece of secondhand furniture and empty bottles of beer dotted about the place. 

You found him leaning into an open fridge, illuminated by its dim bluish light. “Can I getcha somethin’?” 

 “Um,” you pondered, failing to conceal your unwelcome nerves, a shiver in your voice. “No - thank you, I’m okay.” 

He shrugged as he shut the fridge door with his elbow, a bottle of Carlsberg dwarfed in his hand. Stuck the top in his open mouth and popped off the cap with his teeth in a horrid crack, spat it aimlessly into the kitchen. “Suit yourself.”

He left you standing like a fool as he went to sit himself down on his sofa, landing in it with a gruff and satisfied sigh. Sunk into the cushions and spread his knees to make himself comfortable, big enough that he took up two seats of the three-seater. He reached for the remote and turned on the telly, volume low, but audibly some football game or other. 

His eyes fastened on you, though - narrow and pointed as though you had been caught in his crosshairs. He tipped his beer into a jutted jaw, took a noisy and insouciant sip. 

“All shy now?” He asked. 

A defensive no caught in your throat and it emerged as a quiet hiccup. You wanted to smack yourself. “I just - I’m not sure why I’m here.” 

He huffed testily. ”Want to go home, do you?” 

You knew you should say yes. “No - no it’s not that. I’m - I’m okay.” 

He cracked a grin, a flash of teeth before it vanished. “Do I make you that nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” you retorted, voice higher-pitched than would otherwise be convincing. 

“C’mere, then.” He gestured a lazy hitherto with three fingers, an edge in his glare. 

Your feet were moving before you disputed. “What for.”

“Siddown,” he grunted.

Better judgement hammering at you, you hesitated before you obeyed, standing in front of him but just out of reach. 

“What’re you so afraid of, sweethear’,” he asked richly, and you blinked at him before looking down at your hands. 

“I’m not,” you insisted. “Just not - not really used to this sort of thing.” 

“No?” He questioned with aplomb, pride oozing from him like crude oil. “Been a while, has it?”

You fawningly shrugged. “Guess so.” 

“Am I taking you home, then?”

The second time he had offered it, though this time there was something discerning in his tone; cocksure yet challenging, a last call. Resolved, you sat down mousily in the cushion next to him. Shrivelled so that you took up as little space as possible, held your arms tight to your body. 

You shook your head, steadfast. “No, that’s okay.”

He let slip a grin at your answer, canines sharp and catching the glint of the dim television in front of him. You thought he might hang his mammoth arm over your shoulder, or rest a hand on your thigh; might test the waters with a noncommittal touch to see how you reacted to his crossing of the boundary. 

But he had no such subtlety nor restraint - instead he slipped his hand behind you and hooked you by the waist, hoisting you one-armed from your distant spot with the ease of picking up a house cat. You let out a sharp gasp as he plonked you on his left knee so that you straddled it, back firm against his side as he riveted you in place with his forearm.

You yelped as you were made to forcibly bestride his thigh, left tongue-tied in your shock and momentarily unable to utter a word of dispute. Heart set to panic, scarcely able to subdue your hurricane of thoughts, you exerted all effort wriggle out of his grip - bucked and twisted and pulled, all painfully futile. 

His strength was unfathomable and frightening, the muscles of his only restraining arm hardly even tensed to hold you in place. It was easy for him. He briefly leaned to the side to dump his beer on the side table. 

You barked;  “Simon - let go of-”

Me was muffled by the right hand that swiftly sealed over your mouth, fingertips burrowing into your cheeks, the top of his hand tucked under your nose and barely allowed you to suck in a breath. 

He shushed you quick and sharp, and you let out a defeated moan as you persisted in your attempts to writhe free. You clamped your legs closed around his thigh as if you might seal off your cunt from him, but he simply let out a breathy chuckle - lightly bounced his knee to remind you that he had you wedged open as he pleased, and the force beared down on your centre with each jolt had you squeaking like a mouse into his palm. 

“Settle down,” he chided, stern-toned, you felt the coarse stubble of his jaw scrape down the side of your face as he craned his head beside yours. “Don’t you kick up a fuss now.” 

His colossal paw raked up your thigh, hitching the forgiving fabric of your skirt along with it and leaving pointy gooseflesh in its wake. 

Still you squirmed, but your defensive tenacity was rapidly fizzling away - doused with the sobering knowledge that you had made the very bed he was now forcing you to lie in. 

“You knew what you were after when you came out, didn’t you,” he snarled, accusing, lifting the hem of your skirt up to your belly. 

You shook your head as ferociously as he allowed you to, his suffocating hand stifling both your movement and your breathing. You whined into his clammy palm, hoping he’d be able to translate the sounds you made in place of words; not yet. 

Whether or not he understood, he ignored you; his fingertips clawed over your mound, catching in the thin fabric of the plain underwear you wore under your dress - dug into the leg hole where the hem sat against your groin, before yanking it to the other side. He tugged at the elasticated cotton, shimmying the gusset so it was entirely out of his way; cunt bare and exposed, your vealy lips rubbed raw against the rough denim of his jeans. 

“Like a cat in heat, eh?” He grumbled, feeding his imperious hand between your legs where they were held open by his titanic thigh. Jammed his thick fingers into your folds without hesitation, indifferent to your whimpering. 

His solid nose buried under your ear, right into the underside of your jaw, and he took a deep and wolfish sniff.  “Can fuckin’ smell it on you.”

You winced as he pressed the pads of two fingers against your twitching opening, not yet slick; nudging at the precipice as though hoping to milk you of your nectar - but he didn’t puncture you. Instead, he languidly dragged them back up to your timid bud where it was hidden under its hood, used your scant fluid to barely lubricate his incursion. 

He bucked his knee, making you bounce into a better position for him. Began chafing circles with the tips of mean fingers, kneading out your clit with a steady pressure that made you sob into the palm of his restraining hand. 

He was deft, knew how to make quick work of you - you felt your watery blood turn viscous and hot, it flooded down the middle of you as though spiralling an open drain. Pumped warm right into the centre of your bud and made it shudder and swell, twitched with hypersensitivity.

Morally, you spurned it, fought against it viciously - the man so arrogant and cruel as to forcibly pleasure you despite vehement protest. But your feeble body spoke far louder, betrayed you with its carnal appetite. Your acrid resistance turned to pudding under his abrasive hand. 

No longer wrestling, your hips leaned into him, spine arching and curling, flesh so pathetically desperate for purchase that it begged implicitly in spite of your expressed dispute. 

He sensed your blossoming acquiescence, heard your grunts and moans of defiance melt into high-pitched, needy whines; you felt his wrenching grip of you soften and a rough smile curl against your cheek. 

“Tha’s it,” he purred, low voice thrummed directly into your skin. You could only mewl into his palm like a trapped animal, his hand growing wet against your mouth. “Tha’s what you were after, eh? All that whingeing.”

A wanton oh, fuck, was muted by his palm as he slowed and eased his pace, no longer toiling to subdue you. With two fingers flat against the crux of your folds, he ran them up and down your seam - uncovering your puffy clit with each upward stroke and making you flinch with the shock. 

You tightened your legs around his thigh on reflex, curling your pelvis away from his touch as you grew so sensitive it began to burn - but your range of motion was sorely limited, and relief you could not find. 

He removed his smothering hand from your mouth and smoothed it down your waist, finding the meat of your hip and taking a fastening grip. Anchored your pelvis still and held you down, exacerbating the pressure on your cunt; parting it like a butterfly and grinding his coarse denim against flushed lips, you felt your slick seep out of you and soak the fabric underneath it.

You rocked your head back against his collarbone, feeling its rigidity at the back of your skull, and your eyes fluttered shut; you felt his hot breathing on the side of your head, an airy chortle at your whimpering capitulation. He only slowed his infliction, gently grazing your yearning clit as though to tease it, to force you to debase yourself as you pleaded for his brutality. 

“F-fuck-” You mewled, face flustered, skin febrile - you were suddenly so infuriatingly close, wracked by a surging current that shuddered into your core and made you spasm and shiver. The dawning heat was abruptly overpowering, and you leaned desperately into his hand to chase it. “Simon - Please - I-”

Every attempt you made to speak or complain was bitten off by an indulgent sob, weak and pleading cries, begging him to release you. 

“Please, what?” He gloated deeply, you could hear his smug grin without having to see it. “Speak up.”

Your mind was frayed, and your tongue was fat and heavy in your mouth. You squeezed out your answer through a strained whine; “I’m - I’m going to-”

“Y’gonna come, are you?” He mocked, voice rumbling and cruel. Seemed to find immense satisfaction in your pathetic desperation. 

He pressed down on your scalding clit and forced a pained cry from your throat when you failed to answer him.

“Y-yes,” you bawled, driven close to pitiful tears.

He pinched your plump and angry bud between his fingers and made you jolt, before he let out a chuckle, and his hand glided out from between your legs. Left glossy trails of your syrup up your mound, your belly, as he abandoned you. 

An agonised groan lept from your chest as you buckled forward, wrecked with desperation, suddenly and brutally hollow. 

“Taste o’ your own medicine, eh?” He crooned, haughty, he smacked the side of your thigh with two firm pats as if to reassure you. “I don’t put out easy, either.”

You only sobbed, deafened by the thunder of your throbbing blood in your ears, cunt still so ravenous you were rendered a slave to it. You were unconsciously grinding your cunt on his thigh, rocking your hips, hissing at the abrasion of the denim on your clit - but it was better than nothing. 

“Look at you,” he snorted, leaning back on the sofa with his arms hung over the back, as if to enjoy the show. As he reached for his abandoned beer, he chided; “Fuckin’ needy slut, aren’t you?”

He glided a hand up your spine as you rode his leg like a little animal, and maybe you could finish yourself off like that, if you tried hard enough - but his claw settled at the back of your neck and took malicious hold. He yanked you back by it so that your head knocked against his shoulder, the angle he had you at starving your clit once more. 

“‘Nuff o’ that, sweethear’,” he muttered into your temple. “You can wait, like me.”

You whimpered, the humiliation finally having caught up to you - it rained over you cold and bitter, and you suddenly wanted to run and hide. 

He put both paws on your hips, then, and hoisted you up and off of him - dumped you into the sofa cushion beside him and you landed with a bounce. 

You grunted bitterly, still panting. “You’re such a-” you breathed, twitching. “Prick.”

“Careful,” he grumbled, scolding you, and you sealed your lips. 

After a short and breathless silence, you heard him chuckle to himself as he stuck his beer between his lips, swallowing a frothy sip as if he hadn’t just left you a wreck. 

You glanced at him, to see what was so funny - and you saw him swipe his thigh with his thumb, a mortifying patch darkened by your slick, more than you had thought, soaked through. 

“Fuckin’ mess you made,” he jeered, voice low and harsh as though distracted. He grunted out a tiresome sigh. “Gonna be tough to wait for date three, eh?”

You only nodded, mind blunt and blurry, suddenly remembering the rule you had set. 

“What’ve you got in mind,” you puffed, shimmying your dress back over your thighs to regain some of your stolen decency. 

He sucked his teeth, rocked his head as he took another sip of his Carlsberg. 

“Come watch me fight,” he said. 

[iid-smile]

sunrise and sunset , nanami kento

x fem!clingy!reader ! nanami calls the reader "love" and "darling". the reader cuddles with nanami!!! the reader also loses sleep because of his love because thats cute.

author's note: nanami is so yellow but there's no option for it so he has to be orange </3 tell me why i was actually swooning while i was thinking about these scenarios in my head? especially the second one???? i think everybody agrees that nanami is a listener 100%

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sunrise.

nanami always wakes up before you. he used to get up as soon as his eyes opened, but nowadays, he has a little something holding him down.

it seems like you never fall asleep on your side. that's partly his fault, since he's always beckoning you to come closer to him. but even then, in the morning, he feels himself teetering off the edge of the bed, with two arms wrapped around his neck, and his now asleep arm still wrapped around your waist. slightly dangerous for him, but as long as you feel comfortable, then nothing else matters. seeing your pretty face first thing every day was a blessing.

"kento..." there it is. your tiny mumbles of you waking up.

nanami's lips immediately curl upwards at the sound of your voice. as gently as he can, he sits up more against the headboard, keeping your head laid on his chest. "i hear you." he responds.

the bedroom is quiet and tranquil. he specifically bought black out curtains for your sake, but considering the price, they really weren't doing the best job. mornings in summer were relentless, taking into the account how early the sun rises, and it would wake you up in the middle of your sleep with how bright it was outside. no worries though, since he has plans to replace them very soon.

you mumble again, lips grazing against his shirt. "why aren't you up yet?"

"i don't have work today." obviously a lie. you may be a bit dumb, but you're well aware it's a weekday today, and nanami isn't the best liar.

you lift your head, gaze shooting up to meet with his. "yes, you do! it's a wednesday." you whisper-yell. "you should be up 'nd getting ready..."

"my day doesn't start until yours does." you feel his hand on top of your head, coaxing you to lay it back down. "if i'm late for work, that's fine. you're more important to me." his touch moves up to your upper arm, and his thumb rubs in lazy circles. "go back to sleep, love. you're tired."

"you're too sappy 'n sweet... gonna make me swoon every time you open your mouth, i swear." you grumble.

"then i'll catch you every time."

"stop!"

sunset.

nanami always reads a book before bed. it's usually historical genres, he's not a big fan of sci-fi or comedy. but sometimes, he'll let himself indulge in the odd romance book here and there. why? they're your favourite genre, the books you read. he memorises each different author that he spots you reading, often gifting you another one of their works if he knows you're not having a good day.

finally, you emerge from the bathroom door, a few folded clothes ready to be put away in the laundry hamper. when you turn to him, you watch his eyes intently as they follow the words on the pages. "that's..?"

"i saw you enjoying it this afternoon." he flips a page. you move closer to the bed, crawling on top of the mattress and inviting yourself into the blankets. "you looked particularly thrilled during it. what do you like about this story?"

you pause, thinking over the entire plot. "it reminds me of us."

nanami can only smile, and he doesn't miss the one on your face. closing the book, he places it on the bedside table, and scoops his other arm underneath you. naturally, you rest your head on his shoulder, and hook one of your legs over his. the small distance between the two of you felt that much more intimate that you felt the need to lower your voice. "are you going to sleep?"

"no." the hand wrapped around your waist moves up to your head, just placing it on top of your scalp. "i want you to talk. you seem eager to talk about it."

you giggle inwardly, snuggling impossibly closer to him. "i'm so in love with you." you whisper.

"i love you too, darling. more than words can express." he whispers back.

no wonder you always wake up so late. it's because nanami always has your heart beating too fast before you go to sleep.

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[nanivinsmoke]

Forbidden Fruit

Toji x F!Reader

okay okay i know i just wrote something about toji recently but got this man is on my mind… this might be pretty short.

summary : can’t help but to taste what’s not yours.

warnings : small age gap, reader is in her late 20s and toji is in his late 30s, sexting, phone sex, cheating (toji is married to your sister), cream pies, mentions of breeding, & some anal. nickname: daddy, mama princess….

you couldn’t help yourself each time he came around and neither could he. what started off as small as flirting, quickly turned into something more serious.

sneaking away to see you even though he was married to your sister? it was wrong. he knew it and you knew it too. but, who gave a damn? your sister wasn’t a good person either.

you saw this as her karma for her breaking up your past relationships. fucking and flirting each of your ex-boyfriends and telling you that they were “no good for you anyways” as her reasoning.

the affair between you started the day they got married. as you sat in your hotel room, your phone chimed and it was a message from him telling you that he couldn’t keep his fucking eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. the text followed with a picture of his boner behind his black boxers.

you couldn’t believe it when your first saw the message. you spent a good thirty minutes contemplating what should you do before you responded with a picture of your hard nipples, poking through your t-shirt you were sleeping in.

during his entire honeymoon, toji spent it sexting you. the both of you sending pictures and videos back and forth to each other, building up the temptation and excitement. the last day of their trip, he called you while your sister was asleep; voice raspy and sexy. he told you how they didn’t have sex this whole time they were away and that he needed some help to relieve the strain in his pants.

smiling, you sat on the edge of your kitchen counter and began teasing your nipples the more he talked. the more you pinched and listened to his voice, the hornier you became and before you knew it; you were two fingers deep in your dripping wet cunt.

“soo wet for you—fuck im cumming~” you breathed into the phone as your creamed right there on your counter top, putting the phone on speaker so he can hear everything. he was right behind you on the other end, grunting and moaning out your name; shooting a thick load out onto his hand. a few seconds later he sent you a picture of his cum filled hand, begging for you to come help him clean it up.

when he finally returned from his honeymoon he immediately hit you up, wanting to come and see you. he told you that your sister wanted to visit your parents for a week, which meant he wanted to be with you for that week as well. so, you spent the early hours of the day getting ready for his arrival.

fridge was stocked with food and drinks. you went shopping, picking out lingerie you thought he might like, but you know once he sees you in it; he’ll be ripping it off in a heartbeat. you thought about cooking for him, but decided against it because you aren’t his wife. instead you ordered takeout for the both of you.

you were wearing nothing but a tight fitting t-shirt and your panties, watching reruns of your favorite show; when you heard your doorbell ring, followed by a knock. clicking the television off, you got up from your spot on the couch and walked over to your front door. after checking the peephole, you opened the door and immediately pull him in a kiss.

your plump lips melting on his, kissing him like it was the last time you ever will. and when you parted from him, a trail of salvia followed after you which you happily licked up. “damn mama, missed me that much?” toji chortled, closing the door behind him and handing you the brown paper bag he had in his hand.

“hungry? there’s food in the kitchen” you told him, looking in the paper bag as you walked. he had two bottles of wine and a box of condoms. “condoms? we won’t be needing those.” turning around to look at him, he raised an eyebrow and chuckled. oh, he was going to have way too much fun with you.

he grabbed the bag out of your hand and sat it on a near by coffee table, before grabbing your hand and leading you to your plush brown couch. pulling you down on his lap as he sat, his huge hands rubbing your ass that wasn’t hidden by your panties. “not hungry, hm?”

“not for food” he said lowly, hand tugging at your panties; his forest colored eyes darkening by the moment. your body got all warm and the middle of your underwear started to dampen. “don’t worry baby, I’ve got something to satisfy your hunger~” your words fueled him and his lips pressed on your’s as he pressed you down on his crotch hard, his boner poking you through his dark grey sweatpants.

his lips moved from yours to side of your neck, kissing and licking on it; finding the sweet spot immediately. moans and whimpers falling out of your mouth, your arousal building by the second. you rolled your hips against his clothed cock, your slick seeping out and onto his pants. his hands gripped the hell out of your cheeks, halting your movements before he pulled away from your sweet neck. a whine escaped your lips and you looked at him with a pout.

“calm down, princess. this couch is way too small for me to fuck you the way i want to” the older male said, a smirk printed on his tan face—his scar rising when he does. it took everything in you not to pounce on him, getting up from his lap your face flushed with embarrassment when you saw the wet spot you left on him. his smirk deepened when he caught your gaze. he grabbed your hand and you led him to your bedroom, where your king sized bed sat.

wasting no time, he attacks your body again with lust fueled kisses—both of your clothes being tossed on the bed one by one. his big hands gripping your ass, spreading them apart while his cock pokes you in the front. your slick had made its way down to your ass cheeks, which he felt as teased your aching hole from the back. “toji~!” you whined, spreading your legs further apart; letting him tease you some more.

his scarred lip turned up into a smirk again, thick digit pushing its way inside of you, “please, just fuck me already~.” with one swift movement you were no longer touching the floor, instead you were in the air, his arms underneath your thighs holding you up. reaching under, you angled his girthy cock to your wet folds—rubbing your slick on it before pushing the fat mushroom tip inside of you.

wincing at the pain that came with it, you leaned closer towards his bare, sculpted chest, gripping at his shoulder blades. “you can take it~” he coached, wiggling his hips so his cock could move around in your tight canal—letting you get used to it.

“so fucking good—shhhittt, right there” your cries of pleasure echoed in his ear, the minute you got used to him and his pace increased. his balls slapped your cunt, getting coated in your wetness which drove you crazy. the more he moved the more his cock drove you crazy. if you new how good this would’ve felt, you would’ve fucked him a long time ago, way before he got married to your sister.

toji’s hands moved to your ass, squeezing the fat together—his stroke deepening with each thrust. the way he filled you up in each stroke made small drips of fluid leak from your cunt. “squirting already? pussy’s too fucking good~” hearing you whimper and mewl ignited something in him, his dick pushing into you harder and deeper than the last. you was sure your pussy would be stretched and sore when he got done with you.

the feeling of your walls clench rapidly around him made him go insane. “you’re gonna cum for me, daddy? please. please. please, i want your cum so bad” you babbled, tugging at his hair, your own orgasm approaching.

his green eyes stayed locked on yours, lidded and blank—his hips slamming into yours. “cumming—fuckkkkk” his load shot out in thick ropes, filling your pussy up to the brim. you let out a loud moan and nibbled at his ear lobe, cumming all over his cock.

———

‘PLAP. PLAP. PLAP. PLAP’

the juicy sound of your ass clapping against his bare pelvis echoed in the room as he drilled you from the back. being that his wife wasn’t fucking him he was so pent up that his balls were still aching for another release.

you had never been fucked like this either. the way he made your pussy his, left you in awe. you were falling in love with him and his dick. and although he was with someone else, you were his and he was yours.

hearing his phone vibrate and ring, he reached over to his sweatpants that was tossed on the bed; he pulled out his phone and answered it once he saw the name that popped up. “hey honey? how’s your parents?” he spoke, greeting his wife; your sister while continuing to fuck your cunt sloppy.

you must’ve clenched around him a little to tightly because he sent a hard slap to your ass, making you moan into the mattress. the thought of you being caught fucking someone else’s husband only made you hornier. you swiftly reached underneath you and began to fondle his balls, earning a deep breath from him.

“nothing, just watching a movie. huh…miss you too” he looked down at you when you turned you head at him, smirking while you continued to massage him. toji looked down at your ass and at your puckering hole, smiling wickedly when your eyes widened once his finger prodded at it. “wait baby—nghhh~”

his thick digit sat curled in your hole, moving it around each time he dug himself deeper inside you. “uh huh. yes i love you too, bye” he tossed his phone somewhere on the floor, one large hand on your hip, pounding you deep into your soft mattress. he groaned at the tight sensation that engulfed his cock, so fucking wet—just for him.

“breed this little cunt, yeah? make you swollen with my babies~”

“cumming. im cumming so hard for you daddy”

with two more hard pumps, his dick twitched inside of you and he emptied his balls out; draining him completely with your orgasm following. your body shook and spasmed, whispering his name as you rode out the intensity of your orgasm. pulling out of you once he was sure every last drop was inside, he pulled your body close to his and pulled up the covers.

“there’s a possibility i might get pregnant. what if she finds out?”

“i know. and i meant every word I said, im going to breed you until your swollen with my babies” He started, leaning on his hand to look at you with that sexy, yet dangerous smirk.

“and that won’t happen. this will be our little secret”

[crescenthistory]

did i hear you say you were writing another animagus!reader x regulus where they cuddle at hogwarts in each their cat forms? 🥺🥺

you know what they say, don't believe everything you hear... except for that, that's actually true

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, copious amounts of fluff, established relationship, bsf!remus, background wolfstar, reader and reg are kinda goody-two-shoes, platonic physical affection

Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with reg, wolfstar and james here & here

Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat

What a conundrum.

Remus should take this as an opportunity to be a good friend. You have spent almost two decades showing him exactly how to do that, playing the perfect part of the sister-he-never-had, loving and supporting him through life. For never turning your back on him, Remus is sure he owes you far more than what he can ever repay you, so he should try every single day. He should be a good friend.

But it was just too funny not to.

"At what point is it our duty to wake them up?" Sirius' voice whispered in his ear, shaking with mirth.

"I'm wondering the exact same thing." Remus dragged his words out to avoid making a decision. "How long do you think we can get away with?"

"I mean, they are already 15 minutes late to their Charms lesson, so we're dead men walking for not having said anything so far."

Remus is just able to tear his eyes away from you to glance sideways at Sirius, a too-fond smile already playing over his lips as he sees the exact mischievous look on his boyfriend's face that he expected. The look he fell in love with, not that Remus would be sappy enough to think about that right now. "So what you're saying is..."

"Leave it for a while longer?" Sirius grinned.

"Leave it for a while longer." Remus confirmed, whispering through a laugh, shifting his body further into Sirius' side as he lets his eyes fall back on you.

Well. On what he and Sirius knew to be you and Regulus, but what all other students in the library thought was just two cats sleeping in an armchair.

There was an elongated square of sunlight cast onto the middle of the seat by one of the beautifully decorated windows of the ancient castle, every cat's dream spot. The green velvet covering the seat of the mahogany chair was already riddled with fur from how long the two of you had been curled up around each other in it, white, grey and black hairs mixing together. Your forms might as well be mixing together too, fluid in a way that defied physics yet looked impossibly comfortable. Remus supposed you had to milk as much pleasure out of being an animagus as possible to make that whole mandrake leaf ordeal worth it. Though you could not answer even if he asked you right now, he was sure you at this very moment thought it was.

Remus' smile widened as he saw your chest rise dramatically as you breathed a sleepy huff, turning your head over slightly and burrowing it further into Regulus' plush neck. Your little cat bodies laid facing each other, arms around each other in a way he thought looked a little too much like a human hug.

It would be the absolute picture of serenity, two young things with no care in the world but each other – had it not been for the large clock ironically hanging right behind you, reminding you that you were not supposed to be here right now.

The four of you – five before James ran off the second he spotted red hair a few shelves back – had spent your two hours of shared free periods to read up together, for once actually doing a considerable amount of studying during it. Sirius was rubbing it in your faces, yours by consequence and Regulus' by design, that you still had one lesson left for the day when you abruptly stood up and demanded that you need a study break. When you then promptly dragged Regulus off into a corner, Sirius got the karma of a lifetime as he grew very concerned about what kind of break you would be engaging in. That was until the two cats lazily strolled back in and made themselves comfortable in the chair they now claimed as theirs.

Knowing you, Remus knew you hadn't intended on falling asleep, but maybe the fact that you did meant you really needed it. Yes, surely, you must have been exhausted and your body demanded a rest, so frankly he is quite an amazing friend for ensuring you listen to your health and your needs.

"Cats shouldn't be allowed to be that cute," Sirius all but grumbled as he looked at the two of them. "I should hate them on principle, but look at them Moony!"

"Quite literally no one is demanding that you hate cats on behalf of Padfoot, Siri."

"Padfoot is!" Sirius gave him a you can't argue with that logic look, but Remus knew he could.

"Ah, yes, my boyfriend the dog," he mused, cocking an eyebrow at Sirius who promptly reached out with his finger and pulled it back down.

"I could so give you a comeback to that, but I respect you too much not to say it in public," Sirius muttered and Remus couldn't fight his laughter.

Something moving in his periphery brought his attention back on you, seeing you shift even more into Regulus which caused him to begin stirring as well. Go back to sleep, go back to sleep, Remus whispered to you in his mind.

As always, you didn't listen to him, and ever so slowly Remus saw you peel one yellow eye open, blinking blearily at the room before turning your head back towards Regulus. The greyest of your four paws came up to gently pet at the black cat's neck, almost as if you were smoothing over the fur you had ruffled in your sleep. It made Remus' heart ache with love for you both, even as his stomach was slowly dropping.

A soft prrt! escaped Regulus before he instantly began purring and tightening his hold on you with his little cat paws, nosing his head against yours. A kind of softness Regulus rarely let himself fall into in public, though this was arguably a grey area.

It almost looked like you were about to be driven back into sleep by the vibrations moving through you from Regulus' chest. Remus noticed Sirius paying attention raptly as well, which was unfortunate.

Because when you shot up out of your seat with a small squeak, jumping as if startled as you looked towards the clock – now a good 30 minutes into your 45 minutes lesson – Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter. It earned him more than a few hushes from those around, but most importantly, it earned him your head snapping around to look at him with eyes that could rival a basilisk’s.

Considering Remus was already on a streak of making disloyal choices towards his loved ones, he didn't fight his instinct to stand up from his seat and back up when you ran and jumped onto the table right in front of Sirius' face with a hiss. You slapped at him with a clawless paw to which Sirius whispered something along the lines of "hey, knock it off, be cool" while trying to hold you at arm's length. You scowled at him as aggressively as any cat could, raising your back slightly before you arguably tut-ed at him and jumped back down.

Remus fought for his life to not laugh.

You turned around and ran over to Regulus who was still lazily stretching and gaining his bearings, not an ounce of care shown towards the near-assault of his brother. Nudging him with your head towards the end of the chair, he got the point and jumped down, already falling into his usual graceful mannerisms.

Together you scurried off back into your corner.

When you came back a mere minute later Remus swore there was no difference in your facial expression. Remus carefully walked around the table – where Sirius was still sitting with a petulant pout – hands up in surrender.

You crossed your arms, leaning your weight onto your right hip as you glared at your oldest friend, clearly expecting him to speak first. Behind you Regulus was strolling over, looking like he was trying really hard to be miffed but falling just short.

“How dare you,” you said – and it was a statement, not a question.

“In my defence,” Remus started, hands still up but so were the corners of his lips. “You two looked adorable.”

“That will surely hold up real well with the professor,” you scoffed.

“We didn’t make you fall asleep, princess,” Sirius grumbled to which you turned to him with a bitch please look Remus is fairly certain you picked up from Sirius.

“Apologies for expecting my friends to have my back. How stupid of me.”

“Very stupid indeed,” Sirius murmured as he took a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he found it to be cold. He nearly spilled some when Regulus gave him a light slap up the back of the head.

Remus figured it was time to pull out the big guns.

He manoeuvred his held up hands to be stretched out towards you instead with a rueful smile as he inched closer and closer. You had a moody expression still, eyeing him with suspicion, but you didn’t move out of the way. He dared make a small cooing sound as he brought you into a hug, coddling you like one would a child after they hurt themselves to keep them from crying.

“‘M super super sorry, lovie,” Remus half-muttered half-laughed into your hair as he rocked you a little bit. Your arms were still crossed against his chest, but you were leaning into him. 

“Don’t believe you, Loopy.” 

Regulus snorted at that and Remus looked up at him over his shoulder and the boys shared a look of humour and shared love for you that warmed his stomach. Though when Sirius nipped at Regulus’ sleeve to get his attention, the faux-miffed expression was plastered right back on the younger boy’s face.

Siblings, Remus thought and chuckled a bit into your hair.

“You laughing at me?” you questioned incredulously. 

“No, I’m laughing at our boys.” His response was quick to rid himself of any further accusations.

You instantly nodded against his shoulder. “Understandable.”

“Hey! Don’t bring me into this, amour.” Regulus' chiding tone was met with you uncrossing your arms at last, reaching a hand out behind you blindly, which he immediately took and squeezed with his own.

You let your other arm curl around Remus’ back. Forgiveness at last.

He pulled back to look down at you with a goofy grin, and was pleased to see you could no longer contain yours either. “You were really cute. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

You gave him a look. “Right, no laughing at our expense whatsoever.”

“Never.”

You gave him a light shove while you snorted, pushing him away from you. “This is what I get for my sacrifice for you?” you said as you shook your head at him not much unlike McGonagall would during detention.

“I would argue you got a pretty sweet deal with that sacrifice, doll, seeing as you can curl up with your equally sacrificial boyfriend and sleep in the library whenever.” Sirius nodded solemnly, while jutting his chin towards Regulus. “This one would never let that happen in any other form.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could’ve convinced him,” you replied, looking at Regulus with an almost salacious smile. As if to prove your point – or just to prove Sirius wrong – he came up to stand closer behind you, arms going around your waist. You leaned your weight back against him with a happy sigh.

“Disgusting,” was all Sirius offered.

You raised an eyebrow at him before turning your head sideways to give Regulus a short, sweet kiss.

“Disgusting,” he groaned once more, pressing the backs of his palms into his eyes.

“Karma,” you and Remus sing-songed at him at the exact same time in the exact same tone. 

Your eyes met in surprise before you both burst out laughing, any pretend fight seeping out of you as you both beamed at each other.

Siblings, Remus found himself thinking once more.

“Well, now that we don’t have a lesson to get to anymore, I suggest we get out of here,” Regulus sighed, squeezing your hips as if to underline his point.

“Where we heading?” Sirius asked as he swung his legs out to get up.

“I don’t know where you’re going,” you started. “But Remus will go hunt down a certain Head Boy and get him to make up some excuse to Professor Flitwick for why Regulus and I did not attend class so that our absence is removed from the records.” You put on your sweetest smile as you turned towards Remus at the last part.

“Regulus, what have you done with her?!” Sirius stage-whispered his accusation at Regulus who only responded with a certain impolite gesture.

“And why would James do that?” Remus drawls, certain that his entertainment was written all over his face.

“Oh, I’m sure he owes you for something, you figure it out.” You spoke as you tried to put your bag over your shoulder to leave, but Remus and Regulus both reached for it at the same time. They gave each other a look, trying to decide who will take the literal burden, before they both turned to Sirius and dropped the bag in his lap. He rolled his eyes at the both of them, but pulled the strap over his free shoulder nonetheless. 

“You are quite the minx, aren’t you?” Remus asked, going for chiding and landing somewhere along the lines of compliance.

“Learned from the best, Rem!” you cheered brightly, pressing quick smacking kisses on both his and Sirius’ cheek.

Before they could muster up a response or a reaction, you had already hauled Regulus down the halls of the library towards the exit with half-heartedly hushed giggles. The raven-haired boy looked over his shoulder right before you turned the corner with a barely-contained smile, inhibitions straw thin in your presence.

Remus understood him well.

He turned to Sirius with a pleased smile to find him already admiring his reactions from where he stood beside him.

“I get why they’re cats,” Remus mused as he interlaced their fingers, following the general direction you ran off to, ready to hunt down James and possibly claw up some furniture. 

“Because they’re adorable but also massive menaces?”

Remus breathed out contently. “Yeah.”

[yuvany]

#ENHYPEN TROPES⋆

❝Enhypen, and tropes I can imagine them in❞ ot7 . . . fmr . . head cannon + imagines . w.c : ~150/character ꩜ ...not proofread!!...

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 – brother's bestfriend

You never tried to associate yourself with your brother's friends because they seemed like people you wouldn't like to associate yourself with. One day though when you were home alone, the door burst open and the laughter of multiple people disturbed the calmness prior. You groaned to yourself, identifying the voices to be them. You saw them very rarely since they were in a different class, and slightly older than you. With a groan, you zoned out their loud voices. While reading your book, the door to your room opened softly, and you snapped your head in that direction. In your sight stood a tall man with bambi looking eyes scanning you as well. "What are you doing here?" You questioned with an arched eyebrow. "Sorry, was trying to find the bathroom." He replied, and stood there awkwardly. "Just go down two door to the right." You returned to your reading. "You're Y/n, right?" He asked. "I thought you were searching for the bathroom?" You said, not sparing him another glance. "Right." He then shut the door, but you felt slightly content with his presence in some way. Lucky to say that he visited his friend more often, and you got to see him more often too.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 – strangers to lovers

Jay would walk into the café down the street every morning to get his usual order; a cup of coffee and a bagel. Every staff knew him, and he knew them. So when he sees a new employee by the cash register, he tries to get to know you too. You greeted him like you did with every other customer, and he ordered like he always did. Jay walked over to a corner and observed the pretty scenery outside. He looked back up when you arrived. "Thanks ... ?" and that's when you realised he wanted to know your name, and that's when you noticed you lacked a name tag. In later weeks, the tense dome around you broke down, and you guys chatted while you made his usual order, realising he was a regular. "Any plans for after your shift?" He asked. "I'm just gonna lay on the sofa and watch a movie honestly." you chuckled. When you went to collect his plate and cup after he waved farewell, you saw a small slip of paper hidden under the plate. "Call me, please. xxxx - Jay"

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 – golden retriever x black cat

He saw you sitting alone during lunch time, and he invited himself to take a seat in the empty spot next to you. You sneered at him, examining him up and down with an icy glare. In contrast, he had a soft smile. "What are you doing here?" You asked with a cold tone. "You looked lonely." Jake replied, wearing a confused look. "Well, I'm not, so you can go." You dismissed him and returned to the lunch in front of you. "What class are you in?" He asked, not giving up so easily. You replied simply, and bit into your home made lunch while he looked at you from the side, and ultimately returning to his own lunch. You thought he would stop bothering you after, but you were wrong. Jake would follow you around the corridors, and later find out that the two of you had a couple of lessons together. As time went on, you seemed to not mind his company, finding it more pleasant than being alone, realising that you maybe needed someone to fill that lonely side you always showed.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 – friends to lovers

You guys would be in the same friend group, but not the closest, you had your friends, and he had his. When he fist realised he had romantic feelings towards you, he started getting distant, even though something inside fo him yearned to be close to you. That, of course was noticed by both you and the other people around you. The friendgroup had decided to go to the arcade, and while they were there he did his best to not look your way as much as possible, but that was easier said than done. He saw how much you eyed that single teddy bear in a claw machine, and he made it his mission to get it for you. You decided to approach him to ask why he was becoming so distant, but started it off with a normal conversation, "Are you really going to use this machine?" You asked him, your eyes scanning the moles on his face. "Yeah." He scoffed playfully, and you stood beside him, watching him play multiple rounds until he finally caught the teddy. "Take it." He shoved the plush into your arms before walking away with a flushed face as you stood there dumbfoudned, totally forgetting the reason you walked over to him to begin with.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 – admirer from afar

Sunoo is shy, and he only ever watched and admired you from afar. The only times he ever saw you up close was when the two of you walked by each other in the hallways or when going to your assigned seats in the classroom. Even then, you'd smile at him, and he'd smile back, just that he would be a mess on the inside. He never ever spoke to you since he thought of you as someone too unapproachable. One day, when he was talking about you to his friends during break time, "She's just so pretty, and smart, and perfect!" His friends had gotten tired of his hopelessness and suggested that he should send you a love letter on valentine's day. "What, why?" He panicked, the embarrassment showing on his rosy cheeks. In the end, they convinced him to do it. February neared closer, and Sunoo arrived extra early just to slip his note into your locker. He looked at both sides, and then behind him and behind the lockers just to make sure he was alone. When the coast was clear, he carefully pushed the paper under the metal, but heard footsteps around the corner. "What are you doing?" It was you.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 – class president x new student

"hello everyone! I'm y/n, and I'm new. I hope we all ca get along well!" You greeted, standing in front of the class, anxiously playing with the hem of your skirt. "Alright, since she's new, Jungwon, you will show her around the school." The teacher said, and sat down in her chair, nodding towards a boy with big clear eyes who nodded his head back in confirmation. After class, it was a free period, and you quickly walked out of the classroom to explore on your own, since you guessed Jungwon wouldn't show you around at all. "Hey, wait up!" You heard a male voice calling for you, causing you to pause in your tracks and turn around. To your surprise it was that boy from earlier. You waited for him to catch up to you, and when he did, he asked, "Ready for a tour, y/n?" "Sure, why not.", you shrugged, and the two of you walked from one hallway to another. After what seemed to be the end, you decided to ask the question you were wondering about the whole time. "Why did you show me around?" It sounded stupid, that's what you realised right after uttering it. "I'm the class president, so it's kind of my job." He explained, and you sighed, now wondering if he was kind because he had to. "Don't worry though, you seem nice, and I'd like to get to know you more."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 – enemies to lovers

At first, Riki thought it was all a joke when he saw you sneer at him, and so he returned the gesture, but to you, you just never liked him without knowing why. It continued on like that for most of the year. You two would always bicker and compete during most classes, and he would throw paper planes at the back of your head just because he found your reaction funny, so he continued. You would complain about him to your friends daily, while he would tell his friend how funny you were. "Ugh, I hate him! Why is he so stupid?!" You groaned. "Y/n is so funny! Did you guys see how angry she got during English?" Riki laughed, clearly enjoying the memory. The first half of the year passed, and you were finally on break. The idea was to rest, but an obstacle was made. You and your family had gotten in a pretty rough fight, and you decided to leave the house to get fresh air, but on your walk, Riki spotted you. He immediately saw your tears and held back the rude comments he was about to say. "Hey, are you crying? What happened?" His voice was sincere, and you broke down crying again, telling him everything. "Hmm. Let's go to that café to cheer you up." Riki comforted, rubbing your back. At school, he was kinder as well, as well as hanging out with you more.

Reblogs are much appreciated!!

Layout credits to @flwrstqr

[jade-jini]

you remember perv!sakura with yn dancing to perfect night? i imagine since they always record their practices to monitor, she keeps replaying it over and over and gets caught by reader hehehe

Gonna be straightforward about this. Perv!kkura touches herself while watching those recordings. They get recorded with her phone so she’s the one who keeps them most of the time. She even has a playlist of your fancams and even some edits of you. She jerks off to that, to pictures of you two together, she even jerks off to voice messages you’ve sent.

Perv!kkura even sprays some of your perfume in her room and/or “borrows” some of your clothes to smell them when she’s having her private time, laying down on her bed and closing her eyes for a few seconds to picture what she has in mind with you as one hand holds the piece close to her nose and the other is going up and down her shaft.

Sakura thought she was gonna be home alone for a little extra time, but she didn’t know you were getting off early from your solo photoshoot. She was in her room during a hot summer day, only an oversized t-shirt that was up to half her torso and a pair of boxers on (glasses on too like on that video where she looks sleepy af). As she laid down on her bed chilling, she received a message from you. It was a video in front of a mirror with one of the outfits from the photoshoot; shorts with a top and an oversized open flannel shirt for a pool day concept. You. looked so. Hot. And what made it better was that you were completely wet, as if you just got out of the pool. Your hair was still dripping wet and the shirt was sticking to your body. You looked so fine that Sakura moaned just by looking at you, already having to fix her dick inside her boxers.

“My God…” she groaned, the contact of her hand as she looked at you feeling too good to stop. “Why would she send me this? Is she trying to tease me or something?”

Since your guys’ encounter in the practice room, you and Sakura haven’t had any private time at all. With a few group schedules and multiple solo ones with no days off together, the last time Sakura actually saw you in person was during your last dance practice. You and your pretty mouth were in her mind 24/7, making her hard over and over again. Sakura missed you so much. You guys are close friends so of course you text each other all day, but it wasn’t helping her that you’d constantly send her pics or videos of everything you were doing during your schedules. Those outfits that were specifically designed to highlight your perfect figure would make her fantasize about tearing them off you. Whenever you’d send a video showing her your outfits, you tended to softly talk about your day as one of your hands was traveling over your body, feeling yourself up unconsciously. But Sakura noticed it very well, ‘cause you look just so sexy doing this. She’d catch herself almost drooling at the view of you and the sound of your soft, sometimes raspy voice.

“I can’t wait to get home, unnie. I’m so wet I’m shaking” you said at the end of the video you sent her, followed by a little giggle. A groan came out of Sakura’s mouth, while a little wet spot was starting to appear on her black underwear.

“Fuck… I wanna feel how wet you are, baby…” she’d say while replaying the video, continuing to squeeze her dick over her boxers, already able to feel how warm and hard her member was “I miss you… fuck, where’s that video, I need to watch her moving like that again”

Sakura quickly went to the album she had of you, finding the last dance practice you guys had in which you guys practiced Smart. She particularly loved the chorus and how your hips moved. She’d imagine you moving like that on top of her, riding her cock and moving in circles, kissing her neck.

“Ugh shit…” she moaned, letting her hand slide inside her boxers, slowly rubbing her dick.

Then there was also this part of the dance, a part that you shared with Yunjin. The second verse; in which you both would get on your knees on the floor, hands touching it too.

“Lucky ass floor…” she said, making herself giggle (loser I love her). Sakura replayed that video and a couple others she had in that album, while her hand was busy inside her boxers. Her lip between her teeth, as she left soft sounds escape her. She also put her headphones on, wanting to enjoy the whole experience of your voice seducing her ears.

Bad idea, though.

If only she didn’t have her headphones on she would’ve heard when you got home.

“I’m homeee! Unnie, where are you?” You said out loud from the entrance of the dorm, hoping your friend heard you announcing yourself. But there was no response. You knew the rest of the girls wouldn’t come back soon, since they were either busy or spending time with friends; you knew Chaewon took Kazuha and was hanging out with Yena and Yujin, Eunchae was at Kyujin’s (you spent the day getting cute pictures from Haewon of the two kids doing little activities together), and Yunjin? Well, the only thing you knew was that she was gonna spend the day with one of the Aespa girlies.

“Probably involved in some gay activity with Minjeong…” you murmured and laughed to yourself as you made your way upstairs to find the older girl. “Unnieee, I’m home. Get out of your room c’mon, Fortnite can wait. Lets get ice cream and watch a movie pleaseee”

“Hmmm… fuck, like that…” you heard the familiar voice coming from behind a door. You couldn’t see her, but Sakura was getting so into the filthy scenarios she was creating in her head, so into it actually, that she decided to help herself with a toy she had bought some time ago; a fleshlight. The fresh sensation of the material was giving her a delightful feeling against the heat of the day and her own body temperature, making her mind fly.

“I miss you, y/n… please…” you heard her say from inside her room, a smile spreading on your face. You missed your Sakura unnie too, wanting to relax with her after an exhausting hot day.

“Awww unnie you miss me so much you’re talking to the voices in your head about it-“ you said, suddenly entering the bedroom unannounced while laughing at how cute Sakura sounded. This made the older girl squeak, dropping her phone and covering herself with her sheets as she secretly removed the toy off her dick. Your smile also dropped at the clearly agitated woman laying on her bed.

“Shit! y/n- what are y-you doing home so early?!” She stuttered, nervous that you caught her in such embarrassing situation.

“Unnie… what were you doing?” You asked, a mischievous grin on your face as you already suspected the answer to your question. I mean, kkura’s face was red, some sweat was already on her forehead, and her breathing was irregular. Plus the way her hands were hiding under the sheets, and sheets on during such a hot day?! She looked exactly like the last time you two were alone. And just as hot… (literally)

“I was just.. Um.. you know! Just checking the videos of our late dance practice. Yeah that! Mhm!” She tried explaining, doing her best to sound as casual as possible. And failing, of course. As you started walking towards her, she continued “I think there’s some stuff we can improve, like for example the synchronization and the- wait don’t!” but she got interrupted by you getting the covers off her.

“Mind explaining this?” You asked her, with an eyebrow raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“It’s.. not what it looks like?”

“Your dick is literally in your hand.”

“Ok but it’s not what it looks like Tf? Don’t judge.” She said, raising an eyebrow and trying to sound offended like you didn’t just catch her jerking off.

“Oh not judging, but you literally have a sex toy right next to your pervy ass.” You pointed at her fleshlight and then at her, doing your best not to laugh at the situation.

“It’s.. it’s for moral support!” Sakura argued back.

“You’re so stupid” you laughed at her silliness as you made your way to her bed “If you needed some attention, you could’ve told me, don’t you think?” You told her in a more gentle tone now, slowly caressing her thigh. Sakura whimpered at the contact of your cold hand.

“I didn’t know how long you were going to take in today’s schedule…” she said, a cute pout adorning her pretty lips “plus I wouldn’t have known how to ask you”

“I’m sure you would’ve figured out a way of letting me know of this” you pointed at her hard and pulsating member, who was begging for attention at this point “plus don’t you think I could help you better than that little toy you got?”

“I know you would…”

“Then?” You whispered, getting closer to her ear “ask for it.”

“Please, y/n” she moaned when your finger slightly touched her cock “please, I missed you. Please help me”

“There we go” you said with a smile “wasn’t so hard, right?” Your hand grabbed her member firmly but not too tight that it could hurt. “Talking about hard…”

“Agh.. y/n..” Sakura left out some loud, high-pitched moans, sounding as cute and hot as ever. You looked at her and let out a soft giggle, enjoying the reactions she had to your touch.

“I know, baby. I know” you cooed her, using now both hands to take care of the older girl. Her cock felt so hot against your palms, rock hard and her tip was red, some precum already emanating from it. “If you’d told me you were this needy, I would’ve hurry up and finished earlier you know”

“I-I’m sorry… didn’t wanna bother you, aghh~” she said in between moans. You looked at her, and the way she looked just turned you on even more if that was possible; Sakura had her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open as her hands gripped on the bedsheets tightly. Soft “like that~ just like that~” captivating your heard and motivating you to do everything she’d ask you for. “Faster please…” she begged, almost sobbing at her need for relief. You increased your speed, as fast as you could until you heard her sobbing again.

“Like that?” You asked her, knowing she wouldn’t even be able to pronounce a word. Sakura nodded repeatedly “yeah? You like that?”. The answer to your question came rather sooner, as Sakura let out a serious of loud groans, moans, and sobs while she came all over your hands, some of it falling on her own stomach. Her hips moved erratically, helping her finish reaching as much of climax as she could. Sakura came hard, and a lot. You could tell she really needed that. She really needed you.

“You really came that fast?” You asked her, amazed. The older girl’s face was also surprised, her body didn’t even warn her that she was that close.

“I.. i think so” but there was no doubt lmao. You moved a bit to look at her and saw Sakura’s flustered face turn even more red. You giggled at this, finding her cute even during this situation “aw man don’t laugh at me this is embarrassing…” she said awkwardly laughing as she tried to catch her breath.

“No it’s not!” You argued, still laughing though “I could tell you were all needy and desperate anyways” you teased her, and she just shrugged with a pout as she cleaned her tummy with some tissues. She seemed satisfied but for you it was not enough yet. It finished- she finished* too soon, you wanted more. “Hmm.. how about I help you clean yourself up hm?” You flirted, as you started licking the cum off her dick. Sakura quickly left out a whimper.

“Ahh! y/n, please.. I just came, I’m sensitive…” she begged, touching your hair.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m doing this” you said, before putting as much of her dick in your mouth as you could. The loud moan that escaped Sakura made you moan on her cock. She sounded so good, of course you needed to overstimulate her. The vibrations of your throat when you moan as you sucked were driving her crazy, rolling her eyes and letting one hand rest on your head gripping on your hair tight, while the other was scratching her abs and your arm from time to time. Moans and whimpers coming out of Kkura, only the wet sounds you were making accompanying them.

“It tastes even better after you cum. I love the taste of it, unnie” you said, your tongue against her tip savoring what was left of her cum there. You made circles on the tip, making Sakura lose her mind.

“Holy shit… so good..” she whispered against her knuckles, which she was biting to try and not lose her mind. Her voice was rather raspy now, but still high, and her mind so gone she didn’t know how she was able to pronounce those words. Suddenly, the tease on her tip was unbearable, so she grabbed your hair with both hands and pulled, catching her attention “put it in your mouth, baby. The whole thing. Let me fuck your throat.” She asked, her eyes were watery and you could hear the tone being a perfect mix between ordering and begging. So you did as she said so, again putting every inch that you could fit in your mouth, looking up so she could see those puppy eyes that drive her crazy. As she looked into them, a deep groan emanated from her throat, with a frown and a lip in between her teeth.

Sakura caressed your hair softly before she gripped on it and started to move her hips not too fast so you could get used to her size first. Your throat felt so good. You were right, no toy could ever compare to the real thing; to you. She slowly started increasing her speed, getting more and more aroused with the noises your throat was making as she got in and out of you, alongside with your moans. You were grabbing her thighs, letting her do as she pleased with your mouth, her taste driving you insane. You loved it, maybe a little too much. “God.. it’s so good, your mouth feels so good…” she said, moans coming out of her every time her tip hit deep down your throat. “You take it so well… makes me wanna go faster. Can I? ” she asked, and you almost needed it as much as she did. Your lips closed around her dick, her moves stopping from a moment before your head went up and down as an answer. God. You looked so sexy, so dirty just for her in that moment “good girl, you’re such a good girl…” she said, as she picked up a faster pace, grabbing your hair on a ponytail in her hands as she fucked your mouth. Deep. Rough.

You were now on your knees on the floor, looking up to Sakura as her knees became a trembling mess. However, she managed to stay very well on her feet, motivated by the heavenly sensation you were causing her. She’d give you a few seconds to breathe before putting her whole length back into your mouth, this time lasting longer than before.

“Hmm wanna come~ really wanna come in your pretty mouth, baby” she moaned, her fast thrust telling you she desperately needed to reach her climax yet again. So you decided to add your hands again, masturbating her shaft and doing circles on her tip whenever you could, knowing just how much she liked that. Sakura slowed down a bit so you could do this more comfortably, giving you more control now “Oh fuuuck… just like that, please…” she said in a long moan, letting you take care of her.

“Let’s make you come real good again, ok?” You said in between kisses you were leaving all over her member before you went back to sucking and licking her tip as good as possible. Sakura’s knees finally gave in and made her fall sat on the edge of the bed. You were doing such a good job, drool going down her length. The room was being filled with such dirty noises, noises that just turned both of you on more and more.

“Y/n…” the older girl started “gonna come.. I’m gonna come…” she warned you, just in time for her orgasm to hit her, almost harder than the first one. Her cum going down your throat, making you moan as you enjoyed swallowing every drop of it. You could see tears going down Sakura’s face ‘cause of how good and overwhelming everything felt. “Good.. so good.. so good…” she’d say in between sobs, and you were enjoying making her cry a bit too much maybe.

Once you finished really cleaning her cum off her member, you got on your feet to look at her. Sakura was lying down on her bed, trying her best to catch her breath. “You ok there?” You asked, she was so tired she could barely open her eyes.

“… I feel lightheaded.” She said before slowly passing out. You just giggled and rolled your eyes, making sure to put her boxers back on and fix her legs properly on the bed “thank you, y/n. You’re always so good to me” she told you in between a big yawn, a soft voice barely able to get out. You smiled, looking at the sleepy girl dearly.

“Goodnight, unnie.”

[wowserb0wser]

“Tornado Wrangler”

A/N: Watched Twisters last night and I was literally drooling in the theaters for David Corenswet and Glen Powell. But Glen my boy has many fanfics written for him, not so much for David!! I am here to change that!! Was like crazy horny when writing this, I should be ashamed but I am not.

Paring: Scott x AFAB reader

Description: you work as a lab tech for one of the companies suppling the "storm par" with money and having to check that everything was going to plan. You expected the tornados to be the most interesting part while being in Oklahoma, but a certain science engineer catches your attention and you catch his. Kate’s not in this one :(

WC: 7.5k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Warning(s): MDI!!! Scott being a meanie-weenie at first but he warms up quickly. Nervous!F!Reader, Smut ahead!!! 18+ Size kink, Dry humping, Dirty talking, Finger sucking, Oral (f receiving), Reasonable age-gap (Scott is 26, reader is 23), Pet names = baby, big girl, Kinda degrading/Not really??, Protected penetration (PinV), Slight!DomScott! + Slight!Sub!Reader!, Scott actually never shuts up during sex. MY BOY IS VOCAL🗣️

You've known Javi ever since he left the military. He was looking for grants to fund his "science project". You just happen to be working for one of the businesses that agreed to give him and his whole team equipment, his pitch was impressive and your boss sent you out to know exactly how their money was spent for this experiment. At last that's what they told you, now being in the field, it seemed more like a punishment for you. Not that you didn't like tornados - you did… but only from behind a computer screen. You were a scientist that primarily worked inside of an AC’ed lab, not the blistering heat of Oklahoma and especially with chasing tornados in person and close.

Now here. Faced with an awkward car ride with Javi to meet the whole team. It wasn't completely awkward with Javi, it's just that you haven't spent such a long time alone with him before this moment. At least he tried to make small talk.

It wasn't much further to the meet up spot. And it was clear that every other person who wanted to chase down a tornado was also meeting at the same spot as us.

Javi parks the truck next to an exact same model and makes it as the one you're in, the only difference was the tag line that separates them from each other, the other was “Scarecrow” while yours was “Lion”. That's when you looked around and saw them. They wore matching white button downs with the small label that was wrapped on your truck and the matching one next to you. It read "Storm Par". You've heard of the company, but it wasn't the company you work for, it must be another company that was lending them money.

One particular team mate stuck out from one another. He was tall - tall as in towering over everyone else in the group.

Javi was quick to get out of the car and open your door, lending you his hand to help you get out and stepping straight into loose dirt that went everywhere. You were truly out of your lab.

You follow closely behind Javi while passing through the crowd, people shouting over each other and country music blasting in every direction. You saw some people gather into a set-up booth with merch that had a specific saying, but couldn't tell what it said from your distance. All you could see was a man standing on his truck with sunglasses and a cowboy hat that covered a good portion of his face. You can hear him riling up the crowd. As you get closer to Javi’s group, you can tell who's in charge already. That person being the same tall man that caught your eyes first.

The closer to the man you pick upon what he looks like, he wears almost blacked out sunglasses and a faded blue baseball cap. His dark hair slightly peeking out the corners of his hat, his eyebrows quite hidden behind said sunglasses and a straight smile that barely showed any interest. It was such a night and day comparison to Javi and everyone else on the team as they put on their bright smiles for you as a warm welcome.

Both of you reach the "Storm Par" group of men. Javi welcomes you to the group all-whistle introducing everyone's names and where they went to school. Stopping before the tall man. Giggling to himself before introducing the man, "And this is Scott. He went to MIT-" Javi giggles again at how Scott's reaction hasn't changed. "No, no, no - He makes up for it. With his beautiful, amazing, personality!” Javi praises and justifies. The stoic deadpan faced man. Javi’s hand resting on Scott's shoulder. A quick smile flashes you clean bright teeth. He looks sharp. The clean white freshly ironed button down compared with the other "hillbilly's with a camera" more dirty and not freshly pressed shirts. Javi pats quickly on Scott's shoulder and puts his hands back down. His earbuds still in his ears, you couldn't tell if he even heard your name. Dark aviator sunglasses hid his expression. His jaw clutches down on a piece of gum.

There was an aura about Scott. Nonchalant, unfazed, calm facial expression that draws you in. His tall figure, being around 6’4ft. His arms pulled together crossed against his chest. His forearms stretching the fabric on the short sleeved buttoned shirt, his skin glistening in the hot Oklahoma sun, he was just lightly tanned. You saw how those arms were built and your eyes started trailing down his torso….

Quickly you blinked away from that thought and continued to focus on Javi's words rather than standing and practically drooling over this guy's physique that you literally just met. But you could feel Scott's eyes lingering on your face for a second longer.

After Javi finishes his mini speech he pulls you to the side. "Look, if you're too nervous about going out there then you can just wait at the motel while me and the crew go out." He offers with a sympathetic smile. You were about to accept his offer but remembered why you were out here in the first place. “No, I think I'm ready to see what our money supports." You retort back. Once hearing you, he laughs and slightly shakes his head, “You're never ready for your first tornado.".

You looked towards the group again and saw Scott and some others looking at yours and Javi’s direction. You knew what they thought. That you weren't up for a challenge, time to prove them wrong.

“So when do we head out?" You say with a smile.

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

You sit in the "Tin-man" truck along with Javi and Scott, they both sit in the front seat while you were directed to specifically sit in the back. You were quick to put your seatbelt on and Javi slammed on the pedal to start on their chase. A few minutes pass. The music is barely audible and occasionally Scott said to turn either right or left. While on a straight dirt road you muster the courage to start asking questions, “So what exactly does Tornado chasing intel?". Javi once again laughs, simultaneously thinking about how to explain it as simply as possible. Scott doesn't seem to mind or acknowledge your question. Javi responses, “Okay. We start with looking at our data, thank you Scott, and see where a tornado could possibly occur." He taps on the steering wheel to focus. “What do you mean "possibly occur''?”. You expect Javi to continue answering your questions, but Scott's voice pierce the air.

“It all depends on if the seal breaks by the anvil. Warm air goes up and cold air goes down, this continues to build and some other factors that's hard to explain quickly. " He looks back at you, his blue eyes stare down at you. This was the first time seeing his face without those sunglasses and you surely weren’t disappointed. It causes your cheeks to flood with warming. Hopefully the two men didn't notice. Scott turns his head back to the laptop seated on his lap.

The laptop starts beeping, the screen showing bright colors swirling. Both men start smiling at the screen and start hyping each other up for this tornado.

This was so different from being in the lab.

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

You shook in the truck's backseat, hearing Javi and Scott yelling over the roaring tornado that was getting closer by the seconds they were outside. The faint snaps of the radar planting into the ground and heavy footsteps rushing back to the truck. Scott reaches for the middle console and holds a walkie-talkie to his mouth, Javi is already putting the car in drive to get away from the approaching tornado. “Our’s is set. We're coming back! Over!” He quickly speaks into the radio and refocuses back on his laptop to see the already updating data scans.

Scott fists his hand together and cheers a little for the successful radar. Javi joins in and whoops the same. Scott's chest puffs in and out, trying to calm down the adrenaline rush that just came washing over his whole body. A big toothy smile shines, he quickly glanced behind to see if you’re sharing the same amount of enjoyment in what they accomplished. Anticipating the same range of emotions as them. This was your first tornado chase and it being so successful out the door was a great performance.

He was shocked to see you clenching the doors handle for dear life with your eyes shut. At first he thought you were hurt but then realized that you were scared of the tornado that is several hundred feet behind you, still chasing you, but from a safer distance. He snaps his fingers and quickly thinks, “Hey!” Snap. “Look at me. You are safe, we are getting out of here.” His quick words make you open your eyes and lock into his, his calm exterior puts an odd sense of ease in your nerves though you know you weren’t completely away from a dangerous tornado. Again, those dark blue eyes barrow into yours. “Okay.” You softly respond back and slowly pull your fingers away from the door handle.

Steading your hands with some deep breaths. Javi also comforts you, “That was just an E-F 3, that was easy peasey! Nothing to be scared of! We’ll be with the rest of the gang in a few minutes.” He smiles in the reflection in the rear view mirror, still focusing on the road ahead of him. You just nod along and breathe deep. Scott watches you for a little long to make sure you don’t work yourself into a panic attack, partially because he really doesn’t want to deal with a stranger going crazy but because a small part of him doesn’t want you to have a panic attack.

Thankfully it wasn’t long till you all were back to a shitty Motel which was the meeting spot to review their new information being downloaded and importing it into a 3D model. Which happens to take a couple of hours to do so, but this Motel happens to be next to a little Ma and Pa diner. Many other tornado chasers ended up at the same Motel, there was already a crowd forming and music playing when you stepped out of the truck to get fresh air.

Without another word, your feet start moving to the Diner. Food and some soda should help.

You were a couple of feet away from the entrance when you heard running footsteps, looking back to see if you needed to move out the way for said runner but was pleasantly surprised to see Scott rushing over to you. Once you make eye contact, or suppose eye contact because he was wearing his sunglasses once again, he started to slow down and his long legs didn’t take long until he was close enough to speak.

His face is still straight and unbothered, he pulled his earbuds off to the side, “Was wondering where you were off so quick.” Was there some cheeky tone laced in his question? You look back forwards the Diner and smile back at Scott. “Maybe a greasy burger will put my mind to ease.” You quip back and turn your heels back in the same direction as before, “Want to join?” You ask as you're already walking to the entrance.

After ordering entries and drinks you both sit at a booth that sits next to a picture window that looks out to the mostly plain fields and hanging decorative lights connected to posts around the Diner. This town in Oklahoma was quaint, without the tornados you would consider this to be perfect.

Turning your head to face Scott, he took off his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. His eyes drift towards yours once he notices that you were looking at him. “I don’t think you're made for this.” He shamelessly speaks, unsure why his words hurt you more than when Javi accused you of the same. But hearing it after the chase stung more. A small frown on your lips. Scott was quick to speak up again before you could respond. “Not saying this to be mean or rude, but what we do is dangerous and I can’t have someone freaking out all the while. I can’t focus on our job when you’re having a panic attack in the back seats.” He explains with some condescending attitude but mainly because he was still frustrated with caring slightly about you.

He couldn’t deny it. He found you rather attractive, your demeanor being a little shy but he could tell you’d warm up quickly. First introduction catches him so off-guard, your smile so bright and your voice as you say hello to everyone. ‘Such a pretty girl’ he thought as his eyes looked you up and down quickly. And he swears he thought he caught you checking him out as well. But seeing you so scared made him nervous to be in the truck, he wanted to grab you and comfort your worries away.

“Wow. No sugar coating for me huh?” You softly giggle an exhale. You knew he was right, it sucked to hear it though. “Cut right through the bullshit.” You further say and stretch your arms out to find some sort of relief. He laughs at you cursing, it was the first time hearing you curse and to be frank, it wasn’t threatening whatsoever. He found it amusing, you were cute. Especially because from his outburst your cheeks are flushed with pink embarrassment. “I don’t mess around.” He tries to play, a sly smile on his lips but you groan and put your hand on your head without seeing it. “I thought I could handle it.” You mutter into your hands, your voice sounding disappointed. Now Scott felt bad for speaking.

Quick on his feet, “Remember what Javi said; “You’re never ready for your first tornado.” You just needed to experience it.” You drop your hands down to the table and look back at the man across from you. His jaw goes up and down while chewing the same piece of gum. Staring at his lips for a few seconds before your eyes trail back to his eyes but there was a certain glimmer when your eyes connected, a smile curving his lips.

Gosh. You had no clue why every single thing he did made you have a visceral reaction. Simultaneously he knew what he was doing.

Food is placed down on your table and your mouth watered at the sight. Before you could reach out and take a bite of your anticipated meal, Scott’s voice speaks up again. “Be honest, why did you agree to come out here?” He manages to say before grabbing his hamburger and taking a greedy first bite. You shove a couple of fries in your mouth before answering. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Tornados, I find them so interesting and a strange natural occurrence. But from a safe distance, in my lab where I can do research rather than going out in the field.” Your stomach growls at you for not taking a bite of your burger that sits so patiently on the plate. “I totally agree on what you guys are doing, I want to help people too! I just don’t think I was built for wrangling tornados like you. Plus my boss dragged me out here.” You chuckle while biting now at your food. Already feeling better or maybe it was the company of Scott that put you to ease.

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

On your way out of the Diner you are met with boots taking a long stride towards you and Scott. Those boots belonged to a flannel clad gentleman with a cowboy hat tilted slightly out of his face. He was clearly built and flashes a dashing smile in your direction. You could practically hear Scott rolling his eyes before the guy even got a word out. “Clipboard! I didn’t know they made scientists so pretty nowadays.” The man lowly whistles at your appearance, you quickly caught on to the ‘Clipboard’ nickname he gave Scott. “Get back to your YouTube channel Tyler.” He puffs out while sliding back his sunglasses. The cowboy named Tyler stops in front of you, quickly glancing between the two of you. “What’s your name little lady?” His voice is oddly sweet and not patronizing. You tell him your name and he softly repeats it back with a smile.

“Well then, come find me when you’re done working with a bunch of pencil pushers.” He lowers his sunglasses and sends a wink your way before walking back toward the Diner.

It was so quick you hardly noticed how Scott stopped chewing his gum and clutched down hard on his jaw, teeth slightly grinding. Turning to face Scott again, “Who the hell was that?” Your laugh pulls Scott out of his train of thought. Hearing your soft giggles at the interaction makes him almost forget why he was even frustrated in the first place. “Just one of those Hillbillies with a YouTube channel. He especially likes to throw fireworks for theatrics.” His sigh was heavy as he continued forward back to the Motel and not answering any other questions you had about Tyler.

It wasn’t long before getting back to your room. Scott dropped you off and went back to the rest of the team to discuss the 3D model, he hoped it was long enough to fully process and get a look at the models.

Following the next few hours held up in your Motel room, it wasn’t anything fancy. A small TV that frames the adjacent wall from the bed and a dingy chair and desk, the bathroom was next to them and was brightly lit by yellowed lights. Definitely not dreamy, but this was a company's purchase for the crew so you couldn’t complain.

You slightly jump out of bed when you hear a loud bang from your door. It started storming a little while ago and just thought it was a branch slamming on your door but then you heard another knock. You weren’t going to sleep but put on your pajamas and laid down to doom scroll on your phone. You're fast on your steps as you reach the door and open it slightly to see who was knocking. You were so surprised to see Scott behind the knocking.

“Well welcome back.” You greet as you open the door for him, gesturing for him, “Come in, come in.” You smile at him. You turn to go back to lounging on your bed. While doing so, Scott gets the chance to take on your appearance. A matching set of pajamas that fit your body perfectly, he swallows heavily at the sight. It was possible that he was so pent up from being out in the field for multiple weeks and hadn't been with a woman during that time either, now here you were. So sweet it’s sickening and so pretty sitting down on the corner of the bed, looking up at him with almost doe like eyes. It’s driving him up the wall.

His hands rest on his side while stepping in your room, closing the door behind him. He was slightly damped by the rain and wind outside, he breathed in the air around him. “So what brings you by? Is there another Tornado that needs to be chased?” You ask, slightly anxious to hear his response. He sees your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Oh, no. I just wanted to let you know that the model is up and running. Plus, my room’s power went out.” He explains, in the meanwhile he looks around your room, he also seemed nervous.

You nodded and were about to respond but he cut you off, “And I wanted to check up on you.” He stretches out the “and” like he was contemplating on finishing his sentence. You were pleasantly taken aback. It was nice that he was seeing if you were okay. You were flustered nonetheless and blushed. “Oh mister big and stoic is concerned for me?” You playfully jab at his demeanor, he’s quick to your mocking behavior. Again he slides off his sunglasses and places them in his shirt pocket, he hangs his head down and laughs. “Alright I’m going to go now then.” He teases back, there’s a small panic behind your eyes, you didn’t want him to leave.

“No- I mean you can hangout for a while if you want. I’m not doing much. You can wait here till your room gets power again.” It sounded just as pathetic in your head as it came out of your mouth, desperate to get more time for him. He caught on to it, “Yeah?” A small smirk crept on his lips. His figure coming closer to you, his large frame tower over you. It did something to you, “Yeah.” Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat, causing you to swallow down hard.

He was taking so much space, almost suffocating. “Tell me, were you checking me out when we first met?” He was testing the waters, what kind of response were you going to give him. Either it would be welcoming or dismissive, but the way blush started creeping up your neck to your cheeks he could tell. “What? No, I mean- no. Why are you asking?” You clearly flustered at his question and lied right through your teeth and it was so obvious. “Okay.” He bites down on his gum and smiles down at you. He quickly sits next to you and faces the TV. Ignoring what just happened between the two of you, riling you up in the process.

Ignoring the building tension, “What are we watching?” He nonchalantly asks, his gum smacking in his mouth. A smug look plastered on his face watching you try to regain your composure. Skipping over his previous statements. “Um… T- The news about the weather tomorrow.” You blink. He then reaches up and takes off his baseball cap, his hair ruffles out in some crazy hat hair before he shakes it out with his other hand. His brown hair flows softly down. It’s then you take in his scent, slight sweat lingers but you can smell his cologne, it smelt like an ocean side with a hint of sandal wood. It fit him perfectly and drank up the scent to fill your senses. This man was something. His cocky attitude, his demanding presence, oddly quiet demeanor. Everything about him was causing your brain to lag. His clothes cling slightly to his body due to them dampening from the outside weather.

You tried your hardest to pay attention to the television ahead of you, you really did. But with Scott next to you, the storm outside, y’all’s conversation. It was too much for you to handle. His white button down was a bit dirty from the chase earlier from today and now cling wrapped around his arms, chest, thighs. Your mouth watering again while you ogle the man before you, it was wrong, so wrong. Hell you were technically his superior as he worked for your company, but right now it felt like he held all the power.

Then boom. A loud bang crashed against the ceiling, the storm getting heavier. It spooked you enough to jump beside you, trying to find some sort of comfort and gladly Scott gave you that. His rather large hands are quick to rest on your shoulder, sliding up and down to ease your concerns, “You’re alright, it’s just the wind. Nothings gonna’ hurt you.” He shushes in a low tone which calms you down. Though his clothes are wet and cold, his body is hot. Feeling how warm he was as you pressed deeper to his touch.

Your eyes shift from being closed to looking up at his, then glancing down to his lips. He mirrors you, both of you leaning in closer. "We shouldn't." You aimlessly try to guide yourself back into reality but your body caves. His lips ghost over yours, “Can I kiss you?” He softly asks for permission, his whole body aching waiting for your response, but didn’t have to wait any longer as you pressed your lip to his. His other hand reaches for your face, cupping the back of your neck while his other latches to your waist. Practically pulling you on top of him. You gripped his collar to stabilize yourself and followed his direction.

He pulled you on his lap, finding it comfortable. Your hands continue to grasp on to get some leverage but find it futile in the long run. The kiss begins to become heated by the seconds, occasionally breaking it to pant out quick breaths. He was taking over all your senses. Making it hard to focus on anything but him.

Scotts lips leave yours and make their way down to your neck. His attention to make you feel more than comfortable was overpowering. Your hands have a mind of their own, snaking up to his head and gently pulling his hair. Your eyes screwed shut, he watches your reactions - to see what causes the most pleasure. His hand moves around your body, around your hips and butt, around your chest groping your boobs. That seems to get some whimpering out of your lips. "You're so pretty like this." He tells in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Your legs squirm around his, trying your hardest to find some pressure to grind down on. Your head rushes with blood, finding it hard to wrap your head around pleasure. "I mean you're pretty regardless, but fuck." He groans through his teeth.

You moan into his mouth as he captures your lips for another kiss.

“Be honest with me again.” You nod, slightly still ditzy after that heated kiss. “Were you staring at my arms earlier?” There’s a slight teasing tone- actually, more like a cocky tone. He was still on about this. You nod your head a little sheepishly, having to admit it made it feel shameless. “I knew it! You were checking me out! Thought I caught you, but I wasn't sure I was making things up in my head.” He barks out a quick laugh and continues to kiss up your neck, drawing more airy moans and some giggles.

“What, no smart-ass response huh?” He teases. And he was right, you couldn't think of any kind of response, your mind is fogged up. Mewing out was the only response as he found the spot on your neck. He continues to work you up, all while dry humping him, your pajama shorts riding up in the process. His clad trousers gave the perfect mount. His growing erection being more prominent and pressed tight in his boxers and pants, now with you moaning in his ear and grinding on him shamelessly.

You did try your best to quiet down, even with the storm outside these walls were thin and god forbid if any of you teammates heard what noises were coming from in your room, there would be no question what was happening between the two of you. But his hands and mouth on you made you uncontrollable. He thought quickly to fix this predicament. "Shush, baby, no more whining. Here - here" He coos, moving one of his hands and sticks his index and middle finger in your mouth. Shutting you and your withering moans up. Your mouth drooling over his digits. Your eyes are half glazed over, if you had the consciousness to see what you looked like you’d be ashamed how easily you were subdued. Falling under some sort of submissive headspace. It was so quick you hardly noticed it happened, but maybe you wanted this for a while now. Especially after the rough and exhausting day you had, you just wanted someone to take the reins in for you.

And now the pet name, you wanted to hear him call out for you with that every time from now on. "Look at you, such a desperate thing you are, huh? Isn’t that right baby.” You nod aimlessly, his fingers pressing down on your tongue. You were putty in his large hands, not that you were complaining. Your hands fumble with his shirt's buttons, at a sad attempt to take it off yourself. He thought of mocking you once again for this poor attempt but chose to lend a helping hand. Assisting with the majority of buttons you and him manage to take off his uniform top, catching a look of his chest you moaned again. He was cut with a light amount of chest hair, your sounds muffled with his fingers. It was hard to calm yourself, you were like a dog in heat, nothing was quite satisfying your needs yet. You needed more - more of him. "Fuck'n hell. You are just so needy." His hair crazed by your frantic hands, lips were bright pink, and eyes half lidded. Talk about needy, he wanted you with the same amount of passion.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a groan of frustration comes out of your mouth. “Please, please, please.” You aimlessly beg. For what? You and him knew, for him to finally fuck you rather than all his teasing. But Scott needed you to verbally admit it to him. “Huh? What do you need? Spit it out.” Again the condescending tone loud and clear, he does this to rile you up. For knowing him for such a little amount of time, he knew how to press all the right buttons. "Please, I need you." you mutter in his ear while closing your eyes and pressing your head between his shoulder that meets his neck. It was more like a whimper than begging but the overloading sensations were driving you in a haze. Still humping his leg, it was quite a sight that even left Scott to groan. But he can’t let you off that easily, that would be too nice. He kicks off his shoes and socks, preparing for the inevitable.

"By “I need you”, that really means that you want me to fuck you.” Taunting you even further, you squirm under his grasp at the boldness his words were. You nod your head, knowing your voice would betray you.

He acknowledges your approval and lays you backwards towards the bed. Your head close to the edge and him by the pillows, he rests on his knees. His body still covered most of your space, he was just so big. "First we're going to take off this little matching set." His voice sounds airy, your legs spread open to invite him to get even closer to your body which he gladly scoots in. His hands reach for the hem of your top and pull it flush off your body. Your nipples harden from the cold air hitting your hot body. Closing your eyes at the sensation, you were quick to discover that Scott leaned down to give each of them a kiss. His hot tongue swiftly swirled around your left one, but he didn't stay long as he gave the same treatment to your right. You watch him, his eyes never leaving your sight.

His lips travel down your sternum to reach your belly, he peppers kisses along the way, all while giving you short praises. All of his words make you pant.

Reaching your matching shorts, he slips both hands up your thighs and grabs the hem to pull the shorts off of you. Once off, you were left only in your panties. A small spot clearly dampened in the center, it would be embarrassing to you normally but you were so aroused. He practically moans at seeing it. Knowing he worked for you enough. He continues to scoot back so he could comfortably lay his head on your thighs. He takes in your scent, fingers loop and starts pulling your panties off. You throw your head back from the anticipation, then a sharp swat on your inner thigh makes you pop your eyes down back at him. "Eyes on me, you better watch me eat you out." The tone being similar to the voice he had in the truck when he calmed you down, it was assertive and demanding.

You clench down on nothing and start to squirm, he rubs the spot he smacked and gives you a soft kiss, it felt like an apology. He breaks his gaze and looks at your cunt. It makes you a little nervous at first, closing your legs at first, but he tells you off. "What? You're shy now?" He tisks, looking back up at you. Almost like a warning. "You were just begging for me to fuck you." His words made you gush, you could feel how hot your cheeks were burning. Your voice squeaks, "I'm sorry." This apology makes him stop, "It been a while since she's gotten some attention huh baby?" He questions but already knows the answer, yes it has been a while. Referring to your pussy as "she". You nod as an answer.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take care of her and you." That cocky attitude shines bright while he begins his work. His lips kissing the skin around your desperate cunt. Some dragged out moans are flying past your lips, it really had been a long time since being with another person, especially someone who knew how to get you this excited.

Unwarranted your hips buck at his face, your body was fed up by all this teasing. His hands pin down your thighs, stopping you from future bucking.

Those pink soft lips finally make contact with your most sensitive part of your body, causing you to yelp. He found this adorable, already moaning. It was blissful, he knew what he was doing. Circling his tongue. Now and then flickering down to your cunt, your hips try to wiggle but his strong grip holds you down at his mercy.

Your hands go from covering your mouth so you didn't tell from the pleasure, to the comforter, to his hair to pull him closer. You continue to stare down at Scott as he does his work, trying your best to not thrash your head back and groan. But by keeping your eyes open you can see him grind down on the bed, he was getting off from eating your pussy. And rightfully so in his opinion, you tasted amazing, if he could he would keep you here for an eternity without any complaint.

While tongue fucking your hole, his nose brushes against your clit. Sending shock waves throughout your body, making you a moaning mess. Chanting his name with pleas and curse words. A tightness builds in the pit of your stomach, your thighs close his head between them. Keeping him in this position. Your back to begging, babbling out slurred sentences barely coherent with moans breaking mid way through and you losing your train of thought.

It was almost amusing to see you this unwired, usually you were a very punctual person. Now here you were cumming all over a man's face that you met less than 24 hours ago. A man you only know his first name, but Scott was something over worldly. Your voice pinches in a high note as your climax racks through your entire nerve system. Screwing your eyes tightly, blinding white light flooding your vision.

Hell, he almost came in his boxers watching you cum. Watching tornadoes for a living was thrilling but seeing you come undone with just his tongue was 10 times more exciting for him. Now he needs to see you cum again but this time in his dick.

Fluttering your eyes open to your own personal show, Scott lifted back and sat up right. He's focused on unzipping his pants unaware that you lifted yourself on your elbows to watch. Once he spots you, he pulls out his wallet from his pants and takes out a condom that was tucked in a sleeve. 'How cliché' you think. One hand pulls down his pants and boxer while the other rips open the condom wrapper. A simple act being so seductive when he did it.

Your eyes could contain themselves from peaking down at his dick. The tip was hot pink, pebbling pre-cum down his shaft. He was a big boy. You were practically salivating at the sight, he almost laughs at your drooling. He rolls the condom on swiftly. "How do you want to do this?" His voice piercing your ears, looking back at his blue eyes. You were puzzled at the question, he simplifies for you. "What position?" He states it obvious, but not rude.

Without a second thought, "Can I ride you?" He groans loudly at your words. But regains his composers, "Of course you can baby." He smiles, his gum still smacking against his teeth. You had completely forgotten he was even still chewing gum. He lay down on the pillows beneath him. His teasing manner doesn't affect you as much, you were determined to give him a good show. Meanwhile you crawl your way between his legs and settle to ride this tornado wrangler.

His chest heaves, he was so much larger than you. Your legs just about wrap beside his hips as you position yourself. Bending over his tall torso you plant a kiss on his jaw, leading to his lips. He kisses you with a passion similar to a fire, your hands drop to his chest to steady yourself. Pulling away and reaching below you.

A sharp hiss slips past his closed teeth, your hand wrapping itself around him. Your hands were soft, unlike his, the feeling being unfamiliar to him. You found pleasure from watching his face scrunch up. Lining yourself and making your way down. His large hands grip on your waist at the contact.

A choked moaning rips through your throat. Fuck it had been a while since you had a dick up in there and the stretch was unwelcoming with a full sense of pleasure. "That's it." He groans while his head is pressed down on the pillow.”Holy shit baby! You are squeezing the shit out of me.” A mixture of a chuckle and moaning follows behind his words. "Relax baby, let me in." He breathes heavily, lifting his head up. Scott's hands grip harder on the small fat on your hips. Stilling your moving till you start relaxing your muscles.

“I know, I know. Just a little more baby, c’mon you’re a big girl." His voice is hoarse. You could have come from that voice alone. You slow your movements, focusing on your breathing and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once your body's are flushed, your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You couldn't make a noise. Now was his opportunity to be a moaning mess. The way your cunt swallowed his cock was velvet, you were causing so much pleasure, he was almost lost of words. Almost.

"You better ride baby." It almost sounds like a threat. His unwavering pissy personality showed true and you couldn't say no, you did as you were told.

Lifting yourself up and letting gravity do the rest of the work. You started slow at first. You were still adjusting to his size, he was heavy in your cunt.

That slow pace was short-lived as Scott's hands dragged you back and forth. His grip was bruising, his jaw clenching down while watching how his cock is meeting together with your pussy. You looked quite spectacular from his laid position, your palms flat to his stomach, your tits bouncing up and down with you. The faces you make, filled with nothing but unadulterated bliss.

He's held on for the best he can, letting you get a couple of minutes for you to be doing mostly all of the hard work. But his knees bend behind you and he lifts you slightly above his hip. Then he begins his own rhythm to fuck into you, thrusting his hips and greedily taking you. Not that you were complaining. The air is knocked out of your lungs, ending up at a silent groan, helping with your noise control.

The incessant, slapping noise of him rutting in your cunt was loud. Though you tried to contain yourself, it was impossible that the rooms parallel to each side of you didn't know what was happening. The small room is filled with flesh meeting, heavy breathing, groans and moans. "Feels fuckin fantastic, you love this big dick in your little pussy." He can't help but voice his thoughts, unwavering. You wordlessly nod as he continues, "Huh baby? Fuck'n shit. This pussy is going to be the death of me!" He rolls his head back, stalling his thrust momentarily. Soaking in the way your cunt squeezes him.

Gaining more air to your lungs you can finally moan out his name, sounds like the angels from above calling out to him. if he could hear his name come out of your mouth continuously then it might just be heaven.

Again that tightness is winding up quickly. Even more intense than your last orgasm. Trying to shut you up now was going to be an impossible hop to leap through, yet at this point both you and Scott were so focused on each other and blocking the outside world, you could care less when your combined moans.

As your own orgasm was approaching, you could tell Scott's wasn't that far behind as you. His movements become irregular and his knees start to buckle from losing momentum.

It was all a blur when your second orgasm ripped through your whole body. You collapse on the 6'4ft man, your whole body shakes above him. Your head spins, it feels as if you were drunk. Definitely drunk on his cock.

When you come to, he is lifting you back to the side for him to pull out. His condom partially filled with his semen, he knots it before discarding it in the small waste bin by your night stand. The storm outside still roars loudly, you're glad you're stuck in your motel room with him.

He lays back down on your bed, "I think I just died a few seconds ago, I've come back to life." Scott exclaims, his pupils expanded to almost cover the blue hue, rather they were almost black. He really was coming down from such a high.

Shallow breathing through your nose before turning to face Scott. His face looks so fucked out, no doubt you look the same. His hair is wild and there are faint lipstick marks on his face and neck caused by you. "I haven't came that hard in months." You were still breathless from what he had done to you. "I can say the same." Dry and quick laughs come from both of you. “You made me swallow my gum.” You still try to compose yourself.

Both of you lay down under the covers of the Motels comforter. Lazily turning your head in his direction, you could easily fall asleep in his arms right now. He holds you close, his body warm surrounding you in a comfortable state.

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

"Stay the night?" You ask, similar to a plea. And how could Scott say no to that face? That was short lived, "I need a big strong man to protect me from the storm." He watches you giggle, amused by your own joke. It was laced with faux concern. "Only because your room has power." He pokes fun back. You were giggling at his joke.

Your laughter comes to a halt when the lights above you and TV shut of. f all of a sudden, causing you to jump back into Scott's arms. He's once again amused, "You know you're really jumpy for a tornado lab scientist." He quips back. You try to act hurt by his comments in hopes of retracting his statement for an appraisal instead, but he saw right through your act and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

You stayed together until the morning.

[loveluvrs]

not enough l max verstappen x reader

request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3

author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!

Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me. 

“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him. 

“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance. 

I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded. 

——

When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes. 

With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings. 

After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed. 

maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there? 

georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?

dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before

landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself

I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue. 

I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me. 

she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her….. 

annoying people attract annoying people ig……. 

Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……

we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing. 

I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead. 

This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me. 

He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me. 

I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up. 

“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh. 

He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”

I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly. 

I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.

I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.

“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now. 

I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.

He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place. 

Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore. 

 A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”

Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”

“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way,  you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off. 

[pha55ed]

I'm Stuck Forever By the Glue || F1

type :: fluff tw/cw :: none contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, lewis summary :: sweet little things they do for you, because i lov fluff - inspo: glue song by beabadoobee

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Carlos Sainz | 55

Although it's cheesy, Carlos loves you buy you flowers. All types of flowers in different colors, not just the same basic bouquet of roses over and over again. He even goes as far to research the meaning of a few flowers and then ask the florist to center the bouquet around that specific flower. He loves sending the flowers to your work, your house, or gifting them himself to you. Seeing your reaction and how your smile slowly forms from the flowers never gets old from him. If he could, he would plant an entire acre of flowers just to keep you smiling.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Music is surprisingly a pretty big inspiration in Charles life, it helps him during his toughest moments and happiest times. So it's no question that he has to dedicate something related to music to you: hence his pre-race ritual is to listen to a custom playlist he made. The playlist is filled with songs that remind him of you, from cheesy love songs, slow ballads, or even stupid joke songs. It doesn't matter, because it reminds him of you, his number #1 supporter.

Lando Norris | 04

This mf acts like he's going to war, but it's cute so you'll give him a pass. Despite it being against the FIA rules, he doesn't care, it's only against the rules if they find out. But, he has a small little photo of you that he put on his F1's car dashboard. It's small and hidden from his overhead camera, but it's in a perfect little spot for him to look at it while checking his gas and speed. He's so glad he has his helmet on, because every time he looks at that photo, he can't help but gush and smile. Once the race ends, he sneakily takes it off and puts it into his pocket. And then when it's race day again, he puts it back on with some tape. It's so DIY but who cares, he loves his girlfriend :))

Oscar Piastri | 81

Although he's not super up to date with recent trends, the second he saw this trend he couldn't help but join: the "I love my girlfriend" shirt trend. But the only issue is, he didn't want to buy it himself, he wanted YOU to gift it to him. Just like how girls want flowers but don't want to ask for flowers. So for weeks on end, he would subtly send you memes about it, how he thinks it's sooooo ugly and sooooo stupid (he's lying out of his ass). But once you gift him the "I love my girlfriend" shirt, he's wearing it nonstop. To bed, to the gym, to practice, fucking everywhere. He's like those nasty toddlers who bring their musty ass plushie everyone. But you can't help but smile every time he wears it, he's just so happy with it on. Not to mention you got him a small,,, in black,,,, so it's BASICALLY like a muscle tee... drooling omfg.

Lewis Hamilton | 44

Fashion is something Lewis is famous for, and there's no question as to why. He's one of the only people who serve cunt when it's race day, you'd think he's the owner of F1 because of how fancy he is. So, when you asked him to play Dress To Impress with you, he didn't even hesitate to join. He loves playing it with you, even playing on his own to grind for stars and money. But the only con is,,, he eats you the fuck up. Like, I'm not even joking... He bought VIP, custom makeup, ANDDDDD speed walking. Not only that, he knows how to layer his shit, add patterns, and even practices poses beforehand. But one of the cons of playing with him,,, if he doesn't win first he's such a baby.

"Did I not eat???? How tf did a faceless win?" "I dunno, baby." "Let's join a different server, they're rigging it."

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?” 

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything. 

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head. 

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit. 

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get. 

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak. 

“What if… you don’t go?” 

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it. 

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself. 

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.” 

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days. 

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.” 

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.” 

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm. 

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead. 

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips. 

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold. 

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?” 

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.” 

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it. 

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you. 

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill. 

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect. 

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-” 

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.” 

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling. 

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it. 

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his. 

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.” 

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable. 

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line. 

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head. 

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.” 

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.” 

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes. 

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room. 

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all. 

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go? 

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same. 

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae. 

It was Taehyung. 

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 

“We weren’t arguing.” 

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know. 

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you. 

Neither of you said anything. 

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from. 

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice. 

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess. 

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did. 

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact. 

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope. 

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways. 

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all. 

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?” 

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you. 

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious. 

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart? 

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask. 

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name. 

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too. 

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you. 

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart. 

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.” 

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious. 

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him. 

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway. 

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too. 

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be? 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him? 

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes. 

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack. 

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him. 

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no. 

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed. 

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down. 

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window. 

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him. 

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son. 

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes. 

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?” 

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him. 

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into. 

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did. 

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything. 

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs. 

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen. 

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you! 

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat. 

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off. 

“Y/N!” 

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy. 

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now. 

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run. 

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand. 

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more. 

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that? 

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again. 

He had to hate you. 

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair. 

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists. 

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!” 

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale. 

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point. 

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!” 

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes. 

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what  Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead. 

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much. 

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground. 

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood. 

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[written-in-flowers]

Her Pretty Lords: Sanhwajoong x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubi!demonline x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 18k

Summary: A summons from a princess has the demons of Black Keep shaking in their boots. A person from the past comes back into YN's life, and she wonders if she'd truly lived in the living world.

Tags: dominate/submissive themes, polyamorous relationship, mentions of abuse/rape/domestic violence/illness, talks about misogyny and misandry, lost families, carriage sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, nipple play, breast play, foursome (m/m/m/f), oral sex, rough oral sex, vaginal fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, pet names (bitch, slut, whore, kitten, darling, pet), light degradation, fingers in mouth, light spanking, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, some squirting, facials, cumming in mouth, choking, biting,

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

Next

***

“It’s a beautiful day here in His Majesty’s city. This is your host, Beezee, bringing you the greatest hits this morning! Totally wicked news just came into the Hot Spot, and it is piping hot! A few little Imps have been talking and they say a new cambion has entered our massive royal family! We here at The Hot Spot want to personally welcome lovely Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees and a Lady of Eden! Princess Lilith must be thrilled to hav-”

“WHAT?!”

It was not her mother’s voice that stunned Andromeda into silence. It was the name. Your name. The vision of a little girl with dirt on her hands and under her fingernails came to mind. Her heart tore itself to pieces at the memories: baking cupcakes after school, snuggling on the couch during prime-time television, singing in the garden and dancing in the living room. Her pride. Her joy. The sole reason she’d stayed in the living world made her way to the burning city of Inferno. Andromeda did not know whether to be weeping from joy or sorrow. She knew this day might’ve come, but not like this. 

“Andromeda!” 

Her mother’s shrill cry cut through the garden walls. Long gone were the days she feared Lilith’s wrath. Andromeda, in her dress of pale pink muslin, left her garden patch for the pebbled paths of Lilith’s Garden. She passed several of her “sisters”, who gave her cautious glances before turning away. Andromeda knew better than to keep a child secret from her mother. She knew no matter what transpired between them, her mother would welcome any child of hers with open arms. But, she did not want this life for you. She wanted you to be free and untethered from traditions or expectations. Even when you severed yourself from her, she let you live as you wanted. It broke her heart, but at least you were free. 

Andromeda appeared in the archway to her mother’s private garden. In an enclosed circular space, her mother sat playing cards with her sisters, Gaia and Rhea. All three women wore the flowing gowns and floral headpieces typical of Ladies of Eden, but Lilith stood out. Long black hair tumbling down her back, her curved horns reached far behind her and her piercing crimson eyes set her apart from the glowing beauties she’d birthed. Daughters of Lilith did not resemble the common demons in the city and circles: a warm glow radiated around them, bringing life rather than death, and were the finest creatures in existence. Andromeda knew you’d be as beautiful as her when she had you, and she’d been right. 

“Yes, Mother?” Andromeda said, standing there looking strong and firm. 

“Do you care to explain this?” 

In her hand, Andromeda saw an official paper. Her stomach flopped over and over seeing it. She moved forward and read it herself, her suspicions proven true. Yes, you had come to Inferno. Yes, someone did discover who and what you were. Hot tears stuck in her lashes as she reread your name. Her special girl. Her honey cake. 

“Andromeda, explain yourself, now.” 

“What is there to explain, Mother?” she asked, reading your death date. “I had a child and didn’t tell you.”

She remembered that day with a heavy heart. She’d gotten the call from a nurse in the hospital, telling her you'd been admitted. Being your mother, she rushed right there with hopes of saving you, but she came too late. Never did the world feel so cold or be so dark as it did then. With her precious girl gone, Andromeda saw no reason to remain in the living world. She came back home where she made amends with her family. She hoped you never came to Inferno. She hoped you managed to turn your life around, become a good person, and be accepted into Paradise. Big dreams, she knew, but she dreamed them. 

“Tell me why,” her mother demanded coldly. “Why would you keep such a thing from your family? From me? I thought we had moved past childish secrets.”

“I kept her a secret for the same reason I left to begin with.”

Lilith scoffed, “I learned my lesson with you, Andromeda. I would have let your little cambion roam free beyond Eden. I wouldn't want to lose another daughter.” 

Her sisters told her about their mother’s anguish. They told her Her Highness cried for months after she left. Lilith received very few things when Inferno was first founded. She was Lucifer’s only true-born daughter; a sister to The Seven Princes. Her future lay in marrying one of them and producing children for the circles. But, when she took over Eden, slaying Adam and corrupting Eve, she made her own path. Lucifer let her keep her garden, where she grew her daughters from the flowers around her. Andromeda, she knew, came from a peony. Gaia, the eldest from gentle primroses, and Rhea from beautiful hydrangeas. Lilith birthed all her children through the flowers; they followed suit to have their own daughters. She liked to think of you in a bed of freesias, a flower symbolizing freedom. 

“Sister,” Gaia spoke softly. Her hair in soft yellow curls, her solemn brown eyes looked at her with concern, “You know you could have told us.”

“If you had told us, the poor child wouldn't have suffered in the circles,” said Rhea sternly, square-jawed and dark-haired. “I can’t imagine the pain she’s endured since her death. The circles are so unkind and horrific. Why would you rather she go undiscovered and suffer than be acknowledged and accepted?”

“I didn’t want this for her,” she said, still reading the letter. “I wanted her to forge her own path as our mother did once. Being a Lady of Eden, she would have been stuck here forever. She wouldn’t have space to grow or explore herself. I didn’t want her to feel as trapped as I once did.” 

“I have changed since then, Andromeda,” her mother said, standing from her seat. “I thought I would’ve proven that to you by now.”

“You have, Mother,” Andromeda saw her sad eyes and went to her. “I know you made many changes on my behalf. I know they were hard for you,” she continued, holding her mother’s hands gently. “I am forever grateful for them. The precautions I made with YN were long before our reconciliation. I’m sorry,” she said with all the honesty behind it, “I’m sorry I kept this from you; that I kept her from all of you. But, I was only doing what I believed was right at the time.”

“Enduring pain at the hands of a man-thing just to keep your daughter from demons?” her mother said sadly. “Andromeda, you might be a free spirit, but you are also a blind spirit. Your hesitancy and pride caused your only child to be thrusted into a world of pain and loneliness. I spoke with Wooyoung today-”

“-Ugh, not Wooyoung-”

“-And he told me that YN is living with Asmodeus’s heir, Seonghwa.”

Andromeda vaguely remembered her cousin. Handsome, brooding, and bookish, her mother liked to call him ‘The Brain’. Hongjoong was ‘The Beauty’ and San was ‘The Brawn’. She wondered how you ended up there. A shot of fear struck her. 

“She was their pleasure slave, wasn't she?”

Lilith paused, but eventually blurted out, “Yes.” 

No. This was all her fault. Her stubbornness led to your enslavement. The thought of her daughter in rags, chained and abused night and day made her collapse into a seat. What had those man-things done to you? A slew of lewd, obscene images crossed her mind. Hongjoong’s insatiable, broad appetite became common knowledge amongst the elite. Stories of Seonghwa’s cruelty made the strongest of demons shudder. San might be the sweetheart, but he could be deadly when crossed. More tears rushed down her cheeks thinking about it. She knew with a single retort or disobedience, those men would crush you. Andromeda could not let it go on any longer. She needed to save you. She needed to bring you home.

“I must go to her,” Andromeda said shakily, putting the letter on the table. “I must go to their keep and get my daughter. Mother, I promise I will present her to you soon, but I need to get her before they do-”

“-That will not be necessary, my sweet peony.” Her mother embraced her warmly, putting Andromeda’s head on her shoulder as she sobbed. She felt a hand soothingly rubbing her back, a gentle hum playing in her ear. “I already sent word to The Black Keep. She will be brought here this afternoon.”

“Mother, I must see her,” Andromeda emphasized through thick tears. “I have to talk to her. I have to tell her I’m sorry for all of it; I need to make this right.”

She knew you resented her. It did not take a genius to see what you thought of her, but she never stopped trying. Despite being an adult already, she could not help worrying for you. A demon might’ve found you and dragged you to your grandmother. They’d clamp their invisible chains, and you’d never be free. It appeared the inevitable finally happened, and in the worst way. 

“You will see her,” her mother assured her. “Our YN will come home. I promise.”

Regardless of who their father is, Asmodeus’s boys could not ignore a Princess’s summons. 

****

“Just focus. Keep your eyes on your target and focus.”

Seonghwa stood by the work table in Octavius’s lair, watching you from afar. On the table, he’d placed a flower pot. After filling it with soil and fertilizer, he wanted to experiment with your abilities. He deduced you could manipulate, grow and speak to plants, but he sensed you could do more. Seeing whether you could create plants from nothing was the first test. Firmly standing at the table, you pressed your hands to the ceramic pot and closed your eyes. 

“Envision the type of flower you want, and see if it comes up,” he directed. His eyes remained trained on you, and you could feel them studying you. 

A sunflower. You hadn’t seen sunflowers in ages. Picturing their pointed petals, a vivid yellow surrounding a fuzzy center, you imagined it sprouting from deep in the soil. It’d break through the dark dirt, absorbing the nutrients needed to accelerate its growth. You saw it unfurling from the thin roots extending to plant itself in the very center. A distinct tingling started in your shoulders before vibrating down your arms to your fingertips. You shuddered from the tickling shivers up your spine. You kept yourself focused on your goal. You had been at this for an hour, and you hadn’t grown anything. Maybe growth isn’t in your skill set; you might only be able to rejuvenate plants, not grow them from nothingness. Once you felt the weakness starting to come over you, you stopped.

Opening your eyes, you saw an empty pot.

“I suck at this,” you complained, kicking the wooden table leg. “What’s the point in a plant ability if I can’t grow them? I was able to do it the day I met Octavius. Why can’t I do it now?”

“Perhaps because the plants you controlled flourished in the ground,” he suggested, arms crossed. “Whereas this soil isn’t being touched by you,” you heard the realization come to him as he stared at the rich dirt.

You did it before he asked. Sliding your cold fingertips into the soft earth, you reimagined your sunflower. You kept yourself focused on the image in your head, and you gasped once something smooth touched your fingers. What felt like thin strings extended into the pot, bringing on a twinge of excitement. The feeling passed by, you opened your eyes and expected a flourishing sunflower. Instead, you stared at the bare soil again. You squeezed your eyes closed, pushing your head forehead to try capturing that feeling again. This produced nothing again. You continued this with no success. You’d done it before. Why could you not do it again?

“Damnit,” you hissed, removing your hands from the pot. “Why isn’t it working?”

“It might be too advanced for you,” Seonghwa guessed out loud. “We should’ve started with something simpler?” He searched the work table, pushing aside tools and papers before finding a seed packet. “Simple basil seeds,” he said, sprinkling some in the small pot. “Let’s see what you can do with these.”

“It’s not going to work,” you frowned.

“Yes, it will. If you can heal them, you can grow them. Go ahead and see.”

“Can’t we take a break? Go do something fun?”

“This is fun.”

“No, it’s frustrating.”

“Science isn’t always going to be a fun time-”

“-Science is dumb, and so are these experiments,” you lashed out. One of Octavius’s offspring hissed at Seonghwa, and you saw him regard the reaction.

“You’re only saying that because it’s not going your way,” he pointed out. “Just do it one more time,” he moved behind you, long arms wrapping around your waist, “Then we can do something else.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he said, kissing beneath your ear. “We can do whatever you want,” he said, putting stress on ‘whatever’ which made you grin.

“We can always test other abilities too,” you suggested as he guided your hands back into the pot. “I’d love to see the side effects of my kisses.”

“An interesting suggestion, Kitten,” he said. “Come on, let's do this one more time.”

Planting your feet firmly on the ground, you sink the seeds into the pot. Their smooth shells pressed against your fingertips, and you imagined them cracking open to reveal their roots. Soon, the thin veins traced over and around your fingers. You opened your eyes to see sprouts gradually lift from the bottom to the surface. The pointed leaves with their soft ridges sprung from thin stems. Blooming a bright green, they grew until they reached over the edges of the pot. You beamed, a giggle coming through as you removed your hands from the dirt. Gently touching their leaves, Seonghwa placed his hand over yours. His touch felt so different from San or Hongjoong. They worked with their hands. Seonghwa worked with his mind, leaving his hands smooth and soft. He put his other arm over yours to hold you close.

“It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you replied.

“You’ve done great work here,” he said, “Overall, I mean. Everything in here looks so healthy and lively again. I don’t think I’ve seen cognizant ones like this in a long time.”

“Because you created them, then left them to rot when they no longer served a purpose or amused you.”

“I know,” he brought your other hand to your chest, holding you tightly, “I’ll admit I’m guilty of neglect. Dennis’s-”

“-Octavius’s-”

“-Octavius’s appetite became too much for any normal demon to handle alone. I thought the slaves or the servants who came in here might satisfy them, but I was wrong. But, they’re lucky they have you now,” he kissed the curve of your neck, “To care for them. Most of the demons here would’ve passed out after being with Octavius so long, but not you. You kept going.”

“It felt good,” you said, eyeing the herb leaves. “The best sex I ever had in my life.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“What about with me?” he said, pouting comically. “You cum so much with me, Kitten. I go for as long as you want,” he kissed the spot again before kissing further up. “I’ll prove it to you right now, if you want. We haven’t done it in a while.”

“A while? We had sex a few days ago when you came back home.”

“That’s too long for us,” he slid his hands from you to trail up your stomach. “Kiss me,” he whispered in your ear, “I want to know what you did to Mingi that made him fuck your cunt without permission. Sweet Jongho pumped out nothing by the time your toxins wore off. I won't even tell you what I heard from Yunho. Your kisses sound deliciously toxic.”

“You want to experience it yourself, Master Seonghwa?” you turned around to face him, hands wandering up his chest. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” he whispered, drawing closer to your lips. “I want to be consumed by you too.”

“Then come closer.”

Right before your lips could touch, an offspring hissed. You turned your head to see Yunho coming through the lair’s entryway. Any heat in your cheeks cooled down at the sight of the house manager. He stood by the arch, a silver tray with an envelope on it in his hands.

“Master, Mistress,” he inclined his head to each of you, “A letter has arrived for you, Master Seonghwa.”

“Just put it over there, Yunho,” he nodded to the other end of the long worktable. He turned his attention back to you, eyes filling with lust again, “I’ll get to it later.”

“Forgive me, sir,” Yunho intervened, “But I highly suggest you read this now.”

“I’m busy, Yunho,” he said, nuzzling your nose before pecking your lips, “Later.”

“It’s from Eden, sir.”

The both of you froze. A week has passed since your official identification card arrived in the mail, making you a real citizen of Inferno. Since they said visiting Eden is voluntary, you’d decided to put it off as long as possible. The mere possibility of seeing your mother in the flesh scared you. Late at night, whether alone or in somebody’s arms, you pictured various scenarios. In some, she wept and embraced you. In others, she smacked and insulted you. Those hurt the most because you deserved that.

Yunho brought the letter over to Seonghwa, who took it. Breaking a green wax seal, he left you by the table. He moved about the room as his brain worked the words, comprehending and considering them before speaking or taking action. The prolonged silence twisted your anxious insides. You exchanged a glance with Yunho, who appeared as concerned as you.

“Well?” you finally said. “What does it say?”

“‘Dear Lord Seonghwa,” he read out loud, venom in his voice, “It has come to my attention that one of my granddaughters is living in your house. As she is a Lady of Eden and no longer a plaything, you will present her to me as is customary for new cambions. If you do not comply, I will have no choice but to take this to your father, Prince Asmodeus-Oh give me a fucking break!”

Seonghwa balled up the letter and tossed it away. You saw him fix his waistband as he paced back and forth. “She talks about it as if we knew the whole time!” he snapped, eyes concentrated on the ground. “She acts like we kidnapped you! We didn’t know until a month ago! That bitch…”

“Seonghwa,” you walked over to him, intent on soothing him, but he raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s not as if we have you tied up in here,” he continued his tirade. “We’ve treated you well, right? We’ve fed you, clothed you, pampered and cared for you. You could ask for anything, and we’d give it to you. All you have to do is bat those pretty lashes and I crumble like a damn cracker!” He ran his hands through his hair, “Doesn’t she know the effect you have on me? Doesn’t she know that I, Park Seonghwa, a Duke of Lust, has been weakened by the most beautiful cambion to ever walk into Inferno? In all of Hell, as a matter of fact?”

“I guess not.” His words touched a sweet spot inside you. “Have I really done that?”

“Yes, obviously! If I didn’t want you, YN, I would’ve tossed you in here and forgotten you existed,” he said, stopping only to speak before ranting further.  “I would have taken you to her if you'd wanted me to. I would have no objections to you seeing your family. You simply never asked, and I wasn't going to pressu-”

“-Seonghwa?” you carefully walked over to him, sliding your arms around him from the side. Instantly, he wrapped one around your waist and took the other hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Putting it off,” you said. “I know I should have gone to her sooner, but I kept procrastinating because, well…” you hated saying it out loud. If any time was good for a mind drill, it was then. “I’m scared she’s there.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes.” He turned in your arms and you rested your head on his chest. Seonghwa smelled like roses. A lovely bed of fresh roses clung to his body, not just his clothes. You buried your nose in him, wanting to get lost in his scent. “It might sound stupid to you,” you finally said, “But I…I’m scared to see her.”

“Why?”

“Because I was awful to her. I said terrible things, and pushed her away from me when she needed me.” Your throat dried up at the words. “She kept coming back to me, and I kept moving further. What if she hates me?”

“I doubt that,” he said. “If she kept trying to contact you even when you pulled away, then I don’t think she’d hate you.” 

“I’d hate me.”

“You’re you, so yes, you would.”

You smacked his arm as he laughed. “I mean it,” you said, burying your face in his shoulder, “I can’t go there.”

“That letter says you have to.”

“Can’t we pretend we never got it?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Don’t think too much about it right now. We have important things to go over.”

“Like what?”

“What you’re going to wear, for one thing. Your outfits are cute and casual, which is fine any other time, but not for this.” He sighed, hands on your biceps, “There’s not enough time for Wooyoung to make anything new, so we’ll have to find something in the closet. You need to look like a proper lady.”

“I can be a lady.”

“I’m not denying you can’t be,” he said, “But if you want to continue living here, we need to convince Lilith that you’re not being forced to stay here.” He paused, “You do know that, right?”

“I do,” you said, hugging him again. “I like it here actually. The food’s great, the greenhouse is lovely, the staff is more than helpful and you…” you smiled up as you pulled him to you by his shirt collar, “Have been so good to me.”

Seonghwa’s hands ended up on your hips, “I wouldn’t be anything else. Even with your freedom, you’re still my special Kitten. All I want to do is take care of you.” He played with the end of your hair, focused on the way it felt between his fingers, “I knew you were special when we met-”

“-Spare me the ‘I-knew-you-were-special’ pitch,” you said, giving a disarming smile, “Jongho and Yunho already used it.”

“Ugh,” he grunted, “That was going to be my line.” The two of you chuckled softly, then he said, “But they're right. I couldn’t place my finger on it at the time, but the first whiff of your scent threw me off. Not because you were a human dressed as succubus, but because humans typically didn’t have specific scents. The brothel girls often smell like a mix of every demon they’ve been humped by; they smell like flesh and blood. You didn’t. You smelled-”

“-Like honey?” you guessed, remembering what he’d told you. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “It was electrifying. I never experienced anything like that before you. It didn’t feel like a normal fuck for me. It felt intimate. It felt real. Every time feels like the first time with you. Rolling around in the sheets with you and my brothers,” he caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, “Is encapsulating. For those few moments-”

“-It’s like nobody exists but us?” you interrupted, taking his hands in yours. 

“Exactly. I get so wrapped up in you, in them, that I don’t notice anything around me. I only think and care about you, Kitten,” he pecked your lips softly, “And how my butterflies dusted off their wings when we first kissed. They haven't flown in centuries.”

“Let’s get them some exercise then,” you grinned, arms sliding around his neck. 

Seonghwa’s arms went around you: one hand slid up your back to your neck while the other went the opposite direction. Your fingers tangled in the ends of his black hair, feeling the silky curls on your fingertips up to the roots in his scalp. For that brief moment, Seonghwa drowned every sense. He became another world to get lost inside of. Neither of you noticed loyal servant, Yunho, standing nearby still until he coughed for attention. 

“Sorry, sir,” he said, nodding curtly, “But the messenger is outside waiting for a response.”

“Tell them she’ll be there soon,” he replied, only focusing on you. “Right now, she’s mine. All mine.” 

“As you wish, sir.” 

Yunho walked away, and Seonghwa took you over to the work table again. This time, neither of you concerned yourself with the plant and instead worked on removing each other’s clothes. 

All other worries went out the window right then. 

****

‘Curtsy like Yunho showed you. Only speak when spoken to. Don’t make direct eye contact with her unless told to do so. Give the brothers glowing reviews on their treatment of you. Don’t mention anything that can possibly cast a negative light on your situation. Lie, if you must. Downplay the sex. Tell her it doesn’t happen as often, and that you’re mainly their female companion, nothing more.’

They gave you so much to remember you thought your head might pop. The ruffled ends of your dress rubbed between your nervous fingers. Off your shoulders, the pale pink chiffon dress came with embroidered pink freesias and leaves. Seonghwa thought covering you in florals might endear your grandmother to you more. You hoped that it’d work because otherwise you’d be at a disadvantage. In a white and gold carriage, the four of you sat together against the comfortable seats as it went through town. 

“Do you remember what we told you to say?” Seonghwa asked. 

The brothers wore fine tailored suits for the occasion. Seonghwa wore a black and white suit, sleek with clean silhouettes; Hongjoong added a bit more color with the crimson serpent and rose pattern shimmering faintly on the jacket. San kept himself modest and simple with a 3-buttoned blue suit, which you couldn’t get enough of. You rarely saw the three of them wearing similar outfits before. Apparently, meeting royalty canceled out personal tastes. You noticed right away your pink dress would make you stand out amongst them even more. 

“Yes,” you nodded. The serpent-rose brooch on his breast gleamed in the sunlight, and you realized San and Hongjoong wore a similar one but in gold. Sons of Asmodeus making themselves known in Eden.  

“Don’t be nervous.” San sat beside you, his fingers sliding between yours to give a comforting squeeze. “Lilith will love you. Firstly, you’re her granddaughter and also you’re a woman, so you’re immediately in her good books.”

“Yeah, it’s us she’s going to bear her fangs at,” said Hongjoong, slumped in his seat and gazing out the window. “She hates men.”

“Why?”

“She likes to say it’s because she believes the female spirit should be celebrated and how womanhood is under constant threat of the patriarchy,” he said in a bored tone, “But everyone knows it’s because of Adam.”

“Adam? Like, ‘Adam and Eve’? That Adam?”

“Yup. Word was that they were madly in love, but when she disobeyed God, God created Eve to replace her,” he said. “And Adam then fell in love with Eve. I don’t remember the full story, but apparently Lilith managed to corrupt Eve, kill Adam and then claimed Eden as her own. She brought it down here, and started planting her Garden of Daughters.”

“Garden of Daughters?”

“She created her children from plants,” explained San, “So then she could control the sex of the babies. She only wanted girls.”

“Eden is a paradise,” Hongjoong smirked to himself. “The most beautiful women in all of Hell live there. God, I would’ve given anything to have my pick of them once.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You,” he smiled over at you, giving a subtle wink that warmed your cheeks. “Here, let me fix this.”

He reached over to straighten the pink diamonds hanging from your neck. He did nothing to hide his leering. His eyes stayed directly on your bosom, gently brushing it. When he settled it properly, he traced the back of his finger down to the tiny bit of cleavage. You already saw all the dirty thoughts running through his mind, creating a sly smirk. 

“You look beautiful like this,” he pondered, finger tracing over the tops of your breasts. His light touch spread warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. “I personally prefer you naked, but this is a good substitute.” 

“Seonghwa told me walking around Eden fully nude isn’t ‘acceptable behavior’.”

“Ah, what does he know? He always pisses on everyone’s parade-”

“-You two do know I’m right here?-”

“-Come here,” Hongjoong beckoned you closer, “Give me a kiss.”

“No kisses,” Seonghwa pulled him back into his seat. “We don’t have any cold serum on us, and if she walked up to Lilith stinking of your cum, it might deflect from the picture we’re trying to paint.” 

“A little one won’t hurt,” he insisted, puckering his lips at you, but you shook your head and laughed. 

“Seonghwa’s right,” you said. “There’s plenty of time for kisses later.” 

“Promise?” he pouted like a kid being refused candy. 

“I promise.” 

“What about me?” San’s hand smoothed over your lap to grab your inner thigh, “Do I get kisses later too?”

“As many as you like,” you told him, “And maybe some special ones too?” 

“My favorite,” he smiled, leaning close but forcing himself away in a deep breath. “Gosh, I wish I wasn’t so damn weak.”

“Me too,” Seonghwa agreed. 

Your devilish giggle amused the men. Demons didn’t differ from humans at all. A little glimpse of your chest or whispered promise of a “special kiss” turned them into melted popsicles. Pride fluttered whenever you left one of them wanting more, knowing that even if they'd owned you, you held the power. Your grandmother might see this at work and decide not to hate you. 

“What do you plan to do?” Hongjoong’s question cuts across your thoughts.

“About what?”

“Your mom. She's likely there. What are you going to do if you see her?”

“I don't know,” you said, playing with the ribbon bracelet on your wrist. “I haven't seen her in such a long time.”

You really wouldn't know until you saw her yourself. You pictured the last time you’d seen your mother. It’d been after graduation when you told her you’d be moving in with your friend, Kelly. She begged you to stay; she said she’d leave your father, and you’d move in together. You didn’t believe her. Maybe if you’d agreed to that, you wouldn’t have died in a club bathroom, alone and stinking of booze and sweat. You’re awful. You’re cruel. You deserved to be in Hell, not her.

“I don't think she'd turn you away,” Seonghwa repeated his words from the greenhouse. “She loved you, and likely still does.”

“If she did, she would have known I was here.” It occurred to you that your death preceded hers. She might know you came to Inferno, and doesn't want to see you. You'd understand that, if it were true. “I wouldn't blame her if she didn't.”

“We'll be right next to you the whole time,” San assured you. “If she doesn't want you around, then you know you have us.”

The words comforted you regardless of how small. You wondered what Demon Andi looked like. She must be an imposing figure, since she is Lilith’s daughter. You wouldn't care. Seeing her would be enough. 

The Gardens of Eden laid on the far outskirts of Hell. You knew it when you spotted thirty-foot tall hedges encompassing the land. Women in gold breastplate armor and leather walked along the battlements of the gates, keeping eye for visitors. Mingi, the driver for today, pulled up right to the iron gates where two more female guards stood. You only heard bits and pieces of Mingi’s conversation with the guard. The nerves swirling your guts made it difficult to care. You knew nothing about Lilith. She might be a horrid mistress of darkness who’d punish you for what you’d done. She might be so offended she’d strip you of everything. You saw yourself not putting up a fight this time.

Mingi drove through Eden, and you saw the quaint shops and houses lining the stone streets. Everything had some kind of vegetation growing around or on it. From bus benches to official looking buildings, Eden truly looked like Heaven in Hell. The air did not feel so hot, and the sun shined even with thin clouds covering the sky. It was when you arrived at the main “palace” that you paid real attention. Reaching up into the sky, the palace sat on a high hill with three walls descending in size circling the place. Flowers you'd never seen before you poked out of the cracks and overran the gates. It looked magnificent. It reminded you of fairytale castles in picture books. Beautiful. Ethereal. 

“Mingi! Dude, what’s up?” a female guard beamed brightly at him as he pulled up. “What brings you to this side of Inferno?”

“I have a new Sister,” he answered, nodding to the carriage. “She’s come to see her grandmother.”

The guard brightened at this and peeked into the carriage. Your eyes met hers, and she smiled. “Holy shit,” she laughed, pleased to see you, “Well met, Sister. We’ve been expecting you. Drive on through, Mingi".”

“Thanks, Diana.”

Mingi drove into the palace entrance and parked near a horse stable. More people wearing white and gold went to and fro, focused on their daily tasks than the new ‘Sister’ coming into town. Anxiety doubled when Mingi opened your door. You froze in place, body getting covered in a cold-sweat. You can't do this. You shouldn't do this. 

“Don't be scared,” San said, offering you his hand to help you out. “I'm right here.”

But, you’d passed the point of no return. You’d decided you’d go through with this, and you would, no matter what happened. Stepping down from the carriage, you walked with them towards the stone steps leading into the castle.

“Relax,” San said, reassuringly. “Lilith is wonderful really. She might have a bad rep, but she’s very fond of women. She won’t hurt you.”

“She’s a demon princess who feels she’s been lied to,” you noted. “She has every reason to turn me into a frog or a flower or whatever.”

“Not with me around,” he said, kissing your hand. “As long as I’m alive, you’re safe, Darling.”

A bundle of peonies on a wall followed you with their “heads”. Mama. She loved them. 

Reaching the tall open doors, more guards stood beside security sensors. Instructed to remove any jewelry or metal items, you did it without thinking. All the castle windows had no glass. Only more plant life. You could feel them feeding off the sun and carbon dioxide in the air, returning it with their own oxygen. Tiny bumblebees floated around flowers on the wall, and butterflies flew near the ceiling. You tried finding comfort in the environment, but it only reminded you of her again. You wished she’d leave you alone, but also remain in your spirit at the same time. She might not even be here. You might be freaking out for nothing. Passing through security, Mingi’s weapons and a blade San kept hidden were turned into an armory window.

“My lords!” a female voice chimed. 

You looked up to see a young woman coming down the steps. In a gown of white muslin, she bowed and greeted the four of you. She wore a tiara of daisies atop her dark hair, and painted the same ones around her thin eyes. Unlike succubi, this woman glowed faintly. Something about her radiated warmth and gentleness. You weren't sure how, but a connection happened between you. This intensified when she locked eyes with you and smiled brightly. You felt as if you knew her, though you’d never met.

“Welcome Sister YN,” she said. “Her Highness has been eagerly waiting for you. We are so glad you've arrived at last. I'm Artemis, Daughter to Lady Rhea. We’re cousins!” she nearly leapt as she hugged you tightly, giggling with delight.

“A cousin?” you never thought about your extended family. Your mother never mentioned them. She always steered away from the conversation whenever you’d asked. “Um, wow. Nice to meet you.”

“Where is Her Highness?” Seonghwa asked, searching for her in the large hall. 

“In the citrus groves,” Artemis answered, her eyes surveying him. “She is taking tea there right now. She wishes to see you and your brothers as well.”

“Lead on, then.”

Artemis linked her arm with yours to guide you ahead of the men. “I can't believe she invited them here,” she huffed irritably. “Men in Eden. It’s not right.”

“Men don’t live here?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Before your mother left us, we weren’t allowed to leave Eden. Grandmother said that our walls and gardens are meant to protect us from those who would hurt us.” 

“They’re not like that,” you told her, recalling how the masters treated you before you gained freedom. “They might not be Prince Charming, but they’re good ones.” 

“Psh, there’s no such thing. You’ll see that with time, Sister.”

“Maybe that’s why they’re so worried about meeting her,” you said. 

“They should be,” she replied. “Princess Lilith is the Guardian of Eden, the Queen of Flowers, and Mother of Womankind. She protects all women, and celebrates their femininity. Were it not for her, many of us would be pleasure slaves in the slums or working in the circles.”

You tried hiding your face, shame coming over you. You'd made that choice: escaping one evil to end up in another. For a brief moment, you imagined a life where you knew the truth. But, this thought was interrupted by music.  

A tranquil melody came from somewhere nearby. In a courtyard of flowers, you saw three women sitting on stone benches. They all wore long thin dresses they kept belted at their waists. Hair falling down their backs, they might’ve been mistaken for angels if it weren’t for the curled horns and tails poking through their gowns. One woman sat playing a lyre lightly, while the other two harmonized in song. You recognized the language as Latin, or at least you thought so. The women must’ve felt your stare since they gazed up as you walked by. They smiled and waved, and you did the same. Comforting. This castle felt comforting and safe. 

“Good morrow, Sister,” one passing woman said to you and Artemis. 

“Um, morning?”

“Morning Sister Calypso.”

“Is everyone here related?” you asked Artemis. 

“Sister is the general term,” she explained. “Ladies of Eden see all women as sisters and Princess Lilith is our mother. She birthed most of us in her gardens, while some are granddaughters of different generations.”

“They mentioned I'm a first-generation granddaughter?”

“You're one of the first granddaughters.”

“There are others?”

“Oh yes. Princess Lilith had twelve daughters. For instance, I’m a first generation too because my mother, Rhea, is Lilith’s third daughter.” Artemis then looked at you curiously, “Did you not know that?”

You had twelve aunts? Twelve? “No. My mother never mentioned them to me.”

“Then this will truly be a grand homecoming!” she beamed, unbothered by your ignorance. “Everyone’s here! Everyone! Oh, I just know the other girls will be excited to meet you. You’re all they’ve talked about since this morning. I know I’ve been elated. It’s always wonderful when a new Sister comes to Eden.” 

Artemis then led you into a citrus grove. The fragrant smell of oranges, peaches, lemons, grapefruits and other citrus fruits wafted between the trees. You imagined they stayed ripe and growing regardless of season. Mama had a mango tree once, and she’d let you pick them when they became ripe. She’d love it here, you knew that much. 

The sound of laughter carried through the trees from up ahead. Your feet turned cold and numb in your sandals, and your sweaty hands skidded on the smooth fabric. The row of trees ended in an archway leading into a small enclosure of more flowers and fruits. At a stone table, three women sat chattering over a game of cards. Two of them wore the white flowing garb of Ladies, while a third wore a peach colored one. She had a golden circlet in her black hair, several purple orchids molded into the band. Her otherworldly appearance intimidated and fascinated you. Her long horns stretched behind her, and she'd put gold bands around her short tail. This was Lilith, your grandmother. 

“Grandmother,” Artemis brought you through the archway, “Our new Sister has arrived.”

All three women turned when you approached. Lilith gazed upon you, studying from afar. For a moment, you worried she’d transform you into a plant or bug to stomp on you, but no. Instead, the Queen of Flowers smiled fondly. All three women stood up from the table, and she walked over to you. Crimson eyes scanned over your face many times, as if examining a beautiful painting.

“Well, look at you,” she finally said, lifting your chin to turn your face side to side. “Oh,” she sighed, “Such a gorgeous flower. You really do look like Andromeda. If you’d come to me from the beginning, you would’ve flourished so well here.”

“Thank you, Your Highness?”

She laughed, a chime in the wind, “Call me ‘Grandmother’, darling. Every Sister here does.” 

Her warmth turned icy as she gazed upon Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and San behind you. “My lords,” she said coldly, hands clasped in front of her, “Welcome to Eden.”

“Thank you for inviting us, Your Highness,” Seonghwa said with a curt bow. “It's a pleasure to see you again, Auntie.”

“It'd be a merrier occasion if it weren't marred by current events. Tell me,” she stepped forward, “When did you plan on informing me of my granddaughter?” 

“As soon as her paperwork went through,” Seonghwa answered. “I swear, Your Highness, we didn't know she was a cambion. We were equally surprised when her powers began flourishing. I suspect being in a demonic environment triggered her dormant abilities. We, of course, would have told you once we had confirmation of who and what she was. YN wanted to visit right away, but we told her we should wait. This delay wasn’t her fault at all.”

“And how long had she been your pleasure slave?” This question stunned the men, so she continued, “Demons such as yourselves would not take up a beauty like YN because she's a good servant. I am more than aware of a man's appetites and inability for self-control. How long?”

“Three months or so,” he answered honestly. 

Her disapproval came out in a soft grunt. 

“We never did anything Lady YN didn't already want,” he continued. “We would never do anything to hurt YN.”

“As far as you know, boy,” she said spitefully. “YN?” her tone suddenly turned soft again as she turned to you. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” you admitted, looking into her eyes. “You might look down on that-I don't know- but I have enjoyed living with them. They treat me well there, and even more so now that I'm no longer a slave.”

She considered this. Like with Seonghwa, you felt her surveying you. “Is that so?” you saw a teasing smirk cross face, “You're a true Lady of Eden then. I only ask because men can be aggressive when they want something a woman won't give them,” she told you gently. “You were a slave for so long. Imagining what men put you through sickens me. If I knew about you earlier, you'd be living here where you're safe.” 

“She's perfectly safe with us, Auntie,” San said. “I'd never let anyone or anything harm YN. She has become very special to all of us.”

“She also has a bodyguard who watches over her day and night,” Seonghwa added. 

“With those plants of hers, she's not exactly a helpless kitten anymore,” Hongjoong said. “Her blood is poisonous and her pets are very protective of her.”

“Pets?”

“The plants in my greenhouse,” you told her. “Seonghwa's experiments. They went a long time without being taken care of, so I have been watching over them. They’re pretty attached to me, I think.”

“How intriguing,” she said, as if the plants weren't Seonghwa’s idea. She wrapped her arm around yours, “I will take YN from here. You three can wait in the parlor. I think you’ll find it satisfactory.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Seonghwa lightly kissed your cheek, “See you soon, love.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” teased Hongjoong before he kissed you, “Or anything that I would.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes until I see you again, Darling,” San said in his crooning tone that made you laugh. You laughed in his gentle kiss, shaking your head. 

“Ugh, just go,” you said, pushing gently. You watched them leave, putting them to memory before turning to your grandmother. Her confused expression worried you. “Sorry,” you said quickly, “It’s how we, uh, you know, say goodbye.” 

She nodded, wrapped her arm around yours and started walking. “How long have you been in Inferno, sweetling?” she asked, not going to touch the romantic display of affection. 

“About eight or nine years now,” you admitted, wondering if you should have kissed them in front of her. 

“Where did you end up when you arrived?”

“Circle of Lust.”

“As expected,” she snorted, leading you out of the enclosure and through the grove. “A woman as beautiful as you no doubt had plenty of lovers in her lifetime.”

“I might have had a few.”

“How did you pass?”

Shame suddenly came over you. You felt cold as you said, “I overdosed in a bathroom.”

Lilith remained silent a minute, mulling over the information. “How tragic,” she finally said, “That must’ve been terrible for you.”

“I guess. I don’t remember much of it, to be honest. I remember getting super dizzy, and throwing up in the toilet. There was this terrible pain in my chest, so I was breathing hard and choking on the vomit. I sort of, I guess, knew I was dying? I started panicking which made everything worse. When I got here, I was in this big forest for a super long time. I didn’t even know what I was looking for to be honest.”

“Nobody does. That is the purpose of the forest, but you found it eventually. Oh,” she frowned, “I can’t imagine how terrified you’d been. The circles are not gentle places. I understand why you might have chosen to be a pleasure slave.”

“I wanted to escape the circle, and that was the only way.”

Her face soured at that. No doubt hearing about her granddaughter working in a brothel upset her deeply. “How disgusting,” she said, “Those pigs in the slums peddling my daughters and granddaughters to the highest bidders. I’ve seen the conditions those women live in, and it’s despicable. I’d burn the whole damn brothel district to the ground if I could. But, as that’s Asmodeus’s territory, I have no authority there.”

“But, I bet any man who lingers around here ends up in worse shape than if he’d stayed away?”

She smirked, “It’s happened quite a lot. Those demons in the city like sneaking in here to try getting at my girls. The last time one of them did that, I had the scum broken on the wheel. Nobody touches my girls. Nobody.” You heard the bite in her voice as she brought you out of the citrus groves and through a garden path. “Every woman ever born is a giver of life. We take care of the home and hearth; we endure and persevere against the men who do us harm; we fight and stand up for ourselves and our sisters. Our plants,” she stopped by a flower wall, “Our special Eden are our children and our protectors.” She cradled one blossom in her hand, brushing the supple petals with her thumb. “Nature is strong. I’ve seen tornadoes level out entire towns in a single night. I have witnessed the oceans rise and drown thousands of people. I wanted all my daughters to be nature personified, strong and resilient against the odds.”

“That’s admirable,” you stood beside her, taking in the floral wall. “I don’t know if your ideals got through to all your daughters.”

She paused, sadness in her eyes, “Andromeda.”

“Andromeda. She let my father abuse her for years. She took every hit and insult instead of fighting back. If she was a demon, why did she let that happen?”

“Not all strength is physical,” she explained. “It takes lots of endurance and courage to remain in a relationship like that one. I imagine she put up with it for you.”

“For me?”

“If your father hadn’t beat your mother, he certainly would’ve turned on you. Andromeda would take a hundred punches for you. I know she’d jump in front of a knife or a bullet for you.” 

Deep down, you knew she spoke the truth. You couldn’t count the amount of times your mother got between you and your father. She’d find a way to redirect his anger to her, so his fists landed on her face instead of yours. 

And you abandoned her. 

“Is she here?”

“She is. Where did you think I was taking you?”

You left the flowers behind and she brought you into another part of the massive castle gardens.

‘…He’s got something that I can’t resist, but he doesn’t even know that I-I-I exist.”

You heard her before you saw her. Her soft voice moved through towards you like a lighthouse in a bay. Lilith let you go ahead of her while she hung back by the entrance. Surrounded by all varieties of flora, you gulped down the ball in your throat. In a thin dress of pale blue, Lady Andromeda looked different from Andi YLN. Cream-colored horns stuck upwards in waves, with a short matching tail. She wore a headscarf to keep her hair out of her face like at home. Tears burned your eyes looking at her. Every terrible thing you ever said filled your ears and made the feeling worse.

“Other fellas, call me up for a date, but I just sit and wait. I’d rather concentrate on Johnny Angel…"‘

Her voice sounded exactly the same. It washed over you like a cool breeze on a hot day. With her hair held back, you saw her profile. The shape of her nose matched yours, but her jawline came out sharper. Soft lips curled into a smile as she tended to the garden bed. You recognized tomato plants by the ripe fruits hanging off the vines. She’d wept when you walked out of the house, duffle bag over your shoulder and anger in your chest. She begged you to come back. She pleaded for you to stay with her; she said you’d be safer with her. You never wondered what she meant by that. You watched her withered hands work the soil gently, pulling weeds from the bottom. Her singing brought the old favorite back to you, and it came out as easily as breathing.

“And pray that someday he’ll love me, and together we will see how lovely heaven will be…”

The lyrics stamped into your memory flowed out shakily. They came through your thick tears, which flowed freely down your cheeks to your jaw. She stopped singing right away. Her hands stayed in the dirt, staring at the plants. Slowly, your mother turned her head to look at you. Regret brought forth more tears as you stepped into the sunshine. Her eyes, a similar shade to yours, stared at you in shock and disbelief.

“YN?” she whispered your name, hands curling into her dress. “Is that…”

“Hi Mama.”

Andromeda carefully stood up and faced you. She nervously walked towards you, drinking in the vision of you. You looked over her face again, remembering every smile. Any moment, you expected claws to sink into your shoulders to drag you from her. They’ll pierce your skin, whispering the hurtful things you said and claimed. You weren’t worthy of this reunion. You should never have dared show your face to her. The closer she came, the more tears she shed. She hates you.

“Little Andi…” she said, “My honey cake…Look at you,” she exhaled through her chest, “You’re so beautiful; so much more than I ever imagined.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

You sobbed, and there she came. She wrapped her arms around you, the scent of peonies in her skin and hair. Each sob wracked through your body, uncontrollable in every breath. The trembling went from shoulders to hands; you thought you might get weak knees from it. Every argument. Every disparaging remark. Every time you ever told yourself you hated her rushed back. She'd done so much for you, and you'd kicked her to the curb. 

“I left you alone,” you cried. “I left you alone. I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush now, sweet baby,” she cooed, stroking your hair and pecking your temple. “I expected it to happen, if I’m honest. Daughters of Lilith are hard to keep locked up forever.” She finally lifted your head from her shoulder and cupped your head in her hands. “The only one I couldn’t forgive was myself.”

“For what?” you asked through your tears.

“For not telling you things in the first place,” she said. “I should have. Maybe if I'd been honest, things may have turned out differently. Look,” she released you, though still holding your hands, “Let’s have some tea and we can talk about whatever you want.”

You nodded, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before she withdrew her handkerchief.

She wiped your cheeks for you, studying your face again. “I bet you were a maneater up there,” she smirked knowingly. “I used to laugh at any boy who ended up infatuated with you. They had no idea who they were getting into.”

“I know. I remember.”

“Lucas,” she called out into the air, “Lucas!”

“Your Highness?” a young boy materialized from the thick hedges, dressed in an outfit made of leaves like Peter Pan. Only difference was his scarlet eyes and the tiny horns sticking out of his head. An Imp. 

“We’ll take afternoon tea in the west gazebo today.”

“Right away, my lady.”

She guided you out of her plot and towards the western side of the garden. “What have you learned about yourself so far?” she asked on the way there.

“That I can regrow plants and talk to them,” you said.

“That’s all? Hm, we’ll have to fix that.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off her. You worried if you did, she’d disappear. 

“Mama,” you said, “What happened after I left?”

“Not now, YN.”

“Did he get better? Worse?”

“YN.”

“I want to know, Mama,” you told her. “I left you behind. I want to know what ended up happening. He couldn’t have been happy about it.”

She sighed, “He wasn't. He saw it as another servant walking out on him. He didn't even change after I gave him pestilence.”

“Pestilence?”

“Sickness curse. It can take any form of illness, and your father's turned into cirrhosis of the liver,” she said. “The doctors told us it was too advanced and irreversible. They could've done a transplant, but he’d be on a waiting list for a while. He ended up dying before then.” You caught a shadow of a smile on her face, “He was told to stop drinking, and you knew your dad. He always did whatever he wanted; he never listened to anyone, no matter how good the advice. I woke up one day and found him throwing up everywhere. He died at the hospital.”

“You called me,” you said guiltily, “And I ignored your call.”

“I know.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have gone home for the funeral at least.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

She brought you to a wooden gazebo in the middle of a circular garden. Two small children had set up a spread for tea time. At least, they looked like children. You learned a long time ago demon imps often resembled children. The sole difference between an Imp and demon offspring were the eyes: Imps had dark glowing eyes, while demon children only had crimson rings. She brought you over to the table, where they’d set up an afternoon tea setting with tea, finger sandwiches, scones and small tartlets and cakes. You had no appetite. The sadness sitting inside you took up too much space. 

“Why would you not want me to come home?” you asked her, watching her prepare a cup of tea. You almost did not want to know the answer, but asked. 

“They would have found you.”

You paused, not noticing the Imp placing a finger sandwich on your plate. “Who?”

“Demons.” She paused for a moment, eating her sandwich then said, “I didn’t want you to end up here, YN. It’s why I did not register you. It’s why I tolerated and endured your father. His wickedness kept away any demons who might’ve tried sneaking into our home. If they discovered you, they would’ve taken you away from me. I…” she let a small dandelion wrap around her finger, watching it coil like a snake until it sprouted past her fingertip, “I told myself when I left home that I’d follow my own path. I told myself that just because I was a demon did not mean I must live like them. I knew if I had any children, my mother would send demons to bring them here. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to grow up away from this, but it seems it found you anyways.”

“I don’t know, Ma,” you said, “This place is pretty awesome. Where I’m living right now is pretty bitchin’ too.”

She snorted, “Why am I not surprised? My mother will never admit that Asmodeus’s boys always come out so handsome. I just hope they didn't force themselves upon you.”

“Not at all. I like them.”

“Only like?”

“I haven't lived with them very long,” you said. 

You took her in as she ate and drank tea. She couldn't be there. This wasn't real. Any second this dream would turn dark and bleak, with its claws forcing you away again. Ever since you arrived at the Black Keep, Mama came to you more and more. You found yourself thinking of sunny days and fresh lemonade. The sight of her sitting so near felt unreal to you; another daydream brought to life to torment you. 

“Why did you leave here in the first place?” you asked her. “Seonghwa mentioned something about not being able to leave here?”

“He's right,” she nodded. “Before my return, Ladies of Eden were forbidden to leave the city. My mother claimed it was to keep us safe, but that never sat right with me. I shared the same sentiments as you: I wanted to break free. Eden might be heaven in hell, but it felt so suffocating. Instead of cherishing my darling plants, I felt restrained by their vines. There was a whole world beyond this garden city waiting to be explored. So, one night, when everyone slept, I dug a tunnel and escaped,” she shrugged. “I went to the living world and decided to make a new life there.”

“Didn't you miss it here?”

“I did. I thought about going back several times,” she admitted, eating a finger sandwich. “But then I met your father and things changed.”

“They did?” 

“Yes,” she nodded. “He wasn't the way you remember him.” She smiled softly, “He was charismatic and charming. He liked flowers, poetry and music. We used to go to dances and dance the night away, drinking and kissing. I never felt that way for anyone before. I'd never fallen for a man. I'd been taught they were violent, evil beings, but your father didn't seem that way.”

“Then he became a drunken asshole.”

“Your father went through a lot during the war, honey,” she said. “A lot of men did back then. I tried getting through to him, but nothing I said worked. Your father….A part of him died on the battlefield, I think.”

“Is he…” you felt afraid to ask, “Is he here? In Hell?”

“No,” she shook her head, “He went to Purgatory when he died.”

“Really?”

“He hadn't sinned enough to end up here but wasn't good enough for Paradise,” she said. “In Purgatory, he can repent and earn his way there. Kind of like how people here can fight in the arena to win their ticket to Purgatory.”

“Have you seen him?”

“No.”

“Would you ever want to?”

She hesitated, sipping from her tea cup. “Yes.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don't know. To slap him? To kiss him? To tell him that I hated him, loved him, missed him, wanted him dead, wanted him alive? I don't know, darling.” You watched her grow a daffodil from out of her palm. She looked at it with forlorn eyes, “We had our first kiss in this meadow outside of town. He blew on a daffodil, and when I asked him what he wished for, he said he wished for me to kiss him.” She laughed softly, “I loved him so much back then. I thought he was the love of my life.”

“You thought?”

“Yes, until I met someone else.” She looked over at you, tears in her eyes and daffodils spiraling around her fingers. “You were the most precious being I'd ever seen. I realized I hadn't known true love until you came. I held you in my arms that night in complete disbelief. I couldn't believe a creature like me created something so pure and innocent. I never loved anything as wonderful as-YN?”

And you hated her. You, her true love, hated and ignored her. She loved you beyond all reason, never giving up on you once, and there you'd been: in your designer outfits scowling as you held the phone to your ear. You couldn't imagine the heartache you'd caused. Tears stung around your sinuses, and you sniffled them away until they poured back out. Your head fell into your hands, body shaking in each hard sob. The day you died must have been the worst day of her entire life. When her gentle hands touched your arm, you knew she'd comfort you like she always did. 

“Come here,” she said, gradually pulling you to face her. With your body turned to her, your mother tenderly removed your hands from your face. 

“Why don't you hate me?” you asked her thickly. 

“I'm incapable of hating you,” she answered, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Even when you walked out of my life, I loved you. You might understand that some day, but I couldn't hate you ever.” She wiped your tears with her handkerchief again, “I do wish you'd stayed with me, but I knew you had to go. I knew you had to spread your wings and fly away from home, even if that leaving me-”

“-I was so mean to you,” you rasped. “I never called or wrote to you. I told people I either didn't have a mom or that we don't talk anymore. Mama,” you took both her hands, “I used to like telling myself I lived with no regrets. But, I've realized that isn't true. I regret cheating people out of their money. I regret getting high in the bathroom. I regret being cruel to you, Mama,” you said in a breath. “I regret drifting away and never looking back. Maybe if I had-”

“-Let's not live with ‘Maybe’,” she interrupted. “She's a bitch and says mean things.” She tucked hair from your face and said, “I don’t hold it against you, love. It must’ve seemed that way to you because you didn’t know the truth. I should have told you. There’d been so many times where I considered it, but by the time I decided, you’d already gone. The past is the past, sweetheart. The best thing the two of us can do is move forward from it.” She kissed your cheek, and you basked in the comfort of her kiss. “Eat something. You must be so hungry.”

The two of you sat there for what felt like hours. You learned everything about her then: her birth, her escape, and her life in the living world until she met your father and had you. You told her about your flashy, living fast life before your death. Lovers, enemies and friends all sprung back to you as you talked. You wondered, as you told her a story about a night at a club, if you lived a fulfilling life. It sounded so shallow out loud. You never made lasting connections, never settled down or stopped to relax. Everything was money, sex and power. Nothing meaningful remained to you. 

“Think of it like this,” she said when you told her this, “You're getting a second chance.”

“A second chance?”

“You're not a prisoner here anymore,” she said. “You're getting a second life down here; you can make those connections and have that meaningful feeling, whatever they might be.” She hesitated before saying, “You can start with those handsome men who adore you already.”

“They just like screwing me,” you scoffed. 

“It doesn’t seem that way to me.”

“You’ve only seen me with them for a few minutes, and we weren’t really talking to one another.”

She laughed at your words. “I don’t need to see it to feel it. I saw the four of you together, and I immediately sensed their protectiveness over you. How Seonghwa was quick to tell your grandmother that none of it was your fault; San holding your hand so comfortingly, telling you it would be okay-”

“-How?” 

“The flowers, Darling,” she said, the daffodil sprouted brand new as her words. “Sons of Lust do not attach to partners very easily. Most of them never marry or take up personal slaves. Yet, here are three of them being more than fond of a single person.” She let the flower swirl around her hand, “When you can see through your flowers, you’ll be able to watch them as much as they watch over you.” 

“My flowers…When can I learn how to do that?”

“With time and practice.” She then said, “I can teach you. If anyone should be showing you how to hone your talents, it should be another botanical sorceress, not a bunch of horny incubi.” 

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would,” she smiled. “Why would I not? I would’ve been your teacher if you’d known sooner. You could also learn from your aunts, your cousins, your nieces-”

“-I have nieces?!-”

“-And your grandmother, of course, will insist on teaching you. They’re all masters in various aspects of our kind, so you wouldn’t be missing out on anything.”

“We’d love to teach you!”

You and your mother turned to see two women standing a few feet away. The blond wore a soft yellow gown while the brunette wore a lavender dress with floral borders. When they smiled at you, a special kind of warmth surged in your chest. You had never seen these women in your life, yet you felt as if you knew them. The same feeling you had with Artemis.

“YN,” your mother stood up and you copied her, “These are two of your aunts: Gaia,” the blond curtsied, “And Rhea.”

“Hello,” you smiled at them. 

“You really do look like Andromeda,” Rhea said in a low voice, marveling over you as they approached. “I always wondered what natural born daughters might look like. My own girls hardly look anything like me.”

“Neither do mine.”

“Your daughters? You mean, my cousins, right?”

“Yes,” Gaia giggled. “If a certain someone,” she shot a look to your mother, “Had told us about you in the beginning, you would’ve known all of us. Oh,” she hugged you tightly, which made you laugh, “How we’re so glad you’re here! We’re always happy to welcome a new daughter!”

“You had your turn, Sister,” Rhea told your mother, “We’re taking her to the rose gardens now.”

“No, Sisters, I think that’s too soon.”

“Too soon for a girl to meet the rest of her family?” she questioned, already taking your hand in hers. “Mother insists on it.” 

“My girls are going to love you!” Gaia beamed. 

*****

The rose gardens must've been an Eden daughter hangout. Several poofs, pillows and blankets scattered around like picnic spots with a pavilion in the center. Underneath it sat a group of girls in the flowing dressdz and floral crowns of Eden Ladies. They appeared to be chatting together with a spread of food and drinks in front of them. All of them looked like the epitome of beauty. You understood what Hongjoong meant by wishing he could stay. You would too, if you were him. 

“Ladies!” Gaia clapped her hands for attention, “Ladies!”

The girls all turned to look at her. “Your cousin is here,” Rhea said with a smile. “Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees and a Lady of Eden. She’s your Aunt Andromeda’s daughter, so she's your first gen-”

“-Cousin!” The group cried in unison, rushing down the steps to you. 

You didn't have a moment to breathe before they were on you. Kisses, tight hugs and excited squeals surrounded you. Somehow, the group guided you over to the pillows and blankets in the pavilion without you realizing. You finally got a look at all four of them: you recognized Artemis, but you didn't know the other three. They all wore different flowers in their hair, likely signifying something about them. 

“Um, uh, hi?” you began with uncertainty. 

“YN,” Artemis began, “Allow me to introduce our first cousins: This is Kali, Aunt Rhea's daughter,” the brunette with the button nose and square jaw waved, “This is Hera, Aunt Aurora's daughter,” the freckled red haired girl smiled, “Aurora's your mother's sister; you haven't met her yet.”

“Okay, cool.”

“And I'm Hestia!” the youngest of them chimed in. She had lilies weaved into her long, coarse braid, and large almond eyes. “Sister Freya’s my mother. You haven't met her either but she's going to be thrilled when you do. We heard about you this morning, and we've gotten a bunch of stuff ready for you.”

“Like what?”

“Your garden patch for one,” said Hera. “We put all the tools you might need, if you're the kind to tend the plants by hand. I personally prefer using magic, but everyone's different.”

“There's also your room,” Kali said. “Grandmother said you can sleep in the room next to Andromeda’s, so you guys are together.”

“How was your talk with her?” asked Artemis curiously. “My mother said she'd kept you a big secret from us. You guys must have had fun catching up.”

“It was…special, for sure. I never thought I'd see her again,” you said. “I didn't know I was part demon until Seonghwa and his brothers bought me. Well,” you thought for a moment, “They technically stole me since San killed my previous owner-”

“-You were a slave?” asked Hestia, her eyes wide. “How terrible!”

“Yeah, for a while. But, it's how I found out who and what I am.”

“Wait, you mentioned Seonghwa,” said Kali. “Asmodeus’s son?”

“Yeah.” You saw their unsettled glances, “Why? What's wrong with that?”

“It's not that it's…” she exchanged a glance with Hera, who hid a giggle behind her hand. She then blurted out, “Oh my god, what are they like?!”

“Huh?”

“Are they romantic? Passionate?”

“What stuff do they like?!”

“They’re so dreamy,” Hestia swooned. “Seonghwa’s eyes are like deep pools I could stare in forever. He’s so sophisticated and smart.” 

“Hongjoong’s such a rebel,” said Hera, the tips of her ears turning pink. “He never does anything people tell him; he doesn’t act like the other men that come here. They’re all so boring.”

“And he’s so exciting!” beamed Kali. “I heard he used to go to the brothels in the city and buy the whole house for himself. One girl said he could go for hours.” 

“Ugh, gross,” said Aretmis with her arms crossed. “I can't believe you three. Daughters of Lilith fawning over useless man-things. It's shameful.”

“It's okay to look, Sister,” Hera reasoned. “We like men but we don't like them,” she explained to you. “They like seeing us women as playthings, so why shouldn't we see them the same way?” 

“I get that,” you nodded. “I used to be the same way. Men liked to use me, so I used them back. It definitely got me farther than it did for them.”

“Ooh, tell us more!”

You spent some time telling the girls about your experiences with men. From high school athletes to hot shot business guys, every man you’d slept with gained you something in return. Whether it be popularity, a higher status or money, you never hooked up with someone unless it benefitted you. The meaningful relationships you could have built really turned into stepping stones to something better. Once a guy began boring you or lost his purpose in your life, you found another. The men in clubs or bars were the morsels you devoured in between. Some treated you well, others not so much. By the time you entered enslavement, you’d learned how men think and act.

“They don’t act any differently down here,” you shrugged, picking at a grape from the spread. “It was rough at first, but once I figured out my place in the world, I adapted to it.”

“That must have been difficult still,” Artemis frowned. “Having men abuse you night after night, being demeaned and having your dignity stripped off you little by little…I’m surprised you’re not sick or pregnant from being in those places.”

“I guess I was lucky,” you shrugged. 

“Then you were bought by our uncles,” said Kali. 

“In a way. They’re saints compared to the way some men before have treated me.”

“What I can't get over is how you disrespected so many of your fellow women,” Artemis said. “Women are blood through our feminine spirit. You went around sleeping with other womens’ husbands and boyfriends to satisfy and secure your own needs. You speak about ruining people's relationships as if it doesn't matter to you. Didn't that bother you?”

“It does now, I suppose. I never thought of it like that. Breaking people up wasn't my intention.”

“Only an unexpected result,” she drawled. 

“But, they weren't the only casualties in your search for power and money,” Hera noted, sipping from a wine cup. “You were hurt as well. You might have not known it at the time, but those fleeting relationships left you empty inside. I know they must have. None of your lovers stayed, did they? They always picked their wives or girlfriends over you, didn't they?”

“Funny you mentioned that,” you said, finding the irony humorous. “I told my mother the same thing. I spent so much of my life floating around that I didn't make anything lasting. The friendships I had were shallow and self-serving. The romantic relationships I built could be torn down in minutes. I thought I was living at the time, and in a way I did, but was I really?” 

You heard the hedge nearby shift slightly, and every nerve in you stiffened. As the girls discussed their opinions on men, you took a whiff of the downwind scent. Cinnamon. Candy. Roses. Your boyfriends clearly hadn't gone to the men's quarters as directed. 

“Getting married and having children isn’t a marker of having lived well,” said Hestia. “That’s what my mother says. It can be for some people, but not everyone.”

“Being charitable, loving with your heart and building a home and community of people you care about,” said Artemis. “Scheming, cheating, lying, and ruining others' lives in pursuit of your own desires doesn’t sound meaningful to me. It sounds exhausting. It sounds lonely and sad at the end. Burning so many bridges leads to loneliness. I’m not saying you need to be best friends with everyone, but having people who love you isn’t bad.”

“My mother loved me,” you said out loud, though you hadn’t thought about it. “She loved me regardless of what I did or said. I…” you stopped eating the grapes. That sinking guilt weighed down your stomach, “I never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally.”

“As it should be.”

Their scent came to you once more. You turned your head to the bushes and called out. 

“I know you guys are there!”

“Huh?” Artemis looked in their direction, “Who's here?”

“Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San.”

“Where?” asked Hestia hopefully. 

“Behind the bushes,” you nodded toward the tall hedges lining the garden. “We know you’re there!”

“They're not allowed here,” the eldest said, crossing her arms. She stood up as she said, “Come out of the bushes, you! My grandmother is going to be livid when she finds out you're not in the men's area.”

“We come in peace, oh Divine One,” Hongjoong broke through the hedge first, hands up in surrender. “We wanted to make sure our beloved wasn't upset. She was nervous about coming, and we got worried.”

“As you can see, she's fine,” she replied. “You can leave.”

“Last time I checked,” Seonghwa and San appeared next, “You were a rank below us, so you can't tell us what to do, Marchioness.”

Artemis scowled, unable to refute this. “Let them stay, Cousin,” Kali said. “They obviously aren't here to hurt any of us.”

“Hm, yes,” she said spitefully, “They’re here to collect their plaything. YN’S a free woman now, and she doesn't need your permission or supervision to be here. So, go.”

“How was your visit, Darling?” San asked, ignoring her as he approached you. “I hope it didn't go too badly.”

“‘Darling’?” Artemis scoffed. “You even call her by demeaning nicknames?”

“It's not demeaning,” you told her. “I let them call me by their little pet names. It's cute,” you grinned back at San. “It went better than I thought. We sat and talked over tea for a while. I didn't realize exactly how much I missed her until then.”

“Grandmother will be furious if she finds out you're here.”

“But you ladies are so much more fun than that boring room,” said Seonghwa sitting between you and Hestia. “There isn't anything for me to do in there,” he told her, letting the suggestion linger to make the young woman giggle and blush. “What's your name, beautiful one?”

“Hestia,” she said shyly. 

“That's a beautiful name. You're one of Aurora's daughters, right?”

“No, Freya’s,” she shook her head. 

“Ah, yes, of course,” he said in fake realization. “You know, she's my favorite cousin.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and you're just as lovely as her.”. 

“Hi Hongjoong,” Hera said timidly, playing with her hair as he sat with her and Kali.

“Hello Hera,” he replied kindly. “Hello Kali.”

“You remember us?” Hera asked with a sweet smile. 

“How could I forget you two? The dance you both did at the Hallow’s Eve festival was…inspiring,” he smirked at their bashful faces. 

You couldn't help the stab of jealousy seeing the flirtation. San caught onto this right away, “It gets us to stay here,” he explained. “We wanted to see you. It really is boring in the men’s quarters. It's literally just a room with a table and a chair.”

“I still don't like it.”

“Flirting doesn't mean they love you less, Darling,” he said, brushing hair from your shoulder. “It's a bit of fun, that's all. You can have fun with us too,” he pecked your lips, “Lots of it.”

You chuckled softly, “Is this all I do for you? Turn you on?”

“You actually make me incredibly soft,” he admitted. “I used to think I had no weaknesses; I thought I was unstoppable, invincible. But then one night this human slave dressed as a succubus came into my life, looked at me with innocent eyes and became my everything. I only think of you. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, you're in the back of my mind. I know they feel the same way,” he nodded over to his brothers. “It's just in us to do this. We thought flirting with some of them might get us a ticket out of that stupid room. And, I don't know about you, it seems like it's working.”

“They need to go,” Artemis said once more.

“Artemis, they're not hurting anyone,” Kali said, smiling at Hongjoong. He relished in the attention from the two women, whispering to Hera who giggled. “That men's room really gets boring, and there's no food there.”

“You must be hungry, my lord,” said Hera. 

“Famished,” Hongjoong replied. They both chuckled when she fed him s strawberry.

“Me too,” said Seonghwa. “But, I think a kiss might stave off my hunger. Don't you think so, Hestia?”

“A kiss? Oh my…” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. “My grandmother would be upset if she heard I'd kissed you.”

“Which is why no kissing is happening,” snapped Artemis. “Can't you see what they're doing? You girls should be ashamed of giving into their charms so easily. Ladies of Eden don't conduct themselves like pleasure slaves. Grandmother will be furious when she finds out.”

“I can kiss more than one of you,” said Hongjoong, turning to her. “I've heard your kisses are quite sweet, Lady Artemis.”

“So did I,” Seonghwa grinned. “Kissing doesn't hurt. We can show you, if you'd like.”

“No, because I'm not that kind of woman,” she said crossly. “I'm getting Diana.”

“Come on, Artemis,” you spoke up. “They're only talking. Okay, flirting too,” you said distastefully, “But it's not like they're trying to hurt them.”

“You don't understand, YN. Men aren't allowed in Eden in the first place. Their intentions are never good, ever.”

“Hello, Lady Artemis.” Mingi’s deep voice came from behind her. Your bodyguard stood at the top step, hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face. “It's nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Mingi,” she faced him, irritated by the men’s sudden appearance. “I was just telling your masters that they can't be here and neither can you.”

“I'm only a servant. I have no power over my masters, as you well know.” He took a step to her, “I thought we could go to your archery range? I saw you had a new bow and quiver, and I wondered if I could try it out.”

“Really?” she said, unconvinced. “So your masters can defile my sisters?”

“Defile is a harsh word. My masters never take a woman against her wishes, and you have my word on that.”

You saw him go closer to her, and by his soft eyes and smile, he worked his own incubus magic on her. San turned your head to him, and he kissed the corner of your mouth. His fingers trailed from the nape of your neck to your collarbone. You shuddered when he reached the neckline of your dress. 

“Can I see them?” he asked, kissing your neck. “I haven't seen them in so long. I need to touch them or I'll go insane.”

“Here? In the place you're not supposed to be that hates men who objectify women?” you laughed, amused by his eagerness.

“I'll risk it.”

“She broke a man on the wheel. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds awful.”

“Again,” he kissed your neckline, “I'll risk it. Besides, look at them.”

You turned to see Seonghwa giving flustered Hestia gentle kisses that slowly grew deeper. Hera and Kali took turns kissing Hongjoong, who rested against a pillar as both women felt up his chest. Mingi managed to lure Artemis away from the pavilion, leaving all of you alone. You thought your cousins might eventually snap out of it, and slap your boyfriends. However, things only became more heated, especially when Kali slipped her gown off her shoulders to show Hongjoong her breasts. He sighed when Hera did the same, groping one from each of them. 

“Would you like me to touch you?” you heard Seonghwa whisper to Hestia, “Or do you want to keep kissing a bit more?”

“Can we kiss a bit more?”

“Of course. Whatever you want to do, my lady.” 

He laid her down against the pillows, resting at her side as he continued kissing her. San’s lips distracted you once again, and you looked at him. “I suppose you can have a little peek,” you said, pushing down the top half of your dress and showing him the matching pink bra. 

You put his hands on them, inhaling when he squeezed them softly. San rested you on the cushions behind you as he started kissing down to your cleavage. He lifted your dress over your thighs, settling between them and tugging your bra under your tits. San let out a soft moan once he revealed them, then bent to kiss each of them. Your hands slid from the back of his neck into his hair, gripping the short strands to guide him over them. You could hear distant muffled moaning and soft kisses from nearby, but you became too entranced by San’s mouth on your nipples. Your brain connected each spark of pleasure to the spots his tongue hit, whimpering when he rapidly flicked one of them. A part of you knew how bad this might look. You knew you should stop, go home, and continue there. But, San’s cock brushed your naked core, and you slowly floated off. 

“You’re not wearing panties,” he whispered, kissing your lips softly. 

“They show through the dress layers,” you said. “Might be why everyone around here wears them. I think I might adopt the style.”

“Just to torture me, right?” he said, cupping your tits to suck your hard nipples. 

“No,” you shook your head, “To tease you all so much you bend me over the nearest surface and pound my pussy hard and fast.”

“You wouldn’t need to with those lips.” 

“It’s not as fun if I’m only kissing you to get dick,” you replied. You reached down to his groin where you felt his bulge. “I like getting it the old fashioned way.”

“Then I’ll give it to you the old fashioned way.” 

He’d started unbuckling his pants when a pale pink blur brushed near you. “What the hell is going on here?”

Your mother stood in the middle of the pavilion, hands on hips and outrage on her face. Her ‘scary mom’ face. Even years later in Hell, that face still struck fear in you. Quickly, you and your cousins covered yourselves up, while the men appeared annoyed at the sight of her. 

“We’re only having a bit of fun, Andromeda,” said Seonghwa, not moving from his spot with Hestia. You noticed her out of breath with swollen lips, with her hand on top of his where her breasts were. “No harm being done here.”

“Do you three have a death wish?” she hissed. “If anyone else finds you like this, they’ll have you strung up by your balls for sure.”

“Nobody would have if you hadn’t shown up,” Hongjoong said, clearly irritated at being interrupted. 

“Shut it, boy,” your mother spat. “Girls, I am very surprised and ashamed of you. If your grandmother heard about this, she’d have a fit. You know how she feels about you coupling with man-things, so imagine how she’d feel if she found out you were doing it in her gardens.”

“We’re sorry, Auntie,” said Hera, pushing hair from her face. 

“Yes, very,” added Kali. 

“Get yourselves together and go to your rooms,” she nodded towards the palace. “You’re lucky I’m not telling your mothers about this. I don’t care if you do it, just don’t do it here, got it?”

“Yes, Aunt Andromeda,” the three said together before getting up together. 

She then turned her attention to you, “YN, really? Is this the impression you want to give?”

“It sort of happened,” you said sheepishly. 

“Which is exactly what you said whenever I found your hand down a boys’ pants,” she spat. “Baby, if you didn’t want to live in the Black Keep anymore, you could say so. You don’t have to get your boyfriends tortured and killed to do it.”

“I would prefer to stay in tact, thanks,” said Seonghwa, standing up. “We only did it so we could see YN,” he told your mother. 

“Oh, please. You three just didn’t want to be stuck in the men’s quarters all day,” she accused them.

“That’s just an added bonus.” 

“Do you blame us though?” asked Hongjoong. “The men’s quarters are more like a prison cell than an actual room. Besides, we weren’t hurting anyone. We only intended to have a bit of consensual fun, that’s all.”

“You know how Lilith feels about men being in her garden and touching the ladies,” she scoffed. “You are fools for escaping. What if the guard went by and noticed you’re not there? You’d be hunted down just for that.” She took a deep breath, “You boys take YN home before the guards find you here.” She ran a hand through her hair, “I swear, you three…There’s certainly no dispute over whose children you are, that’s for sure. Only Asmodeus’s children would risk their necks for some tail.” She shook her head and took your hands, “Come here tomorrow and we can start your training. There’s so much you need to catch up on.”

“Hold on,” Seonghwa said, “YN’s being trained by myself and her head of house.”

“Not anymore,” she replied coolly. “If anyone should be teaching her, it is those who know her talents best. Besides, it gets you three out of her hair for a few hours.”

“It’s not like I do anything at home anyways,” you told him. “It’d be good for me to get out of the house and do something productive with my time. My closet is only so big.” You hugged your mother again, holding onto the memory of her a moment before letting go. “I'm….Mama….” you couldn't find the right parting words. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she repeated warmly, kissing your cheek. “Get sleep,” she peeked a glance at the men behind you, “Or as much as you can with them around.”

You laughed together before embracing again. Your inner child didn’t want to let her go. She wanted to hold onto her forever, clinging to the person she’d once loved the most. Your mother sensed this and hugged you tighter, her hand stroking your hair. When you forced yourself to release her, she kissed your cheek again. That surreal dread of a dream came back when you looked in her eyes. Apart from the scarlet ring around her irises, they matched yours. Except, yours always carried a look of disdain, while hers showed nothing but love. How could you do that to her? 

“Bye, honey cake,” she whispered, pecking your other cheek before stepping away. “Go, before Diana shows up.”

“Yeah, let’s get going,” agreed Hongjoong. 

“Go back the way you came, I’ll keep the guards away.” 

You hugged her one more time, letting her scent cleave to your nose, then left the garden. In the semi-darkness, the four of you snuck through the garden hedges and walls before coming upon a plain dirt path. In the distance, you heard people shouting to one another as they searched the grounds. You knew you’d need to be quick. Nerves began shooting up your body in each step, and the adrenaline started running down to your feet. You didn’t want to think what might happen if someone discovered you before you reached the castle again. Your first time in Eden and you’d broken a rule already. A warm hand stretched for yours, and you recognized San’s touch right away. He moved ahead of you, walking behind Seonghwa while Hongjoong remained at the rear. 

“There it is,” Seonghwa whispered when you all reached the staircase leading back up into the castle. 

“You!” a guard dressed in gold and white marched over to him, “Men are not allowed in Eden at dusk. What is your business here?”

“They’re with me,” you said before Seonghwa could speak. “I went to get them from the men’s room-place-thing and we got lost in the garden. It’s my first time here, so I don’t really know my way around yet.” 

The woman stared you up and down suspiciously. You thought she’d catch the lie, but instead she said, “I’ll escort you out, my lady. The gates close in a few minutes.”

“Yes, please. Lead the way.”

You followed the guard out to the front entrance where you’d met Artemis that afternoon. The women posted there bowed as you passed. It made you feel important for a second as you reached the carriage nearby. Mingi sat in the driver’s perch, his blond hair slightly tousled and lips a warm pink. He’d clearly found a way to distract Artemis. You all climbed into the carriage quickly, and Mingi cracked the reins. 

“I’m glad we made it out,” Hongjoong said, turning to peek into the window, “With our bones still in the right places.”

“Psh, you’re telling me…”

“Speaking of the right places,” San whispered, turning your head by the chin, “Where were we?”

A small chuckle came from your throat as your mouths came together in light kisses. Turning in your seat to face him, San immediately grabbed your breasts and his lips fell down your neck. The familiar hardness in your clit returned at the sudden stimulation. Fingers brushing over your nipples stirred the pot even more, his mouth reaching the neckline of your dress. You let your hands go through his dark hair to keep him close, occasionally feeling down the back of his neck and into his jacket before coming back up.

“Pull the top down,” Seonghwa ordered from nearby, and you turned to see him focusing on you and San. Hongjoong sat beside him, watching as intently. “We want to see them too.”

You lifted your back from the cushions to let San unclip the top part of your dress, then pull the zipper. Your arousal rose when he finally pulled the top half of your dress just beneath your breasts. They all moaned at the sight of your pink satin bra; their jaws dropped when San put them underneath to expose your breasts entirely. The brushing breeze from outside came in through the open windows, going over your nipples and making them cold. San remedied this with his hands and mouth: he scooped them in his palms and tenderly sucked one of them. He shifted around so your legs went over his lap, and immediately started caressing your thighs and legs. Fully on your back, you laid there enjoying his tender touches. Every brush against your skin sparked goosebumps up and down your arms; your soft whimpers became the only sound in the carriage. San eventually lifted up your dress, showing his brothers your bare sex. The three of them groaned. Seonghwa and Hongjoong rubbed their crotches while San squeezed your inner thighs.

“Sannie…” you whined, his thumb dangerously close to your pussy now.

“Give me a hand and touch yourself for me, hm?” he asked, licking your nipple in circles. “Open your legs a bit and let them see you get wet. You know how much we like that.”

They liked it a lot. Moving around until you sat on San’s lap, your back pressed to his chest, you let your legs fall on either side of his open knees. Your sex throbbed at the hands groping your chest, and the lips kissing up your neck and shoulder. You pointedly sucked and wet your fingers, keeping your eyes on the two men in front of you. Your middle and ring finger dragged down your tongue as a real cock might, and then went back up to the last knuckle. The outlines of their dicks started pressing into the pants as they watched your fuck your own mouth. They followed your fingers then down to your damp sex, mouths falling open when you lightly slid them up and down your opening. You went with the natural motions: stroking yourself as you sunk into your pussy little by little. Once past the outer folds, you circled your hard clit on top. Small shocks of pleasure came each time you ran over the center, pushing underneath and back to the hood. In the dimness of the carriage, both of them could see your pussy growing wetter. San tweaking your nipples at the same time added more coal to the fire. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t speed up. You kept the same gradual pace, even spreading your pussy open for them to see your hardening clitoris and empty hole.

“Let me have a little lick,” Hongjoong said, his high voice strangely low as he leaned forward. You trembled at the few swats of his tongue, keeping it open with both hands for him. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned, idly moving the tip of his tongue over your clit. “I can eat this forever.”

“Move over,” scolded Seonghwa, pulling Hongjoong away. “I want a taste too.”

Using the flat of his tongue, Seonghwa shook his head to brush over your clit. Then, he took it in his mouth to suck the juices leaking from you. You whined when he withdrew, but San’s fingers fixed that soon enough. He took your clit between index and ring finger and stroked it. You grinded into his hand when you felt his middle finger dip towards your entrance each time, wanting to be filled with it. Your hands gripped the ends of his jacket behind you, trying to keep still as he rubbed your pussy side to side in light, rapid brushes. When he pulled away, his brothers each took a turn doing the same. The brief pauses in between kept you dangling on the edge. You yelped when Hongjoong started tapping and slapping your aching pussy, occasionally shoving fingers inside before pulling them out to smack it again. The twinges of pain only aroused you further. San and Seonghwa followed suit, also smacking and partially fingering you. When both Seonghwa and Hongjoong pushed a finger inside, San continued spanking your pussy.

“It’s been a while since we’ve fucked her together,” said Hongjoong, watching your reactions to his fingers curling alongside his brother’s. “That’s why she’s not wearing panties.” He pushed right to that squishy, soft spot that drove you wild, “You wanted to fuck us in that garden, didn’t you? You were hoping we’d all take a turn in your slutty cunt?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I love it when you all fuck me at the same time. It feels so good. I love getting treated like your fuck toy.”

“Then that’s what our little lady will get,” Seonghwa smirked, pushing his fingers faster. “Good thing I told Mingi to take the long way home.”

San rested you on the seat again, lifting one leg over his shoulder to keep you displayed for the others. Anticipation bubbled in your stomach, lowering the further you saw San move. Holding onto the end, San slowly slid the tip up and down the slit to only bring on more torture for you. Nails embedding themselves into the smooth fabric, you grinded to it in hopes of getting him inside you. 

“You're so needy,” he growled, smirking down at you before finally pushing the tip. “My pretty Darling always gets so wet,” he withdrew just to rub until a slick sound came out, “You hear that?” he asked, tapping your clit, “That's how wet you are. I love getting you like this,” he breathed finally putting the head inside again, “I love seeing my girl desperately wriggling around to get my dick.” 

“She's so cute when she does it,” said Hongjoong. “It's even cuter when she's tied up with no way to get what she wants.”

“I like it when she pretends she's a virgin,” Seonghwa said in a raspy voice. “When she gets on her back,” he started stroking faster, “And tells me she's never done it. It's so cute.”

“Corruption kink to the max,” Hongjokng chuckled. 

“Do you like it when we do this?” San asked you, languidly rocking his hips to yours. “Do you like us treating you like a little cock sleeve?”

“Yes,” you gasped, holding onto his shoulders. The slight stretch made you see stars. “Yes, I do. Just like when we did it the first time,” you said, head sinking to the pillow behind you as he rolled his rips. “When you all fucked me as long as you wanted…”

“You want us to do that again, Kitten?” asked Seonghwa. 

“Please…” A whimper came through when San shoved himself particularly deep, holding onto his forearm as he did it. 

“How's her hole today?” asked Hongjoong, eyes heavy with lust and arousal. 

“Tight,” San said, starting to go faster, “And warm. I could fuck this forever.”

“Look how easy she takes it,” Seonghwa moaned. “Even after all this time, her holes are perfect.”

“You mean ‘our holes’,” Hongjoong said. “Because this,” he knelt beside you, still stroking with one hand while shoving fingers into your mouth, “And that belongs to us. I don't care if you don't wear a collar anymore. We still own your slutty holes,” he groaned when you sucked his fingers, letting him push them further. 

“That's right,” Seonghwa said, reaching over to your swollen clit. “This pussy is ours. We get to fuck it whenever we want.”

“Not like she says no,” San said, grunting as he kept his strokes hard and deep. “She loves dick too much to not pass it up. Look at her right now,” he made a few quick pumps to hear you moan around Hongjoong’s fingers. “She pratically begged me to fuck her.”

“Because she's a whore,” said Seonghwa. He gave your clit a few sharp smacks before rubbing it again, “You can take the whore out of the brothel, but you can't take the brothel out of the whore. Isn't that right, Kitten? Are you a filthy whore?”

“Mmhmph,” you nodded. 

They all laughed, jeering at your answer. When your moans grew louder, they taunted you further. The moment you clenched around San, he moved faster straight into the knot driving you wild. 

“Oh, she's gonna cum,” he announced, “I can feel that hole getting tighter.”

“Is that true, slut?” Hongjoong asked you, removing his fingers to slather around your lips. “Are you going to cum?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, yes!” 

“Then go ahead,” he said.

“Go on,” gibed Seonghwa, spitting on your sex, “Cum.”

They continued goding you until you finally came. Hard hitting, all the muscles in your body stiffened. San came right after, pumping into you wildly as his orgasm took over. The feeling of his squirting inside prolonged your climax. The hands and cock keeping you going played with the sensitivity causing you to move away. 

“No, no, no,” said Seonghwa, “You're gonna take that no matter how sensitive it gets.” 

“That’s right,” said San, teasing you with his wet tip, “You stay there.”

“Rock, paper, scissors for next turn?” Hongjoong suggested to Seonghwa once San finished. 

“Sure. Best two out of three.”

You watched through heavy eyes as they played the game. San, meanwhile, continued pushing his cum back into you. You could do this forever in this carriage. 

“Yes!” Hongjoong cheered when he won the third round. “Turn her around. I'm going to fuck her like the bitch she is, he said, fixing his pants at his thighs as San and him switched positions. Seonghwa and San flipped you over, giving the eldest a space in front of you. 

“Whores always like having more than one cock at a time,” he said, forcing your head into his lap. His length went all the way to the back of your throat, and you swore you might come again even sooner. “Don’t you dare stop sucking,” he warned, slapping your ass harshly. “Don't miss a fucking beat. I want that mouth on me the entire time. You got that, bitch?”

You nodded, and your obedience amused them. He held onto your hair while Hongjoong shoved himself inside. All the pent up arousal from earlier unleashed itself in his hips. Hands grabbing your ass, Hongjoong did not take the gradual pace like San. You felt every push from entry to end just like Seonghwa did. The feeling of them both abusing you had you shaking in their grasp. No matter how much saliva and precum leaked from your mouth, you did not withdraw. Even when Hongjoong started hitting a different angle, making you shudder and moan around him, you didn't stop. Your pussy tightened when Seonghwa held your head against his groin for several seconds, laughing at your choking, before lifting you to the head where you drew a few breaths. 

“You fucking love that,” Seonghwa groaned, pushing you back down. “I'm glad because I like shoving my dick down pretty throats like yours.”

“And I love fucking their pussies right after,” Hongjoong breathed, a whimper coming right after. “Oh fuck, I'm going to fucking cum. Stay right there.”

You came right as he withdrew, bursting with nothing inside you to coat. Hot streams fell onto your lower back and ass cheeks, leaking down between them where Hongjoong rolled it again. Neither brother gave you time to breathe as Seonghwa pulled you onto his lap.

“Fuck me,” he ordered, smacking your ass, “I'm not pushing into you. You're doing the work, not me.”

You held onto the back of the seat, pulling at the decorative drapes, as you started bouncing on him. “Don't stop,” he said, watching you ride him, “If you stop, I swear…”

Even with the burning sensation in your thighs, causing you to shake and tremble, you didn't stop. Whenever he sensed you slowing down, he'd slap your ass to keep you going. But, the strain began weighing you down. You tried pushing yourself by your legs instead, though this position made that hard to do. Eventually, you made the mistake of stopping to catch your breath and ease your aching thighs. 

“Did I say you could stop?” asked Seonghwa harshly. “Huh?” a light tap to your face excites you, “Why did you stop?”

“It….It hurts.”

“Do I look like I care?” he grunted, smacking your ass even harder, sending more pleasure through your body. “Do I?”

“No, sir,” you whimpered. 

“I have to do everything around here,” he lifted you up to put you on your back again. “What's the point in a whore if she doesn't fuck the way I like?”

Raising your legs over your head, Seonghwa dove right back into you. He wasn't the gentle dominant partner you were used to. Something primal came over him as he pounded you into the seat. It delighted and aroused you. 

“Master,” you said, surprised by his roughness, “You're being so rough with me.”

“You're a whore,” he gritted, “Why should I care about being gentle?” Yet, for the briefest moment he stopped, “Am I going too hard? I'm not hurting you too much?”

“I love it,” you assured him, pushing hair from his face, “So much.”

“Of course, you do.”

He kept the same speed until he had you squirting around him. Seeing the squirt come out of you caused Seonghwa’s own orgasm. He withdrew the second he reached the edge, and began jerking himself over you. He pinched your nose to force your mouth open, and made you take the cum shooting from his tip. His load splattered your chin and mouth, droplets falling on your outstretched tongue until he finished completely. 

“How was that?” he asked, fingers pushing hair away from your face.

“So good,” you smiled, cleaning the dick with your tongue. “I can't get enough.”

“You can have more when we get home, baby,” Hongjoong insisted, wiping cum from your chin to slide into your mouth. “As much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said, kissing you softly. “We'll even do it in my room so we can play with all your favorite toys too.”

“I personally love watching you cum all over toys,” said San. “That way you're already nice and wet when I fuck you.”

“I just like watching you cry when I overstimulate you,” shrugged Hongjoong. 

You all laughed right as the carriage stopped right in front of the house. You knew you wouldn't be sleeping tonight and you didn't mind at all. 

***

A/N: awww see? everything worked out in the end. I'm not sure when I'll be posting another one of these, but I will be posting for this one still lol Thanks so much for reading, and please don't forget to reblog and like <3

[luvlunajpg]

Caught ♡

♥︎ Pairing: Johnnie x fem reader

♥︎ Summary: Jake accidentally walked in on you and Johnnie doing the dirty while he was streaming

♥︎ Classification: slight fluff and smut

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ ༘˚⋆ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

It was 9pm you just got off your computer after a long day of streaming. You stretched your arms and cracked every knuckle to refresh yourself from the amount of cramps that was ignored during the stream. You decided to check on your boyfriend johnnie which was also streaming in his own office. You lightly opened his door to see him streaming while answering fan questions. he noticed you peeking through the door and gave you a quick wave before turning back to the computer.

“Sorry guys Y/N is spying on me right now. What a creep, wanna say hi?”

johnnie asked while waving at you to come over. You smiled and walked over to the camera to wave at his viewers.

“Hi guysss! How are you guys doing today? I just ended my stream a minute ago muah muah muah”

Johnnie giggled at the sight of his girlfriend blowing kisses at the camera. He rests his hand on your waist and rubbed his thumb over your hip bone causing you to have goosebumps.

“Alright babe this is my stream, yours ended a minute ago. Byeee”

Johnnie laughs as he lightly pushes you away from the camera. You rolled your eyes playfully and wave one last time to the camera before heading out. Before you head to your room, you saw Jake eating a box of Crumbl Cookies while streaming as well. At this point this has been something that is normal for you. you’ll often see the lights and cameras being set up around the house as if you’re a movie star but in reality, you’re just living with jake and johnnie. They need to make content and entertain their fans, you do the same thing as well nothing abnormal about this. You took a sip of cold water and waved at jake’s camera before jogging back to your room.

You took off your makeup, washed your face and slipped into the matching black lingerie set that johnnie bought for you on your birthday. You knew it was expensive so you just wore it to bed when you feel like it just to make his moneys worth. As you were scrolling through instagram you heard your door opened slowly. You looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend johnnie walking in with the most exhausted face you’ve ever seen. You giggled at the sight of your tired boyfriend and pat on the empty space on your bed beside you. He groaned and flopped on that empty spot, letting him sink onto your soft velvet sheets. You played with his hair for a few minutes which caused him to lift his head up and whimper.

“mmmm babe~ you know i love it when you wear that black set. It looks so good on you” Johnnie whines as he sits up

“Oh really? I never noticed” you joked as you notice a bulge starting to form under johnnies jeans

Johnnie rolled his eyes and crashes his lips onto yours. Both of you started to make out and strip johnnie’s clothes one by one, leaving him with only his boxers on. You climbed onto his lap and gently rest your ass on his bulge causing him to groan. Johnnie leaves a trail of kisses from your lips all the way to your cleavage, leaving hickeys on your chest. You moan at the feeling of your chest being sucked and licked, you grind yourself against Johnnie’s bulge causing him to let out a moan.

“Y/N i want to fuck you so bad” johnnie moaned as he removes your lingerie and his boxers.

“Gosh they’re so perfect Y/N” johnnie sighs at the sight of your pierced nipples and perky breast infront of him. He place one of your boobs in his mouth causing you to moan and throw your head back. He swirls his tongue around your nipples as your hand gets lost in his hair. Both of you were grinding on eachother while Johnnie is leaving hickeys on your boobs. And suddenly the door slammed wide open

“OMG JOHNNIE YOU NEED TO— OH MY FUCK! SHIT! FUCK AHHH MY EYES OMG!!” Jake yells as he covers his eyes and drops the box of cookies on the floor

I jumped off johnnie and hid under the blankets as Johnnie covers himself as well

“WHAT THE FUCK DUDE ARENT YOU STREAMING?? GET OUT!!” Johnnie yells back at jake

“I AM STREAMING! I WAS LOOKING FOR YOU CAUSE I WANT YOU TO TRY THIS FLAVOUR OUT AND I KNOW YOU WOULD LOVE IT CAUSE-“

“JUST GET OUT!! JAKE!!!” Jake gets cut off by you and johnnie yelling at him. Jake apologises a countless of times as he attempts to leave the room with his eyes closed. After he finally leaves the room, johnnie locks the door behind him and nervously chuckle while scratching the back of his head. Your face was now as red as your velvet sheets and you still could not process how jake just walked in on you and Johnnie. Johnnie climbs back on the bed and giggled at your red face, giving your cheek a peck

“Now.. where were we?” Johnnie smirks while rubbing his thumb over your nipple piercing.

———————————————————————————

A/N:

hi you guys! I hope you guys enjoyed it ;-;, this is my first time writing smut or even fanfic in general so pls be nice hehe. Anyways! I’ll try and write more fanfic in the future. So far i am only comfortable in writing fluff and smut so feel free to give me any ideas on what i should write next. And yeah…

I LOVE YOU GUYS 🩷🖤

[bluerosefox]

Ghost Marriage Allows More Than One!

Tim wakes up in a hotel room in Vegas snuggled against a chest but he wasn't surprised.

He had been in the Sin City for a WE meeting and had brought Bernard along the trip since Tim's birthday was just shy a few days into it and well he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend since most of his family were off world (Dick, Jason, and Bruce all had important missions and they all apologized for missing out and Tim couldn't blame them he understood and he himself couldn't get out of the Vegas meetings no matter what he tried to do.) Or couldn't come to join him (Damian had school as did Duke and Alfred was taking care of them while the others were gone. Steph and Cass were out of country working with some important things with Babs and again he understood.) (Did it still sting yes but they all promised to make it up when they got back, Alfred even promised a coffee cake just for him)

So yeah, Vegas meeting trip turned somewhat birthday fun with his boyfriend. And since Bernard has always been good with encouraging Tim to try things it came to no surprise that during their stay he had managed to convince Tim to try drinking for the night.

Yes terrible influence Bernard was sometimes, but he did make a point. Tim was an adult now and sometimes it's okay to at least try adult dumb stuff, he didn't have to like it and could stop if he really didnt want to but he can at least say he tried it once. That it was okay for Tim to let go of his vigilante brain and just have fun in the one city that was made for it.

So try Tim did. Just for the night.

So yeah, Tim wasn't really surprised when he woke up the next morning, alcohol aftertaste on his breath, head pounding, nose scrunched up from the light of the sun peeking in from the curtains, and snuggling himself into a rather chilly chest...

Wait...

Chilly?

Tim opened his eyes when he realized that. Bernard never felt cold to Tim when they would snuggle, no he was always warm, like a warm heating blanket. It was why Tim loved snuggling him. Why was he-

Tim's eyes widened when he saw not blonde hair on the body in the bed with him but black hair. He almost flung himself off the bed from him startling awake and watched the one he had been snuggled next to mumble in his sleep and turn over.

Tim felt pure dread as he continued to stare, his stomach turning as his thoughts got bad, oh god..God... did he... oh no, no, no no. Oh where was Bernard- FUCK did he really-

Tim flinched when he heard a door open and snapped his eyes towards it. He felt his mouth go dry when he spotted his boyfriend coming out of what was the bathroom of the room and had just finished taking a shower from the sounds of left over dripping water and from the towel he was using to clean his hair.

Bernard stopped in his spot when he noticed Tim staring at him before he gave Tim a very uneasy chuckle, his eyes darting towards the sleeping body on the bed "H-Hey, good morning T. I see you... uhh seen our guest."

Tim felt ready to cry, to beg for forgiveness, but the only sound that came out was a strangled sound because of course he fucked up and ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him and-

But before he could spiral further into his anxiety and dread Bernard kept speaking.

"So ummm. Do you also remember meeting Danny at the bar, getting really tipsy, hanging out, having fun and then like going to a ghost bar with him so he could really drunk because he's like half ghost. And I mean like a legit ghost bar, like we saw Elvis and Marilyn Monroe there and they were like floating. Then we all got like super mega drunk and then... maybe kinda sorta got ghost married... because ghost marriage allows unlimited spouses cause you know, already dead doesn't matter and it's also almost permanent cause again the whole dead thing... Or did I hallucinate all that last night and we just brought in a random stranger to bed?" He asked his voice unsure as he looked between Tim and the stranger Danny in bed before lifting his hand up and showing Tim a glowing ring on it. "I'm pretty sure I didn't dream it up because I kinda woke up with this, and it refuses to come off."

Tim went silent for a moment, wide eyed as he stared back at Bernard before the pounding headache he had hit him harder than ever when the very memories of everything Bernard had said came flooding back to him. With a gasp Tim quickly looked st his own hand and sure enough on his finger was a matching glowing wedding band on it, his eyes snapped towards Danny... Danny Nightingale? Or was it Phantom? said his name was and spotted another matching one as well.

"B is going to kill us." Was the only thing Tim could muster up to say.