#everyone better read this [threat] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enha-stars · 6 months ago

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me before reading: oh, man. here we go. i'm almost eight months late but i had to work up the courage to read this. let's gaur (i'm paralyzed)

me after reading: my dna has been altered. the very structure has been modified. my hair is thicker, eyes shinier. my soul has been cleansed. good lord, it's over.

WHERE THE FUCK DO I EVEN BEGIN WITH THIS AKJSALBDHKDLA FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFF IM SICK.

the beginning was actually quite literally insane. explaining jong's lore; his family history and parental relationships was done so well, so beautifully, it felt like i was reading the beginning of a novel.

THE UNIVERSITY BIT?? YOU'RE 🫵🏽 DONE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN???? what do you mean he built such strong bonds with hoon and jaeyun? random road trips??? LOOS OF GENUINE CARE AND AFFECTION??? SOMEONE FUCKING SEDATE ME RIGHT NOW

i can't breathe. what is this. stella, be quiet. don't talk to me. you're texting me rn and i am having a mental break down good bye.

making jong have daddy issues and a beautiful relationship with his mother-- you want me dead. confirmed. everyone! listen here!! stella wants enha-stars dead!!!

jong is such a hard worker i can't. ceo jay forever, actually.

he wanted his father to see the man he grew to be 😃 k guess i'll be sad forever idk (W mother)

Jongseong’s mother sacrificed years of her work to raise him to the best of her ability while his dad was working day and night to hopefully see his company see the light of success, during those years his mother was the first and only person to know and acknowledge jongseong’s passion for fashion designing.

k. like. why would you do this to me shawty

JONG AS A FASHION DESIGNER??? LET ME GIVE YOUR KISS A BRAIN PLEASE HOW DO YOU COME UP WITH THESE IDEAS AKHDKDAFB ending it all.

assigning jake as the head.... yeah, he ATE. hoon as the assistant is so fucking funny like i know they beef so hard please. i love the way men love.

jong being in love at first sight is so real and valid and i am so delusional i need to be sedated. i need him so bad 😭

i actually can't talk about jongseong being in love. stella, i don't know what kind of drug you put into this writing, but the way i was gripping my sheets, at the brink of tears because he's such a lover boy.... googly moogly, man. it's over.

jong designing things for his girl....... chelsea call an ambulance, bruv.

something about a healthily possessive man will always do it for me. wdym he kissed my temple? TO SHOW FUCK ASS YEONJUN???? thank you, good God.

blow job at the back of the car? sign me up!

“come on angel girl, touch me"

this sent me. this had me throwing up, reeling over in lust. legs shook. hands froze. eyes widened. what do you mean. angel girl.... what if i was insane. TOUCH ME?????????? i need to go pray idk

jongseong opened his eyes to a sight that will knock his breath out of his lungs, if only you knew you heavenly you looked with your eyes teary, cheeks flushed red and your lips swollen, coated with a sheen layer of his cum as you looked up at him with your twinkling gaze

bro is so in love i have to die. WHAT DO YOU MEAN KNOCKED HIS BREATH OUT OF HIS LUNGS??????????? BRO IS A SIMP?? (my type fr) gosh, we're so beautiful (bedsheets were changed. i had to take a walk. played basketball with my brother for a minute)

the entire scene with jong watching the runway show on his phone... i giggled. i had to punch a wall. it was so funny bro, wdym hoon is fighting the employee and jongseong is giggling and blushing because of his girl???

LOSERRRRR 🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽 i need him so bad

Jongseong felt heat spread all over his body, heart thundering against his ribs as he attempted to suppress a wide smile from spreading across his blushing face

i have to fuck bro silly. what is this. HOW IS HE SO CUTE?? SO ADORABLE??

Jongseong was never a religious man. Yet he desperately attempted to understand why the deities above struggled and refused to give him someone whom he could cherish and love, he swore he had enough love to give.

ENOUGH. i feel like someone has taken my heart out of my chest and twisted it, then continued to stomp on it. never a religious man... i love religious imagery so much this has me fucked up. i know he has the biggest heart and my gosh am i glad he gets to love someone immensely. ALSO??? HE SWORE HE HAD ENOUGH LOVE TO GIVE???? IM GONNA KILL MYSELF IN YOUR BEDROOM WHAT

love at first sight 😵‍💫 big bad ceo blushing 😵‍💫 i can't. jong giggling. i need to hit something. i feel so overwhelmed right now. stella, trust, you WILL pay for this.

jonseong being grumpy because he hasn't seen his lover in so long is so real and true and valid and i need my man like this. how can i have ceo lover boy jongseong.

“Baby, i need you to sit on my face right now.” he spoke against your neck

i did NAWT survive this bit. jongseong x face sitting.... bye. just, bye. i need to change my panties bro what the fuck. HE IS SO IN LOVE? certified munch and i love it. this entire scene was written so beautifully, stel. you should be so proud. the way i could see everything, FEEL everything. i'm taking melatonin tonight so i can live this exact scene.

GULP. GULP, loudly. DIES. desperate, loser, in love jay.... WHIMPERING??? YOU KNOW IM A SLUT FOR WHIMPERING MEN GOOD BYEEEEE THIS IS FOR MEEEEE

"angel girl" killing myself.

HE CUMMED IN HIS PANTS LIKE A LOSER? i need him so bad. please. ceo by day, desperate pussy drencher by night.

i actually feel so emotional right now. the way you write their relationship.... jongseong is so in love and he cares so deeply and she's so in love and finds comfort in him i am GONE.

the whole red carpet scene.... the individual jealousy and the love and care. i need to give your mind a kiss. please. it'll be tender, i promise.

y/n winning, hell yeah.

“And I would love to thank my beloved husband, park jongseong—“ and just like that his ears began ringing again, his surroundings suddenly slowing down once more.

SHES SO ME, BYE. I TOO WOULD CALL HIS MAN MY HUSBAND. TO CLAIM HIM IN FRONT OF EVERYONEEEE YUPPPP. i know his heart dropped to his anus. they're so in love. the 'congrats wifey" yup i died

the whole ending scene..... what more do you want from me, shawty.

Yet none of these photos could amount the beauty that he saw whenever you were under him, the beauty that he knew he caused. With your flushed face gazing at him so prettily, begging him and needing him to do anything. Not one single photographer can catch the expression of pure love and lust that he got to saw beneath him every single night, you looked mesmerising.

okay. enough. you've shot me and now you're dragging my corpose around. oh to be loved by jongseong.

But gosh the sight of your back arching beautifully in front of him, your head throwing back revealing your heaving chest clad in a flimsy lingerie with broken moans of his name along with a glistening sheen layer of sweat casting on your body enticingly, made you look absolutely divine in his eyes.

deadass, i feel warm all over. cheeks flushed, drool everywhere.

The urge to thank the deities above for allowing your paths to cross at that current moment was difficult to ignore, you didn’t notice the quiet gasp leaving his mouth at the sight of you, unaware of the way the mere view of you bathing in complete pleasure and delight unlocked something carnal, something animalistic in him that pushed him in a frenzy of thrill and bliss.

THE PARALLELS???? HIS GASP AT THE SIGHT OF YOU???????

“Did I fuck you dumb, doll? It’s okay you know I’ll take care of you, angel. I’ve got you, hm?”

just stab me through the eye. DOLL???? ILL TAKE CARE OF YOU???? IVE GOT YOU???? the constant "i got you" has me reeling. i need a man like this. actually, this IS my man. (not delulu at all)

THE VELVET BOX???? THE RING????? i need to lay down.

PARK JONGSEONG — TOUCH ME, FEEL ME.

— “come here and put it on my face, it’s like you know how good you taste.”

PAIRING: ceo!jay x model fem!reader (+17)

FEATURING… heeseung, jaeyun, sunghoon & sunoo (enhypen), ningning (aespa), yeonjun (txt), nicholas (&team).

WARNINGS: my third attempt at slight fluff, reader obv works in the modelling industry, making out, unprotected sex, oral (f & m), lots of kissing and make out sessions, usage of toys, jay is in love (sickeningly), soft dom jay !! dumbification, overstimulation (I can’t remember anymore pls tell me if I missed any)

WORD COUNT. 15.6k (HUH)

SYNOPSIS: a sneak peak into the life of Seoul’s most popular CEO along with the top model of the country.

៹ — A,NOTE. this is unfortunately NOT PROOFREAD / EDITED entirely, some sections are while some aren’t so pls pls ignore all grammatical errors / typos made as im finishing this off at 6 am without sleep and will be fixing it up tmrw <3 (pls pls read a,note 2 at the end !!)

— this one’s directed to my dearest hana for being there at 4 am to simp over jay (& hee but shhh) together + all my tall engenes bcs i hear u, i see u and i feel u baby. (and all my jay girlies too)

Park jongseong is a very busy man.

Presenting himself as a busy, workaholic and paperwork obsessed man was considered the norm in his building. The unhealthy attachment jongseong had to his office— specifically to his desk was one that raised eyebrows at South Korea’s most popular Chief Executive Officer.

The Park Corp. that his father generously built a stable foundation for back when he was still a young adult navigating his way through the business industry was now passed down to his trusted son in hopes of extending their empire all over the continent.

Hence the reason as to why the phrase “Park Jongseong was destined for success” rang throughout the young ceo’s ears within every vicinity his feet graced, yet jongseong couldn’t completely wrap his head around his ‘success’

In his younger years, he believed the life of luxury and success that he lived was considered normal. That was until he pursued a degree outside of his birth country and had to settle in a small apartment— taking care of his own self without the help of any maids that he had grown accustomed to back at home.

Jongseong could still remember his father’s constant pestering to change his mind, his father could’ve bought him the university he was studying at yet jongseong insisted on an average, one bedroom apartment in a semi-safe neighbourhood for his education by using the excuse of building up his experience.

Easily, his university years became his favourite. He was allowed his first taste of the average life, the normal one. where he was given the privilege to form friendships and bonds with people whom didn’t beg for his attention while staring directly into his pockets. The first taste of his own cooked meals when he got severely sick after a random takeout from a sketchy restaurant.

His first ever friend group flourished in front of his eyes without disappearing after a few months. His two bestfriends— Park Sunghoon along with Sim Jaeyun effortlessly altered his whole point of view on life, with unexpected rendezvous to grocery stores past midnight, random road trips after finishing their mind numbing exams, unexpected deep conversations about life that took place on the floor of jongseong’s apartment and the look of genuine care and affection in sunghoon and jaeyun’s eyes, jongseong felt normalcy.

He felt protected, he felt loved. Sure he was born to very caring parents, yet at his young age, he easily was able to tell the importance of work to his father when he would randomly disappear for weeks without any warning— leading jongseong to call him usually on the fourth day of his absence to ask when he was intending on returning.

“I can’t return yet son, our next meeting with The Kim’s company is scheduled in a week.” Or some other company meeting that was considered more important than jongseong’s own need of his presence in his life by miles.

He understood his father’s side perfectly now that he was placed in his exact position, the importance of work, meetings and the worry of the small voice in the back of his head grumbling about the possibility of failure and losing decades worth of his, his father’s and his grandfather’s hard work.

Yet with the headache that was splitting his head into two separate halves the longer he stared at his papers— the sight of the letters turning into gibberish along with his wrist’s automatic turn to land his signature on the papers, he couldn’t help but think ‘was it that hard?’ surely his father could have returned back for a few hours to watch his son shape himself into the man he grew to be— to comfort him during the days where he would have difficulty at school or problems with his friend, to see him accept his diploma.

Well, his father couldn’t. While his mother on the other hand decided to surprise her son after claiming that she had to join his father on a business trip when she stood up in the middle of the crowd to clap proudly when he went atop the stage, resulting in a bewildered and shocked jongseong to shake hands with his principal who was aggressively slapping his back while jongseong was staring in disbelief into his mother’s tear filled eyes with his own misty ones.

It was safe to say that jongseong had always had a healthier relationship with his mother than his father, it was thanks to her brilliant idea to open up the first branch dedicated to fashion under The Park Corp. that jongseong’s entire life changed.

The memory of his mother praising a doodle of a dress that he had made when his age was still in singular digits was imprinted in his mind, from her approval of the colour he chose to pointing out almost unnoticeable mistakes with certain parts of the ruffles along the shoulders— his mother shaped his fashion designing skills as he improved tremendously, a fire lighting up in his heart for designing pure art.

Though this new branch under his company meant more excessive work, more sleepless nights and less breaks. Jongseong made the decision to pull one of his joker cards that he was blessed with— Sim Jaeyun.

Assigning Jaeyun as the head of the branch was undoubtedly one of the best decisions he had made, the sight of jaeyun’s shocked eyes gazing at his own serious ones as he proposed the idea to his best friend was one that he will always remember vividly,

“Are you serious?” Jaeyun breathed out, his stare so intense on jongseong’s as he tried to unravel every and each layer of his expression in search of one tinge that would confirm his suspicions of this whole proposal being an entire joke, yet he spotted none.

when the burst of laughter from jongseong never arrived, fully leaving no room for jokes while the unexpected silence from Jaeyun was beginning to concern jongseong— Jaeyun threw himself into jongseong’s arms in complete relief and appreciation.

And at jaeyun’s shaky whisper of “Thank you so much.” Into his ear, jongseong knew he made a great decision.

His love for this decision only increased day by day as his assistant was now showing him photos of the newly casted models that jaeyun had signed, some models had already contacted the agency while others were radio silent, jongseong was paying attention to every word coming out of his assistant’s mouth till his finger swiped to a picture of a girl outside of a cafe,

“Who’s this?” Jongseong questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in focus at the back profile of the woman who was facing away from the camera, “Her name is y/n, she’s yet to contact us back—“ “where did you see her?” Jongseong cut him off,

His assistant, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as jongseong never questioned the locations he was casting his models from— hell he barely even had time to know about jaeyun casting models let alone who they are, and now he’s suddenly asking where you’re from?

“The newly opened cafe, I don’t have her email yet— “ “then find it and sent it to me.” Jongseong interrupted once again resulting in sunghoon glaring at him for cutting him off, he huffed once he noticed jongseong was reaching for his phone, clearly displaying to sunghoon his annoyance.

“Why are you suddenly inter—“ “your break’s over.” Sunghoon had to bite his tongue from saying anything back to his best friend whom he sometimes forgot was also his boss as he closed the door to jongseong’s office behind him after he walked out.

And that was the day that jongseong’s life took another shift into a positive direction, the day where he decided to increase sunghoon’s paycheck for street casting you, for spotting you and bringing you into his life.

Here was jongseong now, approximately two years after establishing one of the most successful modelling agencies in the continent under jaeyun’s control, sitting in his office chair eating the lunch you had prepared for him as your schedule was empty this morning.

“When’s your next shoot, my love?” Jongseong spoke after swallowing, lifting his head to allow the sight of you sitting giddily on his boring leather couch to grace his eyes, you were always glowing in his office, casting a beautiful ray of light to the dull and lifeless space of his.

Especially now that you were wearing one of his own designs, a cute skirt paired with a cropped blazer, your hair styled prettily as you sat and fiddled with your fingers in excitement, “it’s at seven, are you going to visit me then?” You asked.

Even if you had attempted to hide your expectant tone of seeing him at your photoshoot and supporting you from behind the camera, jongseong easily detected it, he studied and observed everything about you.

“Of course I will, angel.” He replied, hands busy with reaching for a tissue as he finished his food, his eyes instantly falling back onto his paperwork before trailing back on you, “what time is it now?” You quickly checked your wrist watch “it’s two thirty,” he hummed at your response, “we should get going then.” He spoke out.

“But your meeting—“ “I’ll tell sunghoon to clear my schedule today, angel.” He ended before standing up, his figure tall in front of the sunlight in his office, he quickly reached behind for his blazer, the sunlight illuminating all of his veins and muscles as they flexed according to his movements, you totally weren’t distracted.

Once he coolly threw his jacket atop his shoulders, he walked towards you on the couch, “isn’t it too early? I mean we still have around four hours.” He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge as he looked downwards to meet your eyes, “I know, can’t I spend some time with my girlfriend before her photoshoot?” He smiled before reaching to take your hand.

You both step out of his office, your heels echoing throughout the halls of the floor while jongseong wrapped a protective arm around your waist guiding you towards the elevator.

You didn’t notice, but the sound of your heels had attracted some looks from jongseong’s workers, specifically from the newly hired employee that was on his first week of work, in jongseong’s peripheral vision he saw the movement of the new guy, very obviously swivelling his chair to get a good look while his coworker snickered at his gawking eyes, jongseong instantly recognised the agitating laughter— fucking yeonjun.

His laughter was instantly silenced when jongseong turned his head, he heard the screeching sounds of multiple chairs returning hastily to their original positions before he even fully turned, and with one sharp glare in yeonjun and the new employee’s direction, jongseong made a note to transfer both of them to a different department, as it wasn’t the first time yeonjun eyed his woman.

And he for sure wasn’t about to have another yeonjun around his office.

With a quick text to sunghoon, jongseong reached towards the wall next to the elevator, pressing the button before he returned his arm around your body, purposefully lowering his hand to your hip as he pulled you closer, “jong, your employees will see..” you whispered, aware of the fact that jongseong wasn’t the most comfortable when it came to publicly showing you affection. “Let them see.” He whispered back, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Jongseong relished in the quiet gasps behind him along with the slight blush dusting your cheeks before the elevator dinged and he quickly pulled you inside with him.

He kept his arm secured around you till you reached the ground floor of his building, his hand then dropped to interlock with yours as both of you stepped outside of the gates, jongseong reached his other hand inside of his pocket once he neared his car, pulling out the keys to hand over to his bodyguard before he opened the back seat door for you.

It wasn’t common for jongseong to not drive his car, mainly handing over his keys on days where he felt exhausted or had begrudgingly drunk alcohol, yet before you could question his reasoning for today, he leaned forward towards your ear as you were entering the car, “I’ve missed you so bad, angel.” He whispered.

His low tone sent shivers done your spine, suddenly his touch felt like fire when his fingertips brushed against your skirt as you were sitting down, he quickly walked to the other side of the car before he sat down atop the leather seats next to you,

“Where to, sir?” His guard, Nicholas asked whilst he had his eyes glued on the road, “Home, and roll up the partition” his hands were itching to reach out and to touch you, to hold you as his black pants had started to feel tighter than usual,

After his reply to Nicholas, Jongseong couldn’t wait any further, his hand reached up to loosen the black tie around his neck, fingers quickly moving to unbutton his shirt slightly, allowing his tan chest to be exposed to the golden sunlight.

The sight of Jongseong brushing his hand through his black locks as he turned his body towards you made your heart thump loudly in your chest, his breathes turning heavy while his arms moved towards you, wrapping around your waist before pulling you closer to him,

His lips found home on the skin of your neck, placing soft and long kisses while goosebumps arose on your skin under his touch, you felt yourself becoming lightheaded once he began to suck gently, leaving behind faint marks of his love on you.

“Jong…” you breathed out heavily, eyelids closed tight as you basked in the feeling of his touch all over you, “shhh, I’ve got you baby.” His kisses trailed upwards, aligning across your jawline as they turned into mouth opened kisses, jay’s hands slipped onto your exposed thighs, gently caressing your skin beneath his fingers while he groaned against your neck,

“Let me please you, Jong. Please,” you whispered in his hold, the desperate tone in your low voice made him feel lightheaded, even if jongseong had different plans of him pleasing you, he didn’t have the heart to decline your sweet offer, not when you were looking at him with your twinkling eyes, eager to please him and to love him.

He nodded his head in approval, not quite trusting his voice after feeling the small lump in his throat when you instantly lowered yourself in whatever empty space that was available in his car, your knees resting against the floor while your hands were running up and down his thighs, caressing his flexing muscles before they moved upwards to wrap around his belt.

Once your hands had discarded his belt, he lifted his hips slightly to aid you with finally freeing his throbbing length that stood tall against his lower stomach, a small and shiny dribble of his precum trailing down from his aching red tip with the veins along his underside becoming more prominent, the sight was enough to make your mouth water.

“There you go, angel.” He breathed out in relief as he would have exploded had he stayed another second inside the infuriating tightening of his pants, “come on angel girl, touch me.” The encouraging tone in his voice made you instantly move, your hand wrapping around his aching member while the other rested against his warm thigh, casting goosebumps along his skin.

Jongseong felt his throat dry up once you blew cold air teasingly on his tip, and before he could process, you quickly wrapped your plump and glossy lips around the head of his length, the warmth of your mouth and your tongue instantly circling around him was enough to have him feel as if he was melting against the leather seats.

“Fuck..” he breathed out, eyes closing shut as the pleasure ran through his veins the further you moved, circling your tongue around his aching length before sucking more of him down your throat, the slight tightening making shivers trail along his body.

He felt slight goosebumps forming all over him once your nails began to softly scratch his thighs before your hands gently caressed his skin, you moved your head up and down, each movement drawing out a longer sigh of his heaving chest, jongseong could feel the familiar tightening in his lower abdomen, his release gradually building up the further your spit trailed down his base and pooled around his inner thighs,

Jongseong’s hands reached towards yours that rested against his thighs, he quickly interlocked his fingers with yours, gently squeezing your hand to indicate the approach of his climax, you hummed around him making his hips jerk forward at the sudden vibration,

He whispered your name in heavy breathes, attempting his best to stay quiet in the moving vehicle, yet it seemed impossible now that you started to push him down further, your nose inching closer to his pelvis once you began to deepthroat his cock, jongseong’s legs began to twitch under your interlocked hands while low moans escaped his throat, ones he desperately tried to suppress.

And with a few movements of your head, jongseong finally allowed the euphoria of his release to wash down his body in waves, one more intense than the other as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, shaky moans of your name rolling off his tongue while his hands tightened around yours, thick ropes of his release shooting down your throat yet you didn’t let go of him yet, aiding him in riding out his high once you began to move up and down again, swallowing what he had to offer while his swollen tip was hitting the back of your throat, pleasantly overstimulating him.

“angel— please.. s-stop..” He stuttered out in shaky breathes, begging you to stop yet his hands still tightened around yours, you moaned lowly at his salty flavour on your tongue once you moved upwards, kissing and suckling on his leaking tip as he coated your tongue and your throat in his taste.

And once his legs and hips began to twitch uncontrollably, you pulled yourself away from him, jongseong opened his eyes to a sight that will knock his breath out of his lungs, if only you knew you heavenly you looked with your eyes teary, cheeks flushed red and your lips swollen, coated with a sheen layer of his cum as you looked up at him with your twinkling gaze, breathing heavily while you gently wiped away at the milky white droplet at the corner of your mouth, bringing it to your tongue.

Jongseong was fighting every voice and urge in his head to not pull you into his lap and make love to you in the backseat of his car, he knew Nicholas was a mere four minutes away from arriving at your house, yet the way your eyes were practically eating him up were making all his rational thoughts disappear from his head one by one,

“You did so well for me, baby.” He praised before pulling you upwards, his hands finding home around your waist as he placed you next to him in the backseat, his lips easily finding your neck to trail his love filled kisses across your skin, “jongseong..” you whispered once your eyes caught the familiar scenery from the window, Nicholas had basically arrived at your house.

Your hands quickly pulled his away from around you, trailing down to help him in wearing his clothes in worry of Nicholas suddenly lowering the partition to announce your arrival, jongseong chuckled as he quickly fixed his belt before gently grabbing onto your neck to pull you closer once again, you placed a feathery kiss on his lips, “we can continue this at home, baby.” And at your words, jongseong nodded with his lovesick eyes glued to your every move.

You also might’ve been a little late to your photoshoot.

Jongseong was yet again, swivelling in his office chair while biting back toothy smiles as a random employee along with sunghoon were discussing the placement of a new coffee machine since the older one stops working every now and then.

Their voices completely distorted for jongseong who kept swiping between photos on his phone, his feet finally planted on the ground to stop the movement of his chair, the back of the large chair hiding away his eyes that were twinkling in amusement from both men in his room.

His fingers stopped as the video of your latest appearance on the runway finally loaded, jongseong fixed his posture, sitting upright while his grip on his phone tightened, he felt his heart racing in the familiar rhythm that only you were able to generate, the tip of his fingers buzzing, his leg shaking up and down in excitement at the sight of you walking down in the video.

The video filmed by one of his designers, showcasing you from a perfect angle, the styling of your hair, the dress that he had sketched himself on one blessed night with you sleeping soundly next to him was now hugging all of your curves perfectly, the same heels he had suggested your stylist Yizhuo now clicking against the runway floor.

Jongseong’s eyes were stuck on you, suddenly all the other models that were walking past you or walking after you were blurred from his sight, he could only see you wrapped up in his designs as you made your way to the front of the runway, your eyes shining with confidence while you glowed in radiance, your aura fierce and sharp.

He took notice of the way most of the guests’ heads followed your body, some too busy talking with whoever was besides them about your appearance while others stared with their mouths slightly open, if only you knew the power and beauty you radiated.

And once you had reached the front, all focus on you with the camera desperately attempting to capture all of your angles, you blew a kiss to the camera along with a quick wink shooting a very quick arrow into your lover’s chest and countless other people before smiling charmingly and turning around.

Jongseong was holding back multiple groans and sighs back as he held his chest, his heart racing rapidly while his face got warmer, he forced himself to continue watching the video, to watch the way you swayed your hips while the dress fluttered around your legs, multiple heads turning to face the direction your were walking back to.

Jongseong felt heat spread all over his body, heart thundering against his ribs as he attempted to suppress a wide smile from spreading across his blushing face, jongseong was now replaying the video, his eyes memorising your every move as you strutted with countless pairs of eyes following your movements.

And at your sweet smile, jongseong remembered the memory of his first meeting with you, he had tagged along with sunghoon who was called by jaeyun for your first photoshoot, the ‘newly casted models’ photoshoot, jaeyun knew he had to get the opinions of both his best friends and his own boss.

Multiple bodies moved throughout the dressing room, the voices of many stylists layering upon eachother as they discussed certain aspects of their models’ look with said model or they ordered their assistants to collect certain items for them,

Various shapes and sounds were echoing in the room from the sound of heels being tested and worn to the clacking sounds of palettes being closed or open, jongseong’s eyes caught sunghoon who was lost in a conversation with one of their main photographers— Heeseung, the tall man was sporting a boyish smile on his face as he joked with sunghoon, a large camera dangling from around his neck below his necklaces.

Jongseong’s head then turned to spot Jaeyun with his assistant sunoo, Jaeyun listing down the props and equipment needed for the shoot while sunoo was jotting down each word in his notebook, nodding along to jaeyun’s focused tone as his eyes travelled all over the set, the first photoshoot always had to be perfect.

Hushed whispers and giggles surrounded jongseong once he finally took notice of the multiple models staring at him, quickly averting their gazes while their hands covered the blushing lower half of their faces, their body language giving them away instantly as one was now playing with her hair while the other returned her gaze to him, sending countless signals of her interest in the young ceo that he paid no mind to.

Jongseong believed that he didn’t have any time for love, with no intentions of finding a lover and starting his own family, especially not when the possibility of him neglecting his own family whether it was intentional or not weighed heavily on his shoulders, he didn’t want to repeat his history.

He believed that as long as his heart remained unclaimed, entertaining himself with a few one night stands and hookups here and there from when his stress would get the best of him or his sexual frustration entirely takes over his body, he was good to go.

Yet jongseong couldn’t really keep lying to himself, he yearned for someone to love and appreciate him, to see and hear him for himself, Park Jongseong, and not ceo Jay Park.

He had given up on such love a long time ago, the hope in his heart ripping apart the longer his dates consisted of questions about his family, his business and his work life. His dates rarely ever asking him about his own interests, how his childhood had been like and what sorts of hobbies he had picked up.

Jongseong’s expectancy for someone to hopefully ask him about his fashion designing career so he could finally talk about his mother’s abilities to shape his skills were quickly dissipating.

Wishing for the day he’ll be able to talk about his hidden talent of music, his rare guitar collection and his countless lyric-filled notebooks with someone who gazed at him with love and interest, with pure curiosity in his hobbies and passions.

And so after countless failed dates filled with short and bitter replies of his work, jongseong fully lost hope, opting to live a single life with an empty space occupying his heart.

Jongseong was never a religious man.

Yet he desperately attempted to understand why the deities above struggled and refused to give him someone whom he could cherish and love, he swore he had enough love to give.

He had finally decided to ‘trust the process’ just as his mother had told him whenever discussions of his concerningly empty love life were brought up during their spontaneous lunches and dinners together, ultimately cutting his random dates spree short and waiting patiently for his person to hopefully walk into his life.. maybe?

And thank god he had decided to trust the process, he thanked all deities above and his mother at the memory of you making your first eye contact with him through the mirror of your table with you sitting, fidgeting nervously with your fingers as your anxiety was eating you up alive, your stylist and makeup artist Yizhuo hovering next to you as she was expertly applying your foundation while attempting to calm your nerves down.

In the middle of answering Yizhuo’s distracting question about your favourite serum— your sight had caught a dark brown pair of eyes, ones that gazed into yours deeply, your heart skipped a beat at the unknown man’s gaze that weirdly managed to calm you down for the first time in the past few hours, quickly studying his perfectly sculpted face, you concluded that maybe he’s another model who’s been casted, not recognising the ceo of your own agency.

Yizhuo had caught on your silence, her eyes quickly darting to your own ones that were stuck on the mirror, following your line of vision, she also made eye contact with jongseong, who quickly averted his gaze as he choked on his own spit in embarrassment.

He quickly covered it up with a cough, Yizhuo however was now looking back at you with her eyes wide. “What is he even doing here?” She whispered in bewilderment, a smile creeping up her lips at the fact that she had caught jongseong— her cold hearted ceo who hadn’t looked in woman’s way in a few years now, staring at you.

“Is he not supposed to be here?” You whispered back, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you looked back at the man, once again catching his gaze, this time you were able to point out the slight, almost unnoticeable redness that coated his ears, was he blushing?

But god he was so beautiful, his sharp eyes were practically drinking you up, his nose bridge high as it became dusted with a pretty rose, way prettier than the multitude blushes you had infront of you on the table and his glossy, pink lips looked so inviting.

“He never comes here..” Yizhuo points out, her focus now shifting to locating her favourite pressed powder— well, before her hand smacked your shoulder, “Why are you two staring at each other again?!” She whisper yelled, paying no mind to your low hiss at the spreading pain around your arm, your eye contact with the godly man was cut short with yizhuo’s continuous whispers of excitement.

“How am I supposed to know! He’s the one that keeps looking back.” You whispered, your voice clearly reflecting your flustered state as it got higher with every word, “Do you think he’s cute?” She asked you, awaiting your answer with a million thoughts rushing through her head, with the main one being ‘was this it?’

“He’s breathtaking, Yizhuo.” You replied, an incredulous expression on your face at her stupid question. Unbeknownst to you, jongseong was still watching the interaction between you and your stylist, he also might have heard your exchanged whisper yells but he couldn’t bring himself to care as his attention was on calming his heart down from bursting.

Jongseong instantly recognised you from your portfolio, your beauty in real life easily captivating him and caging his heart in a way he could have only dreamed of, he made sure to send his mother additional bouquets with the weekly ones he sends her this time, because the moment he saw you quickly flash him a smile when Yizhuo turned around followed by a small, shy wave— he knew he made the right decision with ‘trusting the process.’

“Do you even know the amount of calls jaeyun has redirected to me just this past hour, jongseong?” Sunghoon’s irritated voice brought jongseong back to the present, his lovesick gaze focusing on his phone screen again, the video of you walking down the runway on loop in front of him, showing him a complete contrast from your first nervewrecking photoshoot to now, your first runway.

Words could not fully explain the pride he felt blooming in his chest, he felt so so proud of you for standing with power and manifesting all of your dreams into your reality one by one, having the privilege of listening to all your worries and thoughts about your career, jongseong felt honoured that you trusted him enough to let him see you in your lowest moments, and allowing him to cradle you safely in his arms to comfort you, assuring you that you’ll work out.

Now seeing all of your highest moments made him feel incredibly proud of you.

“And here comes another one.” Sunghoon sighed loudly in hopes of catching his boss’ attention, jongseong cleared his throat before locking his phone, turning his chair back to face sunghoon, he assumed the employee from earlier had taken his leave and left a very upset and irritated sunghoon in his office.

“What calls are you getting redirected from jaeyun?” Jongseong questioned, pushing himself back into his work mindset before he began fangirling in the middle of his office, he could delay his giggles and smiles till he’s back at home because at this current moment he wanted to figure out what exactly had managed his assistant to carry a sour expression on his face.

“Different agencies and brands asking for our models portfolios and other shit— just to somehow secure a contract with them,” he sighed in frustration while declining another unknown number before rubbing his hands all over his face as he felt a slight headache forming, “half of Korea’s agencies have called since the show ended, almost all of them asking for one specific model’s contact information.” He continued, jongseong’s eyes raised at the sudden popularity of a model under his agency,

Sunghoon was never one to exaggerate his words, nor would he get this frustrated and annoyed over phone calls, opting for an indifferent expression and cool tone when dealing with his work, it was difficult to throw him off his balance, whatever model was causing this chaos in jongseong’s agency by now had him sitting on the edge of his seat.

Jongseong thought of all the possible models who had gained immense popularity today due to it being his agency’s first runway show presented by Jaeyun along with his top designer and stylist Yizhuo— both very famous and impactful names in the fashion industry.

Could it be?—

“And as expected, it had to be y/n.” Jongseong had never felt his eyes snap open so widely, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at sunghoon who was standing right in front of his desk with his hands placed on his hips, clearly trying to emphasise his annoyance at jaeyun’s constant redirecting of phone calls.

“Y/n? As in my y/n, correct?” Attempting to make sure that his ears weren’t suddenly playing with him and at sunghoon’s nod of confirmation he knew to not doubt his ears again.

Jongseong couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face, sunghoon’s own annoyed act completely dropped at the view of his ceo grinning so genuinely for the first time in months.

The sight of jongseong— who usually carried a cold and stoic expression on his face breaking out of his ‘icy cold ceo’ shell and chuckling once his eyes landed on the framed photo atop his table of his beloved girlfriend was enough to make sunghoon smile himself.

He looked like a kid whose parent just bought him his favourite candy, a kid on the morning of Christmas bubbling with excitement, a pretty shimmer in his usually dark eyes that made warmth spread across the young assistant’s body.

“That’s good.. that’s really good. I’m sure she’s going to be happy at all the offers she got.” He replied, very obviously biting his lower lip to calm himself down and fight back yet another dumb grin from his assistant who was now staring at him in amusement as his boss tried to hide his flustered state,

“Your ears are red, you know…” sunghoon couldn’t help but point out the rare sight of jongseong’s ears reddening, he expected his boss’ face to deadpan, his smile to drop when he pointed out his flustered state, yet sunghoon was surprised again when jongseong literally giggled.

“Did you just-“ “shut the fuck up.” The ceo gritted out, clearing his throat to ultimately channel his work mode yet again, he lifted his gaze up to sunghoon’s smiling face before he rolled his eyes.

“Send me a list of all the agencies that called you today, hoon.” He quickly said, his hands reaching towards his leftover paper on his desk, opting to distract himself from the desperate need of seeing you and showering you with all his love for your success today, awarding you to the best of his ability for doing amazing on your first runway.

“Noted. Before I leave boss, I wanted to ask you about an event,” sunghoon’s own business mode switched on, his hands reaching towards his bag that he had placed on jongseong’s sofa upon his arrival to pull out his tablet, fingers quickly swiping across his screen to reach the photos of said event,

“I’m not sure if you have made the decision to attend yet, but y/n has been nominated for model of the year.” He started, his words once again resulting in a surprised jongseong, yet this time the boss had attempted his best to conceal his expressions, knowing how vital and important this certain award event could be for your career.

“The voting for the award has been online, and so far y/n has taken the lead with a gap as big as sixty thousand votes. Her winning the award is guaranteed by a hundered percent, Boss.” Sunghoon finished off, turning his tablet to show jongseong the voting results till now, and he could see your name very clearly on the top of the list, exactly where you belong.

“We’ll attend.”

And after countless, draining meetings, multiple coffee cups brought in by sunghoon to keep his boss awake, a multitude of disagreements and bickering from his assistant followed by whispers of his name around his building, said whispers mainly being questions about his relationship along with his personal life, jongseong finally breathed his first sigh of relief after a plethora of frustrated ones once his feet stepped inside of his shared house with his lover.

Jongseong could feel his frustration and stress leaving his body with every step he took, his steps heavy on your wooden floor that creaked quietly with his movements, each and every work related thought slowly dissolving from his mind to whispers that were pushed into the corners of his brain, he only had his focus and attention set on one goal, and it was to see you, to hold you, to finally shower you with his love and praise.

His feet ached atop the fluffy carpet in your room once he entered, hands reaching upwards to loosen the tie around his neck, blazer long forgotten in the backseat of his car as his eyes spotted your sleeping figure on the bed, his large shirt hugging your frame from beneath the blanket that was carelessly discarded on your body, indicating you being lost in a deep slumber.

Jongseong’s heart swelled at the comforting sight that he used to wish and hope for, the sight of his lover asleep on his bed clad in his clothing, head resting on his pillow with her nose nuzzling into the fabric that carried his soothing scent, the sight of his bed not empty.

If only you knew the amount of love your dear jongseong carried for you in his body, his love that knew no peak and only kept increasing day by day in a comforting manner, he knew his love for you held no limits as it took completely over his body at the mere thought of you.

The warmth that will spread across his chest, his ears slightly ringing while his eyes became unfocused, his fingers fidgeting with one another at the rush of emotions in his body like a teenage boy obsessing over his crush, all this over the mere mention or thought of you.

The effect you had on jongseong was one you weren’t completely aware of, it was one that sometimes worried jongseong, especially during the times where you were busy with your own work, he was brought back into a reality that didn’t have you by his side at specific moments, which resulted sometimes in a quite grumpy and needy jongseong.

One that desperately craved and yearned for your love and affection, both heart and body yearning for you with the warmth now spreading from the top of his head to his toes, the warmth that bloomed from deep within his chest, the temperature of his body increasing the more his steps brought him closer to your figure on his bed.

His body sat on the bed before he could stop himself, the worried thought of accidentally waking you up quickly disappearing when you only nuzzled closer to his pillow, a soft and content sigh falling from between your lips.

Jongseong’s hand had a mind of its own, he couldn’t stop his body from reaching out to touch you after a long, draining and exhausting day. His heart drumming when you leaned into his hand that caressed your cheek gently.

His lips had garnered their own mind as well since he was now whispering your name lovingly into the night, into the darkness of your room in hopes of finally having your sparkling eyes to open and land on him, and with repeated calls of your name with his hot breath right against your ear made your eyelids flutter open.

“Jongie..?” You called out for him, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light, you could make out your lover’s figure on the bed next to you, the familiar feeling of his skin against yours that brought you an immense amount of comfort, you could also hear his small chuckle at your sleepy voice,

“It’s me, my love.” He cooed. voice deep and tender, lips lifting to a lovesick smile that you weren’t able to see while he gazed at the way your hands released his pillow to wrap around his wrist, your warm skin contrasting his own cold one making shivers run down both of your spines, “welcome home,” you whispered, kissing the palm of his hand that was caressing your jaw, in blissful unawareness of the multiple beats jongseong’s heart had skipped.

“You did so amazing today, angel girl.” His body moved on the bed, coming up closer to yours as he hovered above you, his hands never once lifting an inch from your skin while you chuckled at his words, warmth spreading on your cheeks at his praise, you’d been waiting his reaction since the morning.

“I’ve been thinking about you the whole day, baby.” He whispered into your neck, his hands by now had trailed lower and lower, reaching the hem of his shirt, he toyed with the fabric. you hummed along to his words, closing your eyes to relish in the feeling of him so close to you, the heat of his body travelling onto yours pleasantly.

“What were you thinking about with me?” Keeping your tone hushed, your fingertips were trailing along his clothed arm, his muscles flexing lightly under your feathery touch, jongseong could already feel his pants becoming unbearably tighter, suffocating him even further at your low voice.

“Just how bad I wanted to come back home…” his hands finally dipped beneath your shirt, “how bad I wanted to come to you..” goosebumps appeared on your body as his icy fingertips brushed against your warm waist, “how bad I wanted to please you..” a soft gasp tumbled past your lips when his hand fondled with your breast, easily accessing your skin with no restrictions of a bra, “to praise you..” his eyes were glued onto your beautiful face, focusing on every expression you made from his slight movements.

His hands now moved downwards making you involuntarily spread your legs for him, his words and closeness casting a spell on you, “to make love to you..” he rested his palm against your core, your flimsy underwear doing a terrible job in hiding your wetness as jongseong’s breath hitched once he felt your warmth coating his palm completely while you whimpered under him.

“Baby, i need you to sit on my face right now.” he spoke against your neck, placing a quick kiss before pulling away from you after you nodded at his words, jongseong’s hands moved fast in a blur, unbuttoning his shirt and practically ripping it off his body, his hands then reached out to you, guiding you to balance on your knees while he pushed himself to lay on the bed beneath you.

“Just like that, angel girl.” Countless praises rolled off his tongue once you placed both of your thighs next to his head that rested against his pillow, you felt your face burn at the position, your breathes shortening when you looked below you to the sight of jongseong’s eyes darkening by the second, you attempted your best to hold onto the headboard, stabilising yourself as your mind felt like it was melting away once you felt his hot breath against your cunt.

“Fuck..” you softly whispered at the heat spreading along your body, your legs twitching next to his head when you felt your own wetness dripping down your inner thighs, jongseong took his sweet time in reaching to push your soaked panties to the side, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the sight of your cunt glistening and aching for him.

He wasted no time in almost devouring your entire cunt, the tip of his tongue teasing against your sopping entrance only pulling away to circle your throbbing clit, sucking gently as he hummed at your sweet taste slowly coating his tongue, you mewled his name while your knuckles turned white around the headboard.

Pleasure coursed throughout your body in countless waves, one hitting harder than the other as jongseong noisily lapped and licked all of your juices, his arms pulling your thighs lower to his face.

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes when he finally pushed his tongue in your gummy walls, thrusting in slowly to savour the feeling of your nectar covering the lower half of his face, your head was thrown back as your body shook in his hold when his nose nudged against your clit perfectly.

“Come on, love.” He quickly spoke under you before returning his tongue inside of you, low moans and whimpers of his name fell past your lips, each shuddered breath going straight to his aching cock that twitched beneath his clothing while his hips jerked and spasmed uncontrollably, desperate for any sort of friction yet jongseong paid no mind to his own need, completely thrown into a trance by your flavour and the heavenly sight of you atop of him.

“I’m close, baby” you breathed out, the knot in your lower stomach tightening with the gradual building of your release, “use me, angel.” He grunted, one of his arms now wrapped around your waist, his nails slightly digging into your skin while his other hand kept your twitching hips in place.

“Please use me, I need you to use me, cum all over my face.” He nearly whimpered, tongue messily slipping in and out of you before he pulled away to suckle on your aching clit, his words bewitching you entirely, your body leaned against the headboard when you felt your head spinning, mere seconds away from toppling into your climax the longer he continued eating and lapping you up so sloppily and loudly.

Jongseong was thrusting into the blanket at this point, his own release building up just by eating you out, the room felt ridiculously hot, you felt droplets of sweat aligning your hairline while jongseong could feel the droplets rolling down the back of his neck onto his pillowcase, his breaths heavy and hot as he refused to detach himself from you longer than a few seconds.

Your mind by now was completely whirling, jongseong’s continuous humming while you gushed all over his tongue was driving you to insanity, and you made the mistake of lowering your head to lock eyes with his needy ones.

A quiet gasp slipped out of you at the sight of him, sweet eyes already gazing at yours in love, his face glistening in a sheen layer of sweat, his black locks sticking onto his temples while tinier droplets rolled throughout his undercut, cheeks flushed a pretty rose colour while his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

Your hips began to involuntarily roll against him, the coil tightening further and further, you felt tears escape your eyes at the pleasure, suddenly jongseong pulled one of his hands away, his lips detaching from your core as his fingers inched towards your entrance, he carefully slipped two fingers in, both of you groaning in pleasure at the satisfying stretch.

You continued your movements, jongseong began to help you in riding his fingers, guiding your hips with his other hand while he stared at the sight above him, he noticed your every twitch, every shaky breath escaping your chest, every time your teeth grazed your lips to quieten your moans.

“Just like that, angel girl. Come on, give it to me.” He praised, eyes half lidded as he returned to suckling on your clit, adding a third finger in once your slick began to run down his palm and trail along his wrist, his thrusts quickened the whinier your moans turned, lips still wrapped around your clit while his tongue toyed with it.

“Fuck— I’m so fucking close!” You mewled with your back arching, nails digging into the wood beneath them once your legs began to shake, “cum for me, pretty girl.” He mumbled, his own body ablaze as he felt his own release mere seconds away.

And once jongseong pressed his fingertips directly onto one of your sweet spots all the while licking at your nub, you felt the dizzying sensation of pure ecstasy washing over you, broken moans tumbling out of your mouth while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the sight of your climax washing over you to beautifully easily triggered jongseong’s own orgasm, and before he knew it he was already making a mess inside of his boxers at the sight of your moaning and shaking body whimpering out his name.

“Fuck yes baby, there you go. Cum for me,” his praises barely reached your ears as all you could hear was the familiar ringing after a mindblowing release, your eyes still closed while jongseong helped you in riding out your orgasm, slowly beginning to overstimulate you.

One of your hands reached down to hold onto his shoulder, in hopes of giving him the sign to stop yet jongseong was still lapping up all of your wetness with his eyes closed, humming in delight while licking all along your entrance, his fingers slowly came to a stop deep inside of you while his sucking dissolved into soft kisses against your cunt,

“Did so well for me,” he said with soft kiss on your clit, “my perfect angel girl.” kiss, “so so good for me,” tears were veiling your vision once again at his gentlest touches yet you didn’t have the heart to pull away, not when he felt so good.

“I love you so, so much.” And he finished off with a final kiss, carefully pulling out fingers that were covered with your slick, he quickly cleaned them up by pushing them into his mouth, eyes closing once again at your taste before he opened them again to find your own gazing at him tiredly, you were glowing above him.

His arm tried to tug you down, in hopes of you laying down next to him but you quickly stopped him, “jong, let me please you too.” You spoke quietly, throat feeling dry and scratchy before jongseong chuckled, “about that…” he smiled.

You focused on his face in the darkness to see the outline of a cheeky smile on his face, jongseong was quite thankful now for the lack of lighting in the room because his face felt like it was lit ablaze, “you don’t really have to do anything baby..” he spoke, voice becoming lower with every word, his words confused you, what?

Your eyes widened at the thought of him— no. You quickly turned around to the sight of a weirdly obvious and glistening wet patch on the middle of his pants, “jong.. did you really cum just from eating me out?” You asked, eyes still on the wet patch while jongseong rubbed his legs together in discomfort and embarrassment, “baby you don’t understand how amazing it is to eat you out..” he defended himself, voice questionably higher by a pitch as his blush deepened.

Not wanting to tease him further you turned to face him, pulling yourself away from him to lay besides your lover, quickly placing a soft kiss to his blushing cheek before chuckling, “okay baby, wanna join me in the shower?” You asked, voice already laced with exhaustion and fatigue, yet all those feelings dissipated when jongseong pushed his lips against yours, smiling into the kiss in response to your proposal,

“I’m gonna tease you about this later though.”

He stood outside of his car, parked infront of his building, the cold air sent slight shivers throughout his body, resulting in him tugging his blazer closer to himself, he could spot the multiple cars belonging to reporters on the other side of the street, eager to get any sort of photo of korea’s most popular couple, you and jongseong.

Countless other cars had parked next to his, the models that were signed under his company walking out one by one, some respectfully greeting him as they walked towards their respective cars while others shamelessly checked him out or winked at him, fully aware of his relationship.

Jongseong paid no mind to all the other women who were desperate to get his attention, he was too occupied and busy wondering about your outfit, the award seasons approaching also meant multiple runway events taking place— which also meant that your schedule was packed, jongseong was deprived of you terribly.

Specifically today, his hands itched to throw his keys to Nicholas and walk inside the building to see and hold you again as he wasn’t able to see you for the past few days, only able to feel the comfort of your body next to him when you were already sleeping by the time he had arrived.

Your morning fittings proved to be another disadvantage, as jongseong had been waking up these past few mornings to an empty bed, your absence greatly affecting his mornings when you weren’t there to hand him his coffee mug, his mornings without your sweet voice talking to him absolutely sucked.

The longer the days became without seeing you in his office with multiple declines to his ‘wanna visit me in my office?’ The heavier his days weighed on his heart, he turned away from the entrance of the building, in an internal battle with himself.

He physically couldn’t wait to see you again and relish in the familiar warmth of your skin against his— fuck it he’s going to see you right now, who would dare stop their own ceo from entering his own bu—

“Jongie!” And there it was, the same voice that his ear converted into sweet melodies that rung throughout his mind, jongseong couldn’t help the wide smile that spread along his face while his back was still facing you, heart fluttering in his chest from the mere sound of your voice.

He could hear your breath fanning the back of his neck as you had walked closer to him with heels clicking against the floor, he could hear your breath shaking from excitement, your hands reaching to hold his own in happiness of finally seeing him.

And when jongseong finally turned around he physically felt all the air getting knocked out of his lungs, suddenly the world began to rotate slower around him, all the other figures passing by both of you became blurred, your giggle at his smitten expression echoed in his ear, gosh you were so breathtaking.

The dress that he had spent months designing with the occasional help from jaeyun was now hugging your body beautifully, all the sleepless nights of erasing and redrawing all the sketches were all proved to be worth it now.

His smile deepened, widening enough to turn his eyes into crescents as he gazed at you with pure love and adoration, his hands interlocking with yours and he used it to his advantage by pulling you towards him further, his breath brushing against your neck and cheeks, “you look stunning.” He whispered only for your ears to hear.

Jongseong could feel his heart rate gradually picking up with the way your smile widened, eyes shining as you looked up at him, “thank you,” you whispered back, gaze dropping quickly to his own outfit, clad in black pants along with a white satin button up with his logo embroidered atop his chest followed by a dashing blazer, “you look handsome.”

Jongseong couldn’t really help the small giggle that escaped his throat, his fingers tightening around yours as you both broke into an adorable fit of chuckles, paying no mind to the people passing by both of you nor the cameras recording you both from meters away, and surely not to the multiple employees that were by now watching the interaction unfolding from the glass windows with their jaws wide open,

“Are you ready, my love?” Jongseong smiled, hand already softly tugging you towards him as he turned to face the car, “I’m always ready,”

The drive to the venue was relatively quiet, with you asking jongseong a few questions about the reporters and the awards in a hushed tone filling up the air followed by jongseong’s own answers and random jokes to ease the tension he could clearly notice in your shoulders, he knew you were nervous and he was too, was he going to make it obvious to you though? Of course not.

“You think they’ll have food prepared?” You finally whispered the question that’s been plaguing your mind for the past few hours as you hadn’t had the chance to really eat anything with your day being filled with random fittings and sitting down in front of Yizhuo for hours as she did your makeup.

“I hope they do.” Jongseong replied, a smile gracing his face before he turned around to your worried expression, “and if they don’t, you know I’ll make something for you.” He quickly added, shoulder nudging yours in hopes of seeing you smile, his grin widened when you finally did.

Once the car came to a halt and you both stepped outside of the vehicle, jongseong’s hand quickly interlocked with yours amidst all the flashes of the multiple cameras pointing towards you, the sounds of the clicks resonating in your ear as jongseong swiftly walked inside of the venue all the while his hand gently tucked yours towards him to keep you safe,

The yells and calls of both of your names along with questions about your lives and works being shouted here and there quickly quietened when you walked deeper inside the venue, your lover turning around once you reached a deeper spot with less people around to check on you, concerned eyes roaming your body to detect any sort of injury or problem, “you’re okay, angel?” He asked.

You quickly nodded to his words, feeling nothing but excitement running throughout your body as you took in the interior of the venue, packed with famous models and designers from all across the world, the names echoing around you in real life being ones that you’ve only heard on television or read about in the internet, everything around you felt surreal.

Jongseong smiled at the amusement twinkling in your eyes, taking notice your hands that were shaking with nerves and excitement, on instinct he took your hands into his and pressed a loving kiss on the back of each one, successfully returning your attention on him and making you blush as he smiled at you once more, “let’s go, baby”

Both of you walked deeper inside the venue, passing by the red carpet to myraid pairs of eyes following each and every one of your movements, numerous heads being turned in your direction once you and the young ceo became the center of attention, jongseong could practically feel the burning gaze of multiple designers, male models and reporters scorch through his suit.

He could easily pick out the difference between pure envy and jealousy from interest and attraction from the countless pairs of eyes that were glued onto him and you as he scanned the area, and he absolutely hated it.

His attentiveness and expertise in studying other people’s expressions and body languages had landed him in both blessed and cursed situations, for instance he was glad he was able to tell you were into him as much as he was from your first date with the way your attention was completely stuck on him, your fingers fidgety with your nervousness when they weren’t brushing through your hair followed by the adorable pink that would dust your cheeks as you looked down to chuckle at his stupid jokes.

The other instance being now, he could effortlessly nitpick the men who were gazing at your body with disgusting lust and need in their eyes from the men that had genuine curiosity and intrigue written all across their expressions as they gazed at you, your beauty captivating each and every one of their attention with ease.

He hated how these men had the audacity to gaze at you in ways only he should be able to, the nerve of them to think about you in only ways he should be able to, he hated the fact that you probably have the same effect on them as you do on him, plaguing their minds for the rest of the week with thoughts and wonders about how one day will be like with you.

But was the young ceo going to display his discomfort and show the clear jealousy tainting his expression to the whole world? Of course not. Who did these men even think they are in the first place? Why would Park Jongseong give them the satisfaction of seeing him with a sour expression on his face next to his lady who had managed to successfully enchant the entire venue with her beauty?

He would of course stand next to you tall and proud, hand wrapped around your waist protectively, fingertips brushing against the satin of your dress that he had designed and the whole world knew about that fact from his emblem next to your collarbone, a satisfied smile on his face that easily asserted his power and success, a supremacy all the other men around them could only have the ability to imagine about.

The image of the young ceo was guaranteed to be a trending topic in the country for the following few days, his resemblance to his father had always been a hotly discussed topic among the citizens of the city that had their eyes glued onto his every move, yet now with his first appearance into the public eye in a few months was a different kind of whiplash for all the attendees.

Park Jongseong walked with elegance, spoke with grace and radiated charm. His sole character and aura was a heavy statement of opulence and luxury, casting a very clear difference between him and all the other men in the entire world.

It was very obvious to the public eye that he wasn’t resembling the former ceo only appearance wise, but he had an exact replica of his father’s mannerisms. Born and raised into old money truly had done wonders in the upbringing of jongseong in the best way possible.

He was a ‘one-of-a-kind’ man, one in billions that blessed his family of powerful ceos, he truly was destined for success.

And success did he find, in the most loving and caring forms that walked into his life right when he most needed it, the sight of you next to him was pure eye candy for all the cameras in front of you, you and jongseong’s outfit complimented one another perfectly.

The contrast between the young ceo smiling charmingly at all the cameras as he attempted his best to turn and face all the reporters that were yelling his name and you, the embodiment of love and beauty standing besides him, glowing with your dress when you waved at your other friends standing a few feet away from you on the red carpet before smiling sweetly at all the paparazzis, was for sure going to be a trending topic for weeks.

“Don’t you think we should head inside?” You whispered to your lover, voice low in worry of one of the cameras that were recording you both to catch your irritated tone, the one you were trying to hide, jongseong clearly noticed it of course, his head nodding before he could even realise it, turning to interlock your hands once more to finally walk away from the blinding flashes.

Maybe Jongseong shouldn’t take much pride and confidence in his body language studying abilities, as he had completely failed to realise the multiple models that were eyeing him.

From the ones standing a few feet behind you, glaring daggers into you before their eyes twinkled once they landed on Jongseong again, to the ones behind the cameras, whispering with their hands against their mouths with their gazes stuck on your lover, who failed to notice all of them.

But of course you noticed, you felt the way you were being watched not only with lustful eyes but also envious eyes, the thought of multiple women wishing to be in your position, daydreaming about your lover irritated you to an extent, because at the end of the day, he was going to be the one to take your dress off while you left your loving marks on his back.

And one way or another, you will manage to make everyone else in this event realise it.

Jongseong’s thumb caressed the back of your hand gently, he could feel the nervousness radiating off from your body, hell he was nervous himself with his eyes glued on the host atop the stage, holding the envelope with one hand while the other kept the microphone close to his face, Soobin’s voice boomed throughout the speakers in the venue.

“And the winner..” he continued building the anticipation in the area, practically all attendees were on the edge of their seats with their breaths hitched, jongseong could feel his anxiety increasing when he noticed sunghoon’s leg shaking next to his seat, jaeyun’s nervous eyes rapidly moving from the large screen to the stage, your own nails digging into his skin softly whenever soobin spoke along with his mother’s eyes studying your nervous state while whispering reassuring words to you.

“I’m so sure you won, baby.” Jongseong finally found his voice again as he whispered softly into your ear, and similar to a spell you felt all of your worry dissipating at the mere sound of his comforting voice, your grip on his hand loosened while you leaned back into your seat again, a full wave of relaxation washing over you, you turned to look at his eyes already staring at you tenderly.

“I don’t mind, really.” You spoke with a hushed tone, a small smile gracing your lips when your gaze fell onto your interlocked hands with jongseong, “it’s just an award,” you shrugged your shoulders before returning your focus onto the stage, unaware of the grin that now appeared on jongseong’s face at your words.

“For ‘Model Of The Year’ is..” Soobin’s voice brought his attention back onto the screen yet again, the sight of Soobin’s hands hastily opening the envelope he was handed before pulling out a small paper, made jongseong gulp in anticipation, the roles were quickly reversed since now you held jongseong’s sweaty hand with both of yours, gently rubbing your thumb on his skin to calm his own nerves down.

And at soobin’s yell of your name throughout the venue, jongseong felt his whole world slowing down in rotation, you excitedly jumped from your seat with shock painting your face followed by jongseong’s mom also leaping to hug you tightly, her praises and congratulations falling onto your ringing ears as the crowd erupted with cheers and claps.

Sunghoon was too busy celebrating your win with jaeyun who was now hugging the assistant excitedly, eyes shining with a huge smile on his face at his model winning such a huge award in his agency, he felt so proud of you, body twitching in happiness as he stared at you walk towards the stairs of the stage now.

The whole time jongseong was in a state of shock, his eyes attempting their best to focus on your figure standing in front of the mic now, his racing heart skipping beats once his eyes focused on the huge award in your hand, sunghoon’s whispers of ‘i told you’ were left ignored as jongseong tried his best to decipher your speech— he could already tell your halfway through it yet time seemed nonexistent for him at this current moment.

When his ears finally began to pick up and understand what you were saying— “And I would love to thank my beloved husband, park jongseong—“ and just like that his ears began ringing again, his surroundings suddenly slowing down once more.

Because what?

Your beloved who?

The crowd that was only quiet for a few seconds roared with another round of applause and shouts at the announcement, your mind was clouded up and foggy with your own emotions you didn’t even realise your slip up even when your eyes landed on jongseong’s shocked face, his mouth agape with his pretty eyes widened with shock— was he tearing up?

The realisation dawned on you when you noticed sunghoon proudly slapping his friend’s back all the while jaeyun was now bursting with excitement, clapping his hands with multiple giggles falling from his lips followed by sweet congratulations to jongseong— who was slowly coming back to his senses and becoming aware of the camera next to his face, recording and displaying his reaction on the large screen.

His face and ears had flushed entirely red, big eyes twinkling in surprise and shock, lips parted in confusion as he had the urge to say anything. To talk, to scream, to yell at that second yet nothing was coming out besides a breathy chuckle.

Jongseong felt the familiar warmth rushing throughout his body, branching from deep within his chest to his limbs that buzzed with excitement, the familiar warmth that only you were able to generate in him, the warmth and fuzzy feeling of pure love.

He had the courage to look into the lens of the camera with his own tear filled eyes before nodding proudly, confirming your own unbelievable words, the shocking statement that fell from your lips unexpectedly to the entire world.

His heart thundered in his chest when sunghoon nudged him while laughing, jaeyun was now calming down jongseong’s mother who was too busy wiping her own tears of happiness at the sight of not only you on stage but also the sight of her son, jongseong gazing lovingly at you atop the stage, radiating the love and adoration he carried for you from the screen, and the final blow was when he decided to blow a kiss your way.

That was when your own resolve completely crumbled and you bowed one final time to the crowd and soobin before quickly getting off the stage, the urge to be close with your lover surpassing every other emotion you felt in that second, the need to hold him and feel him consuming you to the point of a satisfied sigh tumbling past your lips when you finally made it to your seat again,

With jongseong standing to hug you tightly, lips next to your ear he whispered “congratulations, wifey.”

Jongseong’s didn’t allow his body to stay as distant as an inch away from you, almost like he became glued to you at the hip when you began to make your way back from the event, hands laced together with his towering figure trailing behind you like a shadow.

He couldn’t bring himself to even think about lifting his eyes away from you or drifting a single second away from your body, the only time being when he had to enter his car after you and it was short lived since not even a moment later he was pressed against you.

Still in his state of a giggling and blushing mess bedsides you, he toyed with your fingers while you were on the phone with Yizhuo, accepting all of her sweet congratulations and excited squeals over the line before ending it with a loving kiss to the phone, your lover was now distracted with softly brushing his fingertips against your skin, caressing each vein around your wrist with hazy eyes,

“Jongseong..?” You whispered quietly, eyes quickly checking on Nicholas who glued his attention on the road ahead of him, before returning back to a soft jongseong, he hummed at your call of his name, gaze still stuck on your hand— specifically a certain finger on your left hand, with a ghost of a smile on his face.

“You’re really quiet..” you stared at his side profile, the slope of his nose, his softened eyes filled with passion along with his pretty pink lips pouting in concentration, he was in a deep thought. He simply hummed as a response once again, and before you knew it the vehicle finally came to a stop.

Walking inside the house never felt so soothing for both you and jongseong after a tiring day, once the door behind you got closed you felt his hand rush from interlocking with yours to wrap around your elbow, briefly stopping you and turning a confused you around to face him.

“Did you really mean it..?” He spoke with a hushed tone, eyes blazing with hunger and need for you, his other hand came upwards to caress your cheek lovingly as he awaited your answer, “mean what?” You questioned.

He breathed in deep before speaking once again “do you see a future with me?” His eyebrows slightly raised this time, a slight blush decorating his ears that slowly trailed downwards to his neck, the sight of your gaze softening and transforming from confusion to pure love made him almost melt in front of you.

“Of course I do,” you leaned against him, hands now finding their place on top of his chest, you felt his heart beat drumming beneath your fingertips rapidly while his hands dropped to wrap around your waist, “I’m glad you do, because I can’t wait to marry you.” He spoke before kissing your forehead, resting his against yours as he closed his eyes while yours widened.

“We don’t have to rush..” you quickly said, making him open his eyes once again, you easily drowned in his eyes that were dripping with honey. “We have to, the whole world thinks that we’re married now.” He chuckled, “I don’t mind making that true..” he continued, arms wrapping tighter around you while you stared at him with genuine amusement, “..like right now.” He nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Jong..” you started, heart racing from not only his words but his closeness as well, you felt your body heating up, a familiar warmth taking place between your legs the tighter and closer he held you to him, he walked slowly while he pushed you backwards till your back pressed against the door and his lips found home on your neck.

He breathed in your scent before trailing kisses along the expanse of your skin, your breaths deepened once the room suddenly felt warmer, his blazer around your shoulder felt like it was burning you, your eyes unintentionally closed the wetter his kisses got, the longer he trailed his tongue over his marks and the harsher his sucks got on your skin.

He pressed his leg between yours, knee indenting your dress while it pleasantly pressing against your core allowing him to feel the wetness pooling in your underwear, your hands by now had reached out to wrap around his shoulders, fingertips brushing against his undercut making him groan.

you felt his hardened member press against your thigh achingly while jongseong paid no mind to his own needs, too distracted by your supple skin between his teeth. Yet you couldn’t take it any longer, you needed him inside of you desperately.

“Jongseong..” you whispered once again directly into his ear, tone laced with crave and yearn towards him, he felt his heart skip a beat at your weak sound, quickly detaching himself from you, “I’ve got you.” He mumbled before picking you up with ease,

His feet quickly arrived at the doorway of your shared room, he swiftly stood besides the bed before carefully lowering you onto his bed sheets, wasting no time in climbing atop of you to finally connect your lips for the first time tonight.

His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the marked skin weakly, making a soft gasp flutter past your lips, he trailed his tongue against yours, brushing past your swollen lips while he pressed his body completely against yours.

His other hand quickly came up to rid him of his tie, popping a few buttons open on the way which allowed you to get a look at his gorgeously tanned chest, his hands then worked quickly to open the zipper on the side of your dress before leaving you on the bed clad in lingerie, one that he recognised you and yizhuo designed to hopefully get released under a future lingerie design, and you were sure it was with the way jongseong’s pupils immediately formed small hearts.

“You look stunning..” he breathed out, chest heaving in breaths while he began to kiss your chest, you lowly moaned his name once he began to suck between your breasts, hands fondling with them with the annoying restriction of your bra, his kisses turning more hungry and greedy the lower he reached, he placed on final wet kiss on your hip bone before his hands wrapped around your inner thighs, separating your legs as his placed them on top of his shoulders, lowering himself to the wet patch on your covered panties.

His placed one kiss against your clothed clit resulting in your legs twitching besides his head, he chuckled lowly before kissing you once again, you whimpered his name out, hips needily and uncontrollably rolling as your body was lit on fire at this point, jongseong pushed one finger in through your clothed entrance, the sight of your glistening wetness trickling out more from the sides while he could feel your nectar seeping through the flimsy fabric bewitched him entirely, he gulped when he felt countless waves of pure ache travel his body from his hips.

“Jongseong please..” you mewled, the back of your hand resting against your forehead once you began to feel lightheaded the longer he pushed his finger along with your fabric inside of you followed by his long kisses against your clit, “please what, angel girl? Tell me what you want.” He quickly replied before turning his head to kiss along your inner thighs, his swollen lips pressing against your skin after nibbling on it softly.

“Please let me ride you.” You whimpered out, voice barely audible but jongseong understood your words with ease hence why he suddenly stopped all his movements and god was he fighting off the urge to combust in his pants right now.

Without responding he quickly got up, hands separating from your heat while his face came upwards to yours, he took in the sight of your half lidded eyes, shining with desire, need and devotion when you finally saw him again, the sight of your blushing face with soft breathes panting from between your plump lips, you looked alluring.

Jongseong had seen you on countless magazine covers, your photos on multiple runway shows taken by professional photographers, numerous photoshoot appearances with half of them ending up on billboards all of which you looked absolutely gorgeous in.

Easily putting him under a spell with only one goal in his mind, to please and love you till sunrise only to do it again the whole day and never break this endless cycle of devoting himself to you entirely.

“Of course, angel.” He finally breathed out a response, delicately moving his and your body to get you in the correct position after quickly ridding himself of his pants along with his boxers, with his back against the headboard and you sitting on his lap, he held your waist as he guided your clothed cunt against his aching length that stood proudly against his lower stomach appearing painfully hard, leaking with precum from his reddened tip.

He quietly gasped out your name, his hips twitching with your slightest movements, your hands gripped on his shoulders while his pressed your body closed to his while he moved you as he pleased, his eyes closing as he threw his head back, gifting you the heavenly sight of jongseong with his face blushed, lips glistening with his own spit due to his constant messy kisses, small sweat droplets decorating his hairline before trailing down his honey skin, his Adam’s apple moving when he gulped, you couldn’t really help yourself from leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against it, and you for sure didn’t regret it when it drew out a whimper from your lover.

Impatiently, your hand reached lower to push your sopping panties to the side before aligning his tip against your entrance, your wetness leaking down his length followed by his own precum, the sight arousing you enough to finally sink down on him after countless hours while both of your moans of pure pleasure resonated throughout the dimly lit room.

“Fuck..” he breathed out, his abs flexing from beneath you as he fought his hardest to push his release back since he’s been in an internal battle ever since you slipped up on that blessed stage, his hands held onto your hips once you began to move atop of him, guiding your hips to roll in delicious circles that made you whimper his name against his lips while he sloppily kissed you.

He couldn’t keep his lips off of yours for too long, separating them whenever the urge to moan out your name became to much before returning to suckle on your lower lip, he savoured your flavour and you taking over his senses entirely by closing his eyes and allowing himself to indulge in you entirely while your gummy walls sucked him hungrily.

Your nails began to slightly dig into his skin the harsher his hardened tip pressed against your sweet spots perfectly, your eyes rolling back almost every time you lowered yourself on his cock after lifting your hips to only have his tip inside of you, jongseong began to slowly move his own hips upwards to meet your thrusts, he angled them perfectly to have his tip press against your cervix expertly.

He had memorised every part of your body, every movement that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling and he used every night he spent with you to his advantage, almost vowing to himself to always have you clouded with bliss and pleasure whenever he had the chance.

His length felt like it was splitting you open, moulding your walls to his size and his only with the way his thrusts slowed to the point where he was practically pushing himself inch by inch, his arms trailing upwards to circle around your waist, pressing your upper half against his while he fucked you passionately.

“Jongseong..” you moaned his name eagerly, your own hands had dropped to grip onto his forearms, nails indenting the fabric of his button up shirt while you tried your hardest to stabilise yourself, he quickly shushed you, “I know baby, I know. I’ve got you.” He pressed a quick kiss to your parted lips before reaching for the drawer next to your bed, hand moving hastily to grab the device before revealing the vibrator to you, “jong—“ he cut you off, his other hand holding your chin to tear your gaze away from the device to look at his own reassuring one, “I’ve got you.” He whispered one final time against your lips.

He turned the device on, to a medium setting before lowering his hand and pressing it against your clit, you gasped quietly at the intense vibrations of pure pleasure running along your body, your chest pressed harsher against his, jongseong could feel his mind spinning the longer he felt your breasts pressed against him while your hips involuntarily rolled due to the vibrations, he felt a shudder run down his back when he took notice of the goosebumps on your skin.

“There you go, doll.” He praised you, his eyes glued onto every expression of ecstasy that your face twisted into with the continuous building of your release, the way your eyebrows were furrowed with your pretty eyes tearing up due to the intensity of the pleasure he was providing you was driving him crazy.

You felt the way your abdomen tightened in familiar pleasure, the tightening of the coil indicating the approach of your climax that almost made your mind melt away, jongseong picked up the pace of his thrusts, your wetness mixed along with his own now messily trailing between your inner thighs to coat his own, the sound of wet skin slapping followed by your moans echoed off the walls the longer you needily bounced on him.

“I’m so close.. so so close,” you babbled throughout whimpers of his name, jongseong felt his own release that he desperately fought off right around the corner, he leaned forward to peck along your chest, lips brushing against your collarbone while he moaned against your skin, “i’m close too, baby.” He spoke between kisses, his hand pressed the vibrator harshly against your throbbing clit making you squeal his name, mere seconds away from reaching your orgasm.

“Come on, doll.” He urged on, his voice whiny in need of you to cum all over him and to allow him to relish in the sight of you in cloud nine, the sight he knew multiple men were currently wishing for, the sight that was reserved for his eyes only.

Jongseong felt the familiar jealousy course through his veins when he remembered the nasty looks of those men, his envy reflecting in the way his hand squeezed your hip before he lowered you down forcefully, unexpectedly and impossibly deepening his thrusts. Your moans turning into broken sobs while tears rushed freely down your cheeks when he picked up his own pace and began to piston his cock in and out of you.

“Fuck! Jong— I’m cumming” your voice turned into mere whispers the second you felt the familiar euphoria and fervor washing down on you, hitting your body with explosive waves, each one drawing out a long moan of your lover’s name from between your lips.

Jongseong was never a religious man.

He guided you throughout your orgasm for a few seconds before moving both of your bodies in a split second, he discarded the vibrator carelessly as he suddenly had you beneath him, you gasped in surprise at the unexpected change in position with his hands now reaching to place your legs atop his shoulders while he pushed his cock back into your swollen folds.

“Jongseong please.. I can’t—“ you felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes when he began to thrust again, he lowered himself to kiss along your tears, his hips rolling smoothly in after he pulled a mere inch out, not having the ability to possibly move out further from your heat that sucked and milked his cock in ways that had his body shaking.

“Yes angel, you can.” He cut you off, lips kissing along your wet cheeks, “you can give me another one can’t you?” He questioned, his hips now picking up pace ardently, overstimulating you while you could only writhe in his hold, the feeling of his tip now fully pressing against your cervix made your eyes roll to the back of your head, your body now twitching beneath him fully as you felt another orgasm building up.

“I know you can baby, you’re so perfect for me..” he babbled on, using every second that he doesn’t have his lips pressed onto your skin to whisper praises to you, “you were made for me, angel.” He kissed along your jawline while you sobbed his name, “my precious princess, does that feel good to you?” He lifted his face to take in the sight of your pretty face completely fucked out.

You nodded wordlessly to his words, he had successfully pushed you into a subspace filled with nothing but delight, your ears were ringing with only mumbles of his words reaching your brain, at this specific point you felt mind blowing waves of pleasure running throughout your body, confusing you on whether or not you were cumming again but you couldn’t bring yourself to care or focus.

“Did I fuck you dumb, doll? It’s okay you know I’ll take care of you, angel. I’ve got you, hm?” He continued, his legs now convulsing while he felt himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm, he could taste the metallic taste of his blood coating his mouth due to how harshly he had been biting his lips.

He felt you cumming around him once again, your nails gripping around his arms with your eyes closed shut while you whimpered beneath him, not able to process anything besides the borderline painful pleasure he’s been causing, his eyes softened at the rush of fresh tears from your ears when you tightened around him once again, “jongie..” you finally were able to weakly whisper his name, with both of your bodies twitching in overstimulating ecstasy.

your voice needily calling for him was enough to finally have him toppling over the edge, he choked out your name once he felt his mind clouding with blinding euphoria, hot white rushing through his veins as he pressed his hips sharply against yours, his tip pressing against your sweetest spots while he filled you up with his thick ropes of cum, painting your insides pleasingly white.

countless whispers of fuck fuck fuck fell past his lips followed by loud moans of your name as he plunged inside of your wetness to ride out his climax, unintentionally bringing you to another orgasm that made your walls convulse around him painfully, your peaks of pleasure seemed endless once jongseong felt his own tears of overstimulation lining his waterline, his wobbling lips pressing against your shiny ones, your body twitched beneath him once he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist after lowering your legs from his shoulders,

He suckled on your lower lip as his thrusts finally came to a stop with his cock deep inside of you, he felt his body burning with the intensity of the aftershocks, he quietly whispered your name expecting you to open your eyes yet you could only bring yourself to hum, he began to suck on your the tip of your tongue, hands caressing your sides while his length softened in between your warm walls,

“Angel.. my sweet girl.” He whispered, his dazed eyes now awaiting yours to open up finally, “come on..” he softly tapped his index finger along your cheek, finding the way you suddenly wrapped your arms around his shoulders to hold him closer endearing, “come on baby, come back to me..” he urged on, and once his longing tone finally reached your ears, you attempted your best to open your eyes.

“There you go baby..” he chuckled at the sight of your unfocused eyes, his fingers tenderly caressed your wet cheeks, patiently waiting for you to fully return your focus back onto him again, “did so well for me, pretty girl.” He praised before trailing kisses along your jawline, “my sweet angel.” He spoke with a final kiss to your parted lips, a soft smile appearing on his face when he finally noticed your hazy eyes focusing on him,

“You did so good for me, baby.” He said in a hushed tone, quietly speaking as to not overwhelm you in any way, the only goal in his mind was to get you both cleaned up before cuddling you till the afternoon tomorrow, “I love you so much,” he whispered, his heart swelling when you gently kissed him.

And that night became one of his favourites with you when he finally tucked you in his bed, your body clean atop changed bedsheets with him besides you, completely unaware that jongseong’s previous words were actually true, and the proof of that was the small velvet box inside of his blazer that he had messily discarded when he was undressing you.

៹ — A,NOTE. pt2. as mentioned above this was not proofread or edited so im kind of terrified to post this but I just finished it and i desperately want this work out of my drafts because it’s been here since the end of jan 😭

I would also like to point out the fact that I used punctuation this time ☝️ or atleast well TRIED to use it to my best ability, and that this will also have a part two (that’s not going to be released anytime soon because this one drained me) and it will focus on the more possessive and somewhat toxic? side of ceo jay bcs im obsessed with him 🙏🏼

some scenes were also written very quickly with my mind completely empty to it makes me feel kinda :/ like especially the award scene it was kinda rushed but I was kind of working on a time crunch (idk why but I wanted this out as soon as possible) so that’s why some scenes might feel empty or not as well and in depth written as the other ones which is on me + the fact that I don’t really know much about the modelling agency so I didn’t go into detail about writing it in case it’ll be wrong which is also why some scenes will be feeling empty. but anywho !! i hope u some what enjoyed my longest fic to date :D !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

(p.s big thanks to Victoria Monét’s collaboration song with kehlani ‘touch me’ for giving me this idea and for making that song and if u read the lyrics they somewHAT inspired this whole fic especially kehlani’s verse and if some other parts don’t make sense then don’t worry because they will in part two 😁💯)

#sigh #i want to throw up #what the fuck #THIS??????#everyone better read this [threat]#stella my darling #you slayed so hard a part of me died actually #i can’t breathe lmao #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #park jongseong smut #park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #jay enhypen #jay enha #enha!recs #stella!

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suad-khaled · 1 month ago

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Can you imagine being stripped of safety at the happiest moment of your life? I’m Suad, a young mother from Gaza, where I gave birth to my son Khaled amidst the chaos of w@r.

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I have come to realize that I can’t face these conditions alone. Every bit of support, whether through sharing my story or posting these updates, means so much to my family and me. I kindly ask you to help spread my story, as everyone who reads it may be a bridge to the support we desperately need.

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jytan2018 · 1 year ago

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I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

Edit: Added more thoughts!

#nimona #nimona meta #nimona comic #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin

15K notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Text

The Invisible String Theory

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You didn't expect the man who gave you his coat to be the same one to bust down the door where you and the other women slept - sniper hood scaring everyone within an inch of their life. You didn't expect him to become so important to you, either. (Based on König's in-game backstory).

WORDCOUNT: 9.2k

WARNINGS: Human trafficking, mentions of unwanted touching, trauma, blood, gore, guns, bullets, protective!König, soft!König, nightmares, mentions of bullying, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

'DATE: 25, NOVEMBER, 2021

LOCATION: BERLIN, GERMANY

TIME OF EVENT: 0230

MISSION REPORT: PENDING….'

You don’t remember much from the day that could be called out of the ordinary. Ever since you’d been moved here with the other girls, everything was predictable down to the time the men would come over, to the point where the screams had to be muffled by pillows.

Never in your life did you think you’d be part of the nearly fifty million people stuck in this situation, and neither did you think you’d be the one in one hundred who got out. But before you can think about November twenty-fifth and those pale gray eyes, you have to go back to the beginning. To Al-Qatala.

You hadn’t been with this cell initially—you’d been moved around and bartered off more times than you could count; the initial founder of your predicament was long gone at this point. North and South America, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Oceania…you’d been practically everywhere and on every continent barring the obvious last. In Europe, you couldn’t name the countries, but you knew this for a fact: you’d never been to Germany before.

They had you with five other women in a large SUV in the beginning, this international ring of human traffickers. You had watched from the window, face blank and eyes unblinking, at the men who met near the docks. They had brought you in through Hamburg, first—not only the largest seaport in Germany but the third largest in Europe; you think you read that on a flier at some point. One of those flimsy ones that you find in gas stations with bright lettering to attract the tourists with their interesting facts.

You wished you were only a tourist.

You’d watched the men shake hands, and that was when you knew your fate, as well as that of the five other women, was sealed. You were going to all be here for a long time.

This Al-Qatala cell was ruthless, but you supposed with being around terrorists, ruthlessness was better than being executed.

For days you’d be exploited with the false promises of moments of freedom, breaks, food, and water. For some of the women it was drugs or money, but when your stomach was empty and your eyes blurring from lack of sleep, even addictions seemed to pale for brief hours. But above it all was the threat of death at every corner. These men would kill you.

It was only a matter of time unless you could give them what they wanted.

You yourself had developed a system, and it was probably the only reason you were still alive. Pick one of the handlers, gain his favor, and pray that he treats you specially while you keep up the act of a mindless, weak, woman.

Ivon was the man’s name this time around. Born and raised here in Berlin before the clutches of his fanatical ideations brought him to Al-Qatala. You hated him.

Hated his touch—hated his scent and how he talked; every bit of him was corrupted like a black dog at a crossroads, always leading people down the wrong path. Your only saving grace was that he was stupid. The other girls called you Cat—said you managed to nuzzle up to someone and soon after got them to give you what you wanted. Everything you wanted except freedom, that was.

You didn’t deny that Ivon did give you privileges, but that was the point. About a week into your stay in Berlin, he allowed you to go into public with him. Arm-candy.

A doll.

The townhouse you’d been stuck in had disappeared into a spec behind the rearview mirror, the chilled air from outside making you shiver at the lack of heat and the thin shawl you’d been thrown. No jacket.

The care of your health only extended to how well you were able to work—at the moment you were relatively healthy despite the bulge of bruises and constantly shell-shocked look behind your eyes.

But the trip—the trip. You supposed that was when it had fully started, and you didn’t even realize it before you saw those gray eyes again.

“Come,” Ivon orders, holding tightly to your arm and dragging you along from the corner shop without making a scene. Your hands loosely brush the wrack of clothes, fabric soft under your fingertips as it sways.

Fixing your shawl, you try to burrow your neck into it, gaining what little heat is available to you. It was cold out—you were shivering. People send looks, eyes tight as they shift up and down your form, but no one ever says anything. To be this bold, this cell had to have been at this for a long, long time. The realization didn’t make you feel any better.

That was when you first saw him.

You were standing outside a coffee shop, quivering like a newly hatched butterfly, Ivon making a call only a few feet away with fast motions of his arms. It was hard not to make a run for it right then and there; hard not to take those few seconds of open air and dash away—start screaming and yelling until the authorities came.

It would save yourself, but what about the others? They wouldn’t be so fortunate, you’d be sentencing them to death. None of this was simple—it needed to be thought out. Two games of chess being played at the same time.

The irony of it was that König had been off-duty that day. It had been a shot in the dark.

“Are you alright?” A thick Austrian accent makes you flinch as it appears beside your right ear, grating.

Your eyes snap to the side, moving one foot back as you blink wildly up at the blue-gray orbs that would become a staple. You liked to call it as everyone else did—the invisible string theory. A theory that stated that the universe connected people who were destined to meet one day. Through thick or thin waters, it was inevitable. He was inevitable.

“Yes,” you say quickly, holding your hands tightly around you. The man ahead of you was tall, almost startlingly so, with muscles more bulky than a boulder and his buzz-cut head open to the chilled breeze. He wore a surgical mask over his lower visage, his hoodie under the thick material of a canvas jacket. “Yes,” you say again, hearing Ivon’s voice behind you still on the phone. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Gray eyes furrow slightly, gaze darting over your head.

“Are you…sure, Ma’am?”

“Thank you for your concern,” you fake laugh, eyes pained, backing up farther. That invisible string snaps into place, pulling tight at only those few simple words.

His stature made you slightly nervous—large, intimidating; those hands could do quite the damage if given the chance. Your eyes had hit and bounced off the identity discs at his chest with little thought, too preoccupied to notice the fact that he was in the Service.

König’s eyes had narrowed softly, dark brows minutely moving in.

Ivon hangs up his phone.

“Can I help you?” He asks, coming up and sliding a hand around your waist. The man had stared at him for a long minute, and you had felt Ivon tense slowly at the unblinking eye contact.

This stranger had commented in German a long string of frim words, hands going to his jacket and grabbing at the arms—he slips out of it while still uttering.

Before you can react, the large coat swallows you whole and you snatch at the heat that’s still inside instinctually, now only realizing how much you were shivering. Your body sags into the weight of the fabric, the scent of sweat and coffee.

You don’t even pay attention to the growing tones, shocked. People look over to the two fast words being tossed.

Yet it could only last so long.

Ivon’s hand latches onto the side of your arm, beginning to drag you back and away from this kind stranger like a lap dog while throwing curses behind him. Gray eyes meet yours as old shoes skid and stumble.

König had taken a firm step towards you that day, his body tense and his hands clenched at his side—ready to do anything on a moment's notice should you ask for it. But all you do is stare, jaw loose, and the given coat still on your shoulders. You just couldn’t understand why he would do that.

The stranger gets swallowed by the crowd, and just like that, he’s gone.

That was all it had been; a moment—a few mere seconds in the large plot that was this almost impossible tale. You were glad it had been him, or else the events of the future could have been very different.

Of course, they hadn’t let you keep the jacket, but the memory was enough to warm you for days even as old pains faded and new ones took their place.

But those gray eyes would help you in the future, like a guardian; a protector in your dreams as you watched the snow fall from the sliver of outside light in your room with the others. Your mattress was on the floor like the rest, thin blankets and clouds of cold breath wafting up from sleeping forms.

This was the time it happened, and you’d just woken up to find the curtains shifting as one of the women near it moved in her sleep. Shadows slip past, the light interrupted as it shifts over your tired face with broken fractures.

You were always kept on the ground floor.

'CLEARANCE: APPROVED

TRANSLATING MISSION REPORT ‘RED FREEDOM’…

STAND BY…

Operation Red Freedom took place on November twenty-fifth, 2021, at approximately 0230 in the neighborhood of [REDACTED], at the residence of [REDACTED], Berlin, Germany. A squad of ten highly trained [REDACTED] personnel covertly entered the residence in two teams of five. Fireteam One advanced from the back entrance while Fireteam Two entered the residence from the balcony at the top floor, accessed via ladder.

Squad Leader [REDACTED], part of Fireteam One, set foot in the residence of [REDACTED] at approximately 0238 and began sweeping the ground floor as Fireteam Two cleared three of twelve known individuals belonging to the terrorist organization, Al-Qatala, on the top floor….'

You shift and shiver, your body trying to warm itself as the world blurs at the sides of your vision. Fingers twitch as your hand goes to wrap your waist, curled into the fetal position, creaking emanates from above you. Blinking softly, you frown and take a quivering breath, head nuzzling the thin mattress.

“Cold,” you say, the following low exhale of air out of your lips only making it all worse as everything seems to drop another degree. The darkness didn’t help either, only that one line of light trying desperately to fill the room like a bucket descending into a dry well.

You’re only clothed in the dirty and tattered remains of a large shirt, your legs feeling like they don’t hold any blood in them as they quiver without your knowledge—shaking the blanket above you. A few of the girls had said it would be okay to share, but everyone was afraid of the lock on the door clicking open and the men coming back in and seeing them. In the end, you could only look after yourself.

A thump makes you startle, drooping eyes snapping back open as you gasp.

Head shifting, you blink rapidly upward to the ceiling, confused as to whether that had been a part of a failing mind or if you’d really just heard a muffled bump upstairs. Brows furrowing, you lightly sit up, hands still around yourself and legs limply outward; spine hunched.

Your fingers had lost feeling, just as your nose had gone numb, but moving helped a little. Your hands dig into your flesh and your ears twitch at every creak in the wood—every pass of silent feet that suddenly becomes all the clearer as the sheen of fatigue slowly leaves your brain.

Walking? Small pains move along your body like needles, poking and prodding, but you ignore them as easily as you do the vile hands that had touched you. Survival had forced you into a constant state of self-preservation—pain couldn’t bother you, because if you stopped, you wouldn’t get back going again.

Your head tilts so you can side-eye the door to the room, sleeping forms all around shifting, singular groaning of tired lungs. But there’s something inside of you that stiffens like a prey animal, and you don’t know why. Inside of your sockets, your eyes hone in, bones stiff and your chest stilling as the grain becomes the most interesting thing to you beyond breathing.

There was someone….out there.

Watching, the sides of your vision shadow over to focus harder, your muscles tight. Your mind goes to the thumps from upstairs, the moving feet that sounded far more careful and deliberate than the ones your jailors took care to walk with.

Inside your ribs, your heart patters a bit faster, adrenal glands sending a certain flight or flight through the few veins you hold that aren’t chilled over.

Something was happening. Something wasn’t right.

Only when you move to shake the shoulder of one of the women sleeping beside you does it happen.

A yell.

A scream.

The girls in the room all startle awake, sounds of concern and shock entering the air that you mirror; faces snapping to the ceiling and the door. The townhouse erupts into gunfire and the sound of slamming wood—a warzone that only is separated from all of you by the thin material of the four walls.

You feel yourself being grabbed and held in fear in the dark, as your open face holds the expression of a rabbit in an open field, looking along the long, hidden grass.

The sounds persist, loud German shouts going up over the house and echoing with heated fever. This continues for minutes, added in with the sound of doors breaking off hinges, bouncing off the ground, and shaking the foundation so hard that you can feel it reverberate. The women go silent. Stone-still.

But the gunfire—so much gunfire. The constant pop of assault weapons and a pound of multiple booted feet.

What was going on? You can't make sense of it, so you only freeze and listen; trying to understand the longer the fight goes on, heart hammering; mouth slack-jawed. And then it’s like it never happened.

Silence.

You share quick looks with the others, all gripping one another and heads angled to the door. The heavy feet start back up again, coming closer. Your mind slashes to the window across the room, but it’s hard to think beyond the sudden body that shakes the door that leads directly to you all—the women scream, some standing up and racing to the glass with the same idea as you.

'…Squad Leader [REDACTED], and both Fireteams successfully eliminated all targets inside of the [REDACTED] residence, leaving the room occupied by known hostages last to prevent casualties and/or the usage of bargaining chips. Squad Leader [REDACTED] made contact with hostages at approximately 0244 after the final sweep of the townhouse had been completed and all personnel accounted for.

Local authorities had been contacted by neighbors due to noise but were dismissed.'

The door busts off its hinges and the room devolves into panicked yells and hurled bits of mattress material. Loud pleas and curses stuck like gums to teeth as they were forced out in fear and bone-crushing terror. You remember pushing back into the wall, many others doing the same, as a beast of a man enters the room with his face covered with a loose fabric hood of some sort.

Large—brutish. Like a demon walking with the color of black printed over his entire body; gear hangs from a combat vest, hands holding an assault rifle as a sidearm is strapped to his bulging thigh. Forearms the side of your head stays near his chest, and in order to not hit his head on the doorframe, the individual has to bend slightly. Over that hood, the lenses and head-gear of a night-vision rig sit heavily before it’s moved back with a firm hand that is nearly double the size of yours.

A monster.

Your entire being is tight with quivering tension, eyes blinking away tears at the smell of blood that rolls in from the hallway. The women at the window duck down, hands to their heads as if expecting a bullet to carve its way between their skulls.

“Cat,” one of the ladies behind you mutters, voice quivering. You shush her on bitten lips and move her farther behind you.

“Don’t speak,” you mutter. “Don’t move.”

You don’t know what you expect, but nothing about this is correct.

The man raises his hands, the rifle slapping his chest as it hangs from a strap. He speaks in German, and the heavy and fast noise of it makes your already addled head spin. No one answers beyond the slide of their own feet over the hardwood floors.

“Ich heiße König,” his head swivels from one to another, “Sprichst du Deutsch? Irgendjemand?”

You stare blankly, panting.

After a moment, and a slow step forward from the stranger, he speaks again, though this time, it’s in English.

“My name is König.” His voice is familiar to you, and you blink in confusion quickly, hidden near the back of the shaking bodies. “I am with the German Military, yes? We have conducted a raid on this residence.”

Military? Raid?

“...I am not here to hurt you.” He nears one of the women, beginning to bend down slowly. She squeaks, balking back—making him tense and halt. It didn't matter what he said, König was the epitome of a man who was intimidating on body alone; the gear wasn’t helping. Neither was the hood.

A soldier appears in the doorway, calling out to him in his native language as you flinch at the noise.

König calls back calmly, trying to keep an air of gentle strength around him.

The second soldier comes inside, dressed similarly despite the lack of fabric over his visage which instantly puts many at ease again. He clears his throat as König steps back, gargantuan hands coming up to rest at his vest collar as his legs shift. He seems a bit put off at the fearful stares from everyone, rolling his shoulders for a moment as he turns his head to look out of the doorway.

Your eyes don’t move from him, though. A nagging feeling in the back of your skull.

“We have to leave this place,” the second soldier tells you all, kneeling and resting a hand over his knee. “We’ll get you medical attention. Food. Water. There’s no need to suffer here any longer, hm? We can see to it that all of you will get the best care that can be provided.” A pause. “We can get you back home.”

That certainly got the attention that was needed.

Meek questions started falling out, then louder ones before pandemonium was roused in that tiny room pushed to the very back of the townhouse. Home. It was a word that had almost lost all meaning but was still that constant shining light in the back of everyone’s mind.

Home.

Did you even have one of those left?

As the rest of your fellows all got to their feet, taking you with them, you had to think over that fact as the soldier guided them gently out of the room to join the others waiting—trying to answer their questions and get them away from the gore before they saw it.

You stayed behind, feet shifting over the floor and your lips thin. As the silence settles in, you hold yourself a bit tighter and glance at the mattress all mashed together and stained—those thin blankets as you shiver.

“Are you alright?” Your head snaps over.

You’d forgotten about König.

He still stands there, still and with his hands at his collar; he clears his throat softly, speaking up from his low utterance. “Please…do not be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” you say tinily, your voice cracking in the lie.

You can’t see his eyes—not with the shadow from his hood or his head rig, but you can see the way his skull lightly tilts to the side, trying to see you better in the low light.

“That is good,” he answers, not convinced. “I’m glad. I did not wish to scare anyone.” He moves back and motions with a hand to the door from where they hang. “Please. It is best not to linger, yes?”

“Do I…” you hesitate, shivering. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

König’s face isn’t visible, but you can still sense the feeling of confusion leaking out of him. The man takes a small step closer, and you gaze up at him until his eyes are visible.

Blue-gray.

You stare, mouth parting in shock.

König blinks twice, quickly making a noise in the back of his throat at the sight of your eyes gazing into his—the same woman outside of the coffee shop from days ago.

That little invisible string pulls you closer, small millimeter by small millimeter.

“You?” You both say it at the same time, laced with surprise and shock.

It’s a long moment of gazing into each other, a battered body and another more strong than an ox. All fear of the man dissipates.

“You gave me your jacket,” you whisper, still torn up about it.

König’s hood shifts as he glances back to the door, German speech over the radio strapped to his chest which he takes in and processes in the back of his skull. But he always looks back at you, eyes crinkled with concern and perhaps even a bit of misplaced guilt.

A protective knife sides into his side.

“Come.” The man reaches out a hand, hovering it over your arm. You stare at the gloved limb for a moment before softly moving towards it with your breath caught in your throat, hesitant. König’s fingers delicately slide over the flesh, not closing around it until he feels your muscles loosen. “...Let’s get you warmer, Schatz, yes?”

You blink.

“It’s cold here,” you mutter, letting him guide you along, his gray orbs always keeping you in the side of his vision.

“Yes,” he agrees, nodding. “Very cold. Have you been to Germany during the winter before?”

Your head slightly shakes, bare feet padding along next to the pair of great boots—you lean closer unconsciously to the promise of warmth. König guides you away from the seeping blood on the floor and protects your eyes from the view of the bodies across the room with his own as a guard dog would.

“No.” He notices your leaning and brings you nearer to him, letting you use him as a brace. The man knows the effects of shock, and you wear it as plainly as any other. “I’ve never been here before.”

König hums and his free hand goes up to press into the radio, muttering in his native tongue. He releases the connection and asks as he blinks at you, “Do you require any immediate medical attention?”

Again, you shake your head.

“Where are the others?” You sink further into him, being guided to the front door, open to the soft snowfall and a chilled wind as your shoulder hunch.

“Just outside,” König glances at the bodies across the room—the ones he’d riddled with bullets that still twitch even as the minutes draw longer. Gray eyes going from one to another, the house is heavy with the weight of dead men. Twelve in total and all getting colder just like the temperature outside. König didn’t feel bad about it, and when he’d finally busted open that door to find you and the women, he was satisfied with the blood on his hands. If hell were to be his home, he would walk there with a golden-fanged smile.

But now wasn’t the time for that.

“I will bring you to them,” the soldier speaks, snow blowing in from the entrance. “Slowly, now, Schatz, watch the steps. Allow me to help.”

You stop at the doorway, bringing a hand to your mouth to cover a haggard cough as König makes his way down the first concrete step ahead of you—large armored vehicles had pulled up from a ways away. The women huddle around one another, the rest of the soldiers sticking by them and opening the doors to the vehicles as the night gets only more cold and stormy.

Gray eyes flicker for a moment down to your lack of proper protection, fingers twitching and tapping at his thigh as König remembers your expression the day he’d first met you.

“Do you want me to carry you?” He says slowly, cautious in his approach. The man wasn’t stupid—he wouldn’t touch you unless you explicitly stated it was alright for him to do so. “I will be gentle, I promise. I do not wish for your feet to freeze, I...” He pauses as you blink, staring into his soul. “I…will not touch you if you do not tell me to do it. You have my word.”

You continue to stand there for a moment, face unreadable before your head slowly turns to the vehicles in the street.

The neighborhood was so normal it still caused you to wonder how no one had spoken up and seen something. Rows of connected houses now with their lights on—faces peeking from the windows like little children on Christmas morning; trying to get glimpses of Santa and the man’s reindeer.

Finally, your gaze moves back to the hooded visage of König, able to see it better under the moonlight and the glare of falling snowflakes—a few of those frozen pieces sitting in the folds of the fabric.

“The hood scared them,” you utter about the others. König stiffens a bit, blinking at you but not looking away. “They’re used to people trying to hide their faces, but yours…with how large you are…”

“I understand.” König doesn't tear away his eyes. “...Did I scare you, Schatz?”

You don’t know why, but for what seems like the first time in years, the question makes you giggle. The beast of a man goes still with his feet on the ground, usually jittery and moving body captivated by the sound as it echoes over the night’s air—the puff of your breath as it moves around his hood; rustling it like leaves on a tree.

Eyes widening only a sliver more, König’s breath is in his throat.

It was like listening to a bird’s song.

“Maybe only a little,” you whisper to him. “But it’s okay. I’m scared of most things.”

He licks his lips, but you’re unable to see the slight quirk of them afterward.

“Then I will make it up to you, yes?” He holds out a hand. “Let me? The car is warm and your friends are waiting for you. My men say they ask about your health.”

You softly nod, the shadow of the house trying to drag you back into it—its blackened arms reaching and latching onto old scars. When your hand connects with König's, the man takes his time putting one foot back to a step and scooping you up from behind your knees. With a tiny grunt, you settle at his chest, calming your heartbeat with the fact that you know he won’t hurt you.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

In his arms, your bare legs hang in the air, hand wrapping his neck, and with a slightly nervous look to you as your body hovers. König watches for a moment, hesitating before he begins walking to the same vehicle the other woman had been moved into out of the snowfall.

“Can you tell me your name,” he asks to distract you from his hold, to get you more comfortable with him as his boots crunch through the packed powder on the ground—making sure to watch his step so as to not jostle you.

“Everyone calls me Cat.” Gray eyes blink your way, visible skin painted black. König’s head tilts. You can’t help but find it endearing.

“Katze?” He hums, and you can imagine his lips moving slightly upwards from the innocent tone of his voice as if taken by the strange moniker. “That is…interesting.”

You huff tinily, shivering again as your body moves to curl a little more.

The soldier quickly reassures you. “Nearly there.”

The vehicle is in front of you, and a nearby man opens the door for König as he carries you over. Nodding in thanks, the large individual eases you into one of the seats as the blast of warm air makes you sag—the other woman in there mulls closer, grabbing onto you and laughing through tears.

Looking back at them, you smile and feel yourself get a bit teary-eyed as everything starts to slowly come into focus.

Glancing outward, you stare at the snow that hits the dark hood of König, sticking and hanging off until the tiny white dots melt from the heat of his body. With his legs shifting he moves back a step and nods to you, eyes moving to stare at the ground for a moment.

“We will take you to base. From there you will all be given dorms and fresh apparel to—”

“Thank you, König,” you interrupted him. He stares, lips parted with the half-tones of cut-off speech. “And please extend my thanks to your men as well.”

“...Of course, Katze.” König stands straighter, always twitching fingers moving to the car door as engines start with a grinding roar. He nods again, the loose fabric swaying as the lenses of his rig stay firm at the movement. “There is no need to thank us. Relax. Sleep, if you wish to do it. The ride will be long.” The man’s gray eyes linger for a moment on your own, studying the bumps and small marks on your face. His hand tightens over the door as your gaze is stuck with his own; warmth blooming in his chest. He was glad he had found you.

König slips out a soft, “There are blankets under the seats,” before he closes the door with a firm thump of metal.

You can’t help but smile.

'…Hostages were taken back to [REDACTED] and received minor medical attention on site. Housed in [REDACTED] and were admitted for needed treatments/medications - all details/names listed in File 3 Section 6 for future reference. DNA was placed into databases.

Next of kin were informed of their family members’ position and/or state of being via phone call to the corresponding government official that then traveled through the appropriate channels once identified.'

You sit as a nurse hands you heating pads for your hands, which you take with a small thanks and clenched tightly, sucking every ounce of warmth from them to stop the shaking. Your body was heavy with the weight of new clothes and heated blankets, the room utterly normal in a way you’d not known for years. A corner table with books and a chess board—a connected bathroom stocked with amenities you may need; even a rug on the tile floor. You don’t know why that was shocking to you, but even the simplest thing was awe-inspiring. Your eyes had even slipped over a tiny nightlight near the door.

It nearly made you cry.

Your nurse moves back a bit, smiling down at you kindly.

“Is there anything else you might need, Dear?” Her accent is prominent, though not as much as König’s had been. She waits for your answer diligently as the pitcher of water and a similar glass sit on your nightstand.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. Your socked feet rub together like a grasshopper. “I think that’s all.” Your eyelids blink. “But…” you stop.

“What is it?” The lady asks gently, hands slack at her sides.

“The man—König,” you pause. “Is he here?”

Blinking at you, the nurse tilts her head to the side in curiosity. “Not currently, no. At least, not in this specific building. He and his men are being debriefed across base. They will be there for a long while.” At your blank look, her brows slightly move up in accommodating comfort. “Would…you like me to tell him something for you?”

Playing with the heating pads in your hands, your face gains a slightly embarrassed sheen. You liked the thought of being near König, truthfully. No one had made you feel safe like he did—him and his selfless action of a large coat given with no intention of getting anything in return.

“Just,” you breathe softly. “Just that I’m sorry for losing his coat, and that I hope it wasn’t expensive.”

The nurse stares, very much confused but not about to question you. Her feet shift over the floor, and a light nod is sent your way.

“Of course. I’ll tell him.” She motions to the bed with a hand and explains that whenever you wished to sleep, you were free to use the bed—and the TV was open to you as well, though you might not be able to understand the local stations. With that, she exited the room.

Left alone, your head moves around the room slowly, taking it all in once more as the small bandages under your clothes pull at your flesh. The tears start slipping down your cheeks with no warning.

Wrist coming up to your eyes, the limb presses in tightly, water staining the flesh as it dribbles down, and your lip quivers like a worm below it. You don’t know why you’re crying now and not when König had gotten you out of that townhouse. Why now, when there wasn’t anything prompting you to do so?

But something was prompting you—the knowledge that you would never be going back to anyone who would mistreat you again. You had your own room. Good food. All the water that your stomach could drink down. A nightlight that pushes back the darkness even if you’re so used to living in it.

Through your soft sniffles, chuckles move out, filling the space with a warm echo. You pull the blankets closer to you and collapse backward onto the mattress, smiling widely at the ceiling.

That little invisible string dances as your heart pulls at it.

—

König’s leg lightly jumps from under his table, signing off his name at the bottom of a report before he stands and rubs a hand over the top of his un-hooded head. He grabs the paper and slips it into a manila folder, hands pale with deep scars running the length of them like fissures in the earth. Deftly taking the item, he walks out of his office and begins moving down the length of the building, fingers tapping over the yellowish material with a small connection of flesh and thick envelope.

Tap-tap, tappity-tap.

His fingers were always fidgeting—moving, tensing, twitching. It was one of the reasons they never let him become a recon sniper; the more obvious being the blatant size of his body. Both of which had been the cause of much teasing throughout his childhood.

But König’s mind was on something other than the report in his hands, and it was starting to become a very strong distraction. You. The women. Al-Qatala.

He was angry he hadn’t acted outside of that coffee shop—angry he hadn't noticed the signs right in front of him even if he had been powerless to stop it then. The soldier’s jaw clenched, the strong muscles of his jaw roving.

“Verdammt,” he hisses under his breath, glaring at the tile. “Should have done something.”

König gets to his commanding officer’s office and knocks, only staying long enough to hand him the folder with his finished report and leave once more. His mind wouldn’t stay silent tonight. There’s no doubt that he won’t be able to sleep unless he reassures himself that you and the others are okay.

The man’s head shifts back to the email he had gotten from your assigned nurse, whom he’d taken it upon himself to know the name of when he carried you into the base’s hospital—Eva.

‘...She says she wants to apologize for losing your coat…”

König’s heart had twisted at that—that was what you were concerned about? He had to tell you that it was alright, or else he would never know peace. Perhaps even ask how you’ve been treated so far, just to make sure that everything was comfortable for you.

The man’s eyelids move slightly downward in thought, a pull at his heart to walk outside. He passes a few other soldiers in the hallway, nodding to them with a tiny greeting but unwilling to stop and talk. In only fatigues, König exits the main doors quickly, lightly moving into a jog as his body shivers at the sudden chill touching his arms under the black compression shirt. Under him the snow has grown deeper, the large lights illuminating the almost greenish reflections of the winter landscape of open roads and large buildings.

Curfew was long past—this had to be quick.

Just a check-in, König tells himself as he nears the hospital, his breath puffing in the air. Then I can wipe my hands of it.

He slows as he nears the doors, huffing a breath as he pushes on the barrier, opening it with a squawk of hinges and metal. Entering, the front desk staff looked up at him in surprise, muttering his name in question.

“Katze?” He responds, pushing a hand over his head and feeling the melting snowflakes. His cheeks are a light shade of exposure-red, and inquisitive eyes shift over the two individuals slowly. “What room?”

The pair share a glance and tell him in the same breath. Room ten.

It’s no sooner after that König finds himself there, hand hovering over the handle as the hallway clock ticks beside his right ear. His gray eyes blink at the door, feet shuffling from under him before he clears his throat under his breath, glancing away for a second in hesitation.

Was this appropriate?

König didn’t have an answer, but the pull in his chest was tight and firm—he just needed to see you. A glimpse, nothing more. He raises his fist and raps his knuckles over the wood delicately, three tiny knocks that hit his ears like bullets from a gun; the bullets he’s put into pathetic Al-Qatala bodies and watched burst like sacks of fluid.

He waits, hands going to grasp at his shirt collar, pushing out a low breath to calm himself.

After a long moment, his foot taps the floor, blinking. Again he knocks—a bit louder.

“She is sleeping, you evolutionsbremse,” he utters, accent low and grating. “Leave her alone.” But even if you are, his nerves peek their head over the brimstone wall of his brain.

With his fingers caressing the handle, slowly moved to clutch it fully, swallowing the metal in his grip. König takes a deep breath into his lungs, letting it fill them up. Again, he tells himself, just a check-in.

He twists the doorknob and sets his forearm on the wood, pushing the barrier open.

König moves so that his body makes no noise, even with how large it is as he angles the side of his head through the opening. He finds a large mound of blankets atop the bed—stacked and layered so heavily that he has to blink in surprise at how you can breathe under them; because you were under them.

Gray eyes make out the small sliver of skin peaking out from the side of the bed—fingers—and the top of your forehead near the pillows formed around your skull. Unconsciously, a soft smile works its way over König’s lips until he finds himself chuckling.

“Niedlich,” he mutters, scars over his face shifting as he speaks.

Sighing lowly, König pulls back his head, beginning to close the door once more.

“König…?” Your tiny voice makes him halt like he had in the townhouse.

Eyes wide and lips parted at being caught, the door remains open, only a sliver visible to your vision as your furrowed brows are stuck at the barrier. A red sheen moves across the soldier’s face in a slow sweep of embarrassment that goes bone deep.

With a lick of his lips, König re-opens the door slightly.

“I did not mean to wake you, Katze.” He finds your eyes and nods to you. “I apologize. Go back to sleep—you must be tired.”

“Wait,” you utter, moving your head fully out from under the blankets. König pauses, eyes staring as his other hand comes up to itch at the back of his neck.

“What is it,” the man asks, opening the door fully and moving inside. “Do you need anything?”

The question had hit you in your thin slumber, interrupted only partially by the opening of your door to the familiar pull of gray eyes and a strong build. A buzz-cut head. You take a slow breath to wake yourself up more, watching him from your bed. “...Did you know that I would be in that house?”

König tilts his head at the question, sighing slightly and glancing at the clock inside of the room on your nightstand. He frowns.

“No,” he explains gently, coming closer. “No, I did not. I do not get told such things—only where to shoot and where not to.” The man tries a small smile, kneeling on one leg down by the bed and staring into your sleepy eyes. “But I am glad I found you again, yes? You had me worried.”

“You were worried?” You can’t quite grasp it.

“Ja,” he nods. “Your eyes—they have stuck with me, Schatz, you understand?”

Your eyebrows pull up your face, blinking in shock.

“...Yours, too,” you confess. König’s heart flutters, listening until your lips have fallen still. “They’re very nice, König.”

He goes sheepish, lips flicking up into a smile and his eyes daring away for a moment. “You can thank my mother for them, then.” He chuckles. “I have stolen the family's eyes, I was told.”

You chuckle with him, hand coming to rub at your cheek. A silence falls between the two of you.

“I don’t sleep well,” you tell him in the relative darkness, light from the hallway and your night light illuminating the dips and bone structure of his face. “I was awake when you opened the door.”

He nods after a moment. “Ja.” A pause. “I don’t either…Nightmares?”

You watch him before nodding tinily.

“Ah,” he mutters. “They are not pleasant, I’m sorry that they have been plaguing you. Do you…” König wonders if he should leave—this was far more than he had anticipated. “Do you wish for me to stay?”

Why had he said that?

The string between the two of you tightens evermore, gaining another thread just as it would for the years to come until it became as unbreakable as steel.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” you begin but are quickly interrupted with a shake of a square head and a huff of a sharp nose.

“You are not. Do not call yourself such.” His accent deepens with emotion, eyes narrowing as the dark brows on his face pull in. “If you want me to stay, I will stay. Wake you if you become shaky, yes? Keep the bad dreams at bay.”

“But what about you?” Your voice moves around the room as König stands and goes to the table in the back, shifting one of the chairs so that it’s angled your way. You shift so you can watch him sit back, grunting as his legs move out in front of him, opening so he can be more comfortable. He needed a bigger chair, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

“I’m not tired, Schatz.” A lie. His muscles are heavy, and he longs for his bed in the barracks. He pushes out, “Please, go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

You stare for a long while, studying him and how he fidgets in his seat of choice. A small laugh meets the man’s ears as he crosses his arms over his chest. König pauses, blinking over in confusion. His lips move upwards slowly.

“What are you laughing at, then, hm?”

“You look like you’re about to break it,” you mutter, head nuzzling the pillow under you as fatigue claws its way under your skin.

König huffs, fingers twitching over the meat of his biceps as he slouches. He nods jokingly. “Perhaps,” he shrugs, the window behind him letting a slight tinge of cold air in from outside. “It would not be the first, I’m afraid, though it would be quite the embarrassment to do it in front of you, Katze.” He smirks. “But I’ll say, hitting my head on door frames hurts more than letting my arsch kiss the ground.”

You laugh under your heap, your body jerking to the movement of your lungs.

“I bet,” you say, fingers grasping one of your blankets and pulling it closer. “It’s a funny image.”

“You can laugh all you want,” König jokes, eyes soft as they gaze at you. “It does not bother me.”

Your sweet sounds of amusement waft out from under the crack in the door, where a small group of curious nurses mull and listen with glances to one another. A doctor moves past the hallway where they stand, and all scatter on quick feet.

'…Signed,

[REDACTED]

SUBMITTED: 0517, 25, November 2021

END OF MISSION REPORT ‘RED FREEDOM’

RETURNING TO SELECTION MENU…

STAND BY…'

It’s only after most of the other women leave—sent home to awaiting families or loved ones—that you know your time is coming to a close here in Berlin, Germany. While you’re excited to put this behind you, you can’t help but feel a bit…lost.

There’s something that keeps you here, on this base, until you’re the last out of all of them, waiting. And then you’re given the green light to go—go home—and suddenly you have a backpack full of necessities and you’re closing the door to your room with the little nightlight’s plastic body pushing against your spine. Yet, you stand in the hallway for a long minute, fingers interlocked.

You take a long, deep, breath.

Over the weeks of recovery, König had been a constant companion when he wasn’t needed. He had eased you back into a comfortable state, letting you somewhat lose the black-and-white view you had gained of the world. But there was only so much he could do, even if his soft eyes were still stuck in your dreams—the good ones, of course.

You needed to go home, and, today, the C-17 was whirring on the tarmac, waiting for you to be transported to a military base far from here where you would be processed and, ultimately, let go.

Let go. It was jarring to think about, all of that freedom. What would you do with it? Right now, you don’t have the faintest clue. It was the best feeling you can remember having.

Smiling, you take one last look at the room behind you and walk on.

At the entrance, you say a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to the nurses and doctors in broken German, shaking their hands as Eva kisses your forehead and whispers how happy she is to have had you here for such little time—you know what she means and you chuckle with her at the double-edged sword.

König waits by the door, holding it open with…you blink at the item in his hands as well as his sudden appearance. Canvas fabric. A coat.

The coat.

“I had to have it processed,” he says, smiling as you gape at him. “Very long process. It was found in the closet in the townhouse.”

“Then why are you handing it to me,” you ask, tilting your head and walking closer.

“I gave it to you, did I not?” The man hums, head tilting as he motions with it again. “It’s a good coat, Katze. Winters get cold.” Gray eyes crinkle gently. “I would hate for you to shiver, wherever it is that you end up, yes?”

You shake your head, cheeks hot. But your hands don’t hesitate to grasp the item, König’s hold on it remains fast, though, and you blink at him as you both keep it gently clasped like it’s worth its weight in gold.

König stares at you, the door still kept open behind him. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment as you tilt your head.

“Keep it safe for me,” is what he ends with, but his expression tells you he’s not talking about the coat.

It makes your arms tingle—your heart skips a beat.

“I’ll be sure it never gets lost,” you smile warmly, eyes malleable as the make of their color glints. There is a connection to this man that transcends words, and it is tied to you just as heavily as it is to him; unexplainable, incomprehensible, non-describable.

Enigmatic.

König’s reverential face is soft with care.

“Good,” he mutters, unable to look away. “Very good.”

Clearing his throat, his grays dart to the floor, shifting his feet to move backward. He pushes open the door wider for you, and you hold your backpack in one hand as you shift past him and slip into his coat.

It was exactly how you remembered it, and you sank into the fabric with a thankful sigh and a fluttering of your lashes. You shift the bag back over your shoulders, letting the straps fall into the bulk of the extra material.

The snow wasn’t falling today, and the ground was shoveled of any white powder too. On the air, you can hear the whir of the C-17.

König comes up beside you, a hand hovering over the small of your back as he guides you along. For the most part, the walk to the tarmac is silent with the weight of the future. You had no phone. No socials. You didn’t even know if you wanted any, to be honest. Your mind had convinced you that a good bout of soul-searching was exactly what you needed. And you had to do that alone.

Your lips are thin as your legs take you closer to the plane, König’s scent stuck into the stitches of the coat and covered your senses.

At the ramp, he stops as your feet take you onto the metal. Closing your eyes for a moment, you turn and lock gazes with him—gray hiding away what other, more human, emotions to be found. It was a slate of carefully crafted acceptance, and your own followed soon after.

It had to be this. The string wouldn’t break, no, but it had to be stretched to such a point to come back stronger.

“Thank—”

“Don’t,” he says, not blinking, looking up at you.

You smile. “What do you want me to say, then?”

“You don’t have to say anything to me.” You hadn't known it then, but the both of you had truly thought that this would be the last of your meetings. It produced a pulse in both of your hearts that would never be told aloud. “....Live well,” König utters. “Heal, Mein Schatz.”

The soldier wasn't one to give his chances to hope.

Your eyes follow as he backs up, moving away as you stare. In his head, König pleads with you to stop and give him a reprieve from the hypnosis of your gaze, the addictive movement of your head as it tilts to the side.

Live well.

You send him a smile, a delicate thing, and then you back up a step and turn, disappearing into the darkness.

The string follows, and it continues to do so even as your hands slip into your pockets hours later, bumping into the small form of a black flip phone. The note hidden inside of it.

‘For whenever you find what you’re looking for.’

'REQUEST FOR ADMINISTRATIVE DISCHARGE

REQUESTED BY: [REDACTED]

ENTERED: DECEMBER 15, 2021

TIME: 1422

OPEN FILE?...

REQUEST CANCELED….

RETURNING TO FILE SELECT MENU…

FILE SELECTED….

TRANSLATING…

STAND BY…

REQUEST OF HONORABLE ADMINISTRATIVE DISCHARGE OF [REDACTED] APPROVED ON JANUARY 2, 2022

OPEN FILE?...

REQUEST CANCELED…

SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN'

You sit in a coffee shop in Berlin, Germany, by the window. It wasn’t just any coffee shop, but you try not to think about all of that. It was all in the past—three years, now. You like to think you’d learned something in that time.

“Danke schön,” you say to the woman who brings you your drink, nodding kindly. You take a small sip, humming and winking at her teasingly. “Perfekt.”

She chuckles, wiping her hands on her apron. “Möchten Sie noch etwas anderes dazu?”

“Nein, nein,” you shake your head, waving a hand that soft bumps the flip phone on the table. “Danke.”

The lady walks away, and you take another sip of the hot beverage, never put off by the heat.

It was winter again, and your eyes followed the flakes as they fell from a cloudy sky, finding the beauty in it easily as you sat inside. The scarf around your neck is loose—your gifted coat open. You smile to yourself and hum, watching people walk past outside, thinking about their lives and how they live them.

A large form travels out from a shop across the street, a plastic bag in his loose grip. He was not small, no, this man was a beast of height and strength alike. The loping, canid-like, walk was accented by the twitch of his fingers over his quarry.

Your wide eyes stay stuck to him for a long moment as he moves to the crosswalk, people shifting out of his way as he ignores them. Familiarity strikes like lighting—a buzz down your spine that leaves you straightening.

After a long moment, a breathless laugh sneaks out of you.

There were just some things that people were never meant to understand.

Your hand places your cup back on the table, picking up the old flip phone and pushing it open. Your thumb runs the keypad, moving to the only contact that had ever been entered into the device.

Pressing, you move it to your ear as you watch with a soft expression, heart pattering.

Across the way, the man tenses, hand patting his leg before the other hand moves inside his pocket and shifts the item out. People walk away, moving to the other side of the crosswalk as he stares at the contact.

A minute passes, and all the while you hold your breath.

He presses and moves the phone to his ear, staying as still as stone. As still as a man afraid his hood might scare a group of terrified women.

His voice graces your ear.

“...Katze?” You beam, trapped in the warmth of the coat around your shoulders.

“How do you feel about coffee, König?”

Blue-gray eyes had never been more beautiful than when they snapped up to meet yours.

TAGS:

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imagine-you · 4 months ago

Text

won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]

Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.

closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read on AO3

Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.

You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.

Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.

"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.

You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.

"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"

You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.

You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.

"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."

"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."

"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.

"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."

Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”

"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.

"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.

Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"

"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.

You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.

"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"

You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.

"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.

No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.

You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.

It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.

If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.

"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.

You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.

Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.

You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.

"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."

You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."

"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."

You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.

"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.

You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.

"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.

"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."

You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.

"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.

"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.

"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.

Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.

You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.

You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.

"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.

"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.

"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"

"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."

"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.

"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.

You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.

"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.

"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."

You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.

Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.

Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.

He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.

"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.

"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.

Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.

Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.

Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.

"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.

Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.

"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.

"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.

"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.

"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."

"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.

When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.

Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.

Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.

You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.

You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.

You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.

Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.

"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.

You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.

"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.

"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.

"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"

You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.

"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.

It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.

"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.

"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.

"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.

"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.

You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.

"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.

You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.

Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.

"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.

Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.

Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.

Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."

"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.

Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.

"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.

"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"

"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.

Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.

You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.

"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"

Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.

"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.

"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.

"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.

"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"

"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.

"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.

"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"

"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."

"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."

"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.

You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.

When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.

The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.

"I'm in," you found yourself saying.

"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"

"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."

"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."

“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”

"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.

"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.

You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.

Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.

He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.

You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.

"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."

You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."

Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.

"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."

"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.

"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."

"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."

You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.

His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."

Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.

You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.

You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.

"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.

You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.

"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.

It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.

You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.

"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.

The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.

You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.

Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.

By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.

You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.

"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.

"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.

"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."

Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.

You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."

"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.

This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.

You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.

The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.

You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.

You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.

He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.

You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.

“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.

“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.

The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.

You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.

“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.

Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.

"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.

"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.

"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.

"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."

He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.

But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.

"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.

"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.

You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.

"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.

"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”

"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.

A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.

"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."

“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”

“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”

It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.

You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.

You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.

Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.

Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.

You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.

You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.

You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.

From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.

"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.

You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.

Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!

This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan x reader #deadpool #wolverine #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #logan #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine imagine #x men #my fic #x reader #imagine #marvel x reader #spoilers #when i'm with you i'm home 'verse

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 1 year ago

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?

Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3

A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3

The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.

“W-WHAT?!”

“Married? No way,” Hobie says.

“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.

“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.

Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.

“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.

“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”

“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.

“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.

“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.

“Not by choice,” he mutters.

“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”

“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.

“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.

“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.

“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.

Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.

“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.

“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.

“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.

“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.

Gwen gasps, “Really?”

“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.

“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.

“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.

“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.

“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.

“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.

“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.

He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”

“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”

At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.

“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.

Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.

“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”

You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”

“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.

“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.

“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.

“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.

“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.

He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”

“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.

“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.

“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.

“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.

“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.

“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.

“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.

There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.

Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.

“Hi!” Gwen starts.

“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”

“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.

You just find yourself laughing at it all though.

“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.

“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”

“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”

Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.

“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”

“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.

“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.

“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”

You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.

As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.

No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.

“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.

Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.

“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.

“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.

“One question,” he says simply with a nod.

“How long have you two been together?”

“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.

“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.

“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.

“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.

“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.

“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”

“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.

On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.

You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.

“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.

“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.

“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.

“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.

“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.

“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.

“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.

Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.

“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.

“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.

“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.

With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.

Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.

Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.

“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.

There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.

“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.

“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.

“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.

You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.

Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.

“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.

You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.

“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.

“I know,” you whisper.

“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.

You can’t do anything but laugh.

Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel

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luvsupa · 5 months ago

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“SHALL WE RESUME, MY LADY?”

tags: heianera!sukuna, trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, kissing, servants are bullies :(, BLOOD + KILLING, smut-ish (?), ANGST, readers called little one, my lady, my queen, sukuna lovessss reader but doesn’t wanna show it.

w.c: 1.8k

a/n:ITS BEEN LONG SINCE I WROTE PART 3 FOR SUKUNAAA, so pls read (part 1 + part 2) to understand this :p (or don’t 😔)

-part 1 was my first ever story so pls don’t mind the terrible writing 🤕

+ likes and reblogs are appreciative!!

for weeks now, since your intimate encounter with sukuna in his chambers, his words have echoed relentlessly in your mind:

“you belong to me, mind, body, and soul.”

unable to shake his haunting assertion, you find yourself lost in a fog during your duties, drawing the king’s scorn for your clumsiness—pathetic, he silently judges.

you’ve been desperately trying to avoid sukuna, feeling his ominous presence lurking near the servants’ quarters, dangerously close to your room. each night, you pretend to be asleep, hoping he won’t enter.

uraume and the other servants and concubines have noticed your distraction, their whispers and spiteful glances intensifying your growing distress.

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, walking towards the grand kitchen, you feel yourself being harshly pushed—nearly losing your balance. you turn to face the two brunettes who always accompany sukuna in his chambers.

“look at her,” one sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. “she looks even more pitiful than usual. you’d think she’d try harder, especially with tomorrow’s annual gift-giving ceremony.”

your heart drops, and you feel the blood drain from your face as the realization hits you—you had completely forgotten about it. shit.

the other brunette catches your expression and smirks, leaning closer.

“oh, you did not know?” she mocks, her eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. “did you truly forget? lost in your own little world? pathetic. do not think sukuna-sama has not noticed your incompetence. if i were you, i would be prepared to face his wrath tomorrow.”

before you can respond, the brunettes walk away, laughing cruelly amongst themselves. fear grips you as you stand there, contemplating the consequences of your forgetfulness. this time, he might seek to end my life.

sukuna spared your life once before, but now? you’ve truly done it.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

morning arrives, finding you sleepless and anxious, having spent the night wrestling with decisions on what gift would appease the king of curses. regret gnaws at you—you could have been better prepared.

if only you had listened to uraume’s instructions, you wouldn’t be scrambling now to please sukuna.

a loud groan escapes you, not just from lacking a suitable offering but from the impending threat of losing your life in front of everyone.

your thoughts shatter as your door creaks open. uraume enters, carrying a basket laden with ceremonial attire.

“sukuna-sama will return soon from his mission,” uraume states matter-of-factly, approaching your bedside and handing you the basket. your gaze fixes on the black and gold kimono. “in the meantime, prepare your gift for our king,” they remind you, prompting your heart to skip a beat. you nod gratefully as uraume exits the room.

you linger, captivated by the elegance of the wooden basket. slowly, an idea begins to take shape.

i hope this idea will work…

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you hurriedly slip into the black and gold kimono uraume handed you, the fabric draping elegantly over your curves as you smooth out its silk folds.

grabbing the basket, you rush out of your room, navigating through the crowded hallways filled with servants, concubines, and guards all preparing to present their gifts to the king.

anxiety grips you as the chatter rises, signaling the ceremony may have already begun. finally reaching the garden, you drop to your knees, swiftly gathering orchids, red camellias, and wisterias.

heart pounding, you carefully arrange the brightly coloured flowers in the basket, leaving space for more. glancing around the vast garden for inspiration, you freeze as you spot a familiar figure in the distance, surrounded by guards and soldiers.

shit.

your pulse quickens as sukuna approaches the estate. you force yourself to calm down, needing clarity to finish your task.

turning to the fruit garden, you ignore the dirt on your kimono as you hurriedly gather peaches, oranges, and pomegranates from the trees, arranging them neatly in the basket.

with your last-minute gift finally perfected, you hope he will at least appreciate the effort. as cheers and applause erupt, signaling sukuna’s arrival, you hasten back to join the line of gift-givers, heart still racing with fear.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the ceremony unfolds in a chamber unfamiliar to you, far larger than sukuna’s usual domain, filled with hundreds and hundreds of servants seated on comfortable cushions, rows of expectant faces awaiting the ceremony’s commencement.

as you wait nervously, you glance around at the lavish offerings others have brought—paintings, gleaming gold jewelry, fine silk robes, ancient artifacts, perfumes, and oils. in contrast, your basket of fruits and flowers seems painfully simple.

whispers and snickers ripple through the crowd, directed at your low-value gift, almost insulting to the king, as the laughter grew louder and more pointed. the embarrassment increases, now overwhelming you.

“silence.”

his voice cuts through the room like thunder, instantly quieting the chatter as all heads bow. only you remain defiantly gazing at sukuna from his elevated throne. he looks magnificent, his towering frame draped in a dark cotton robe that accentuates his scarlet eyes—those unsettling eyes that draw you in despite your fear.

“do you consider yourself more worthy than others to not bow?”

his voice pierces through you, shocking you out of your thoughts. you hadn’t realized you were staring at him so openly. a nearby servant nudges your head down forcefully, a silent command to acknowledge sukuna’s authority.

uraume then signals the first row to approach sukuna with their gifts. as he settles into his throne, one of his lower eye fixates on you with a chilling intensity, reminding you of the difference of ground upon which you stand.

the two brunettes, who supposedly despised you, were the first to present their gifts. all eyes watched as they offered lavish amounts of gold and diamonds to sukuna. you couldn’t help but notice the satisfaction that spread across his face, a subtle amusement evident as he casually placed the gift with one of lower arms behind him.

they took their places on either side of his throne, making way for the next in line. as the line shortened, your turn approached rapidly.

you watched with nervous anticipation as sukuna accepted one of the servants gifts— the beautifully sculpted artifacts and golden treasures—

slash!

the servant’s head was cleanly severed, a loud thud echoing through the room. gasps filled the air as the shock spread through the assembled crowd. some of the seasoned servants were used to sukuna’s impulsive acts, but this was the first time you had witnessed such brutality. blood splattered across his face, yet he remained unfazed, awaiting the next offerings.

you covered your mouth, stifling a scream of horror. the fear of becoming the next victim intensified as you compared your gift to the high valued gift he had just received.

how could he appreciate your offering if he did not enjoy the artifacts?

you were on edge, continuously hearing numerous slash and thuds that kept racing your heart. his gaze seemed to linger on you, intensifying your dread.

unaware that it was your turn next, you suddenly found yourself on the elevated floor, your gift clearly visible to all below. laughter erupted among the watching servants, their anticipation of your downfall.

you felt all four of his eyes fixated on you, observing your trembling form, your eyes flickering nervously as you struggled to stay composed. stepping cautiously over a puddle of blood, you nervously approached his throne.

with trembling hands, you presented the basket of flowers and fruits. below, the two brunettes knelt, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.

sukuna silently observed the basket, his large hands delicately holding the tiny fruits. he plucked out peaches, pomegranates, and oranges with two hands while the other two hands carefully examined the flowers, bringing them to his nose to inhale their earthly fragrance. then, to your surprise, sukuna’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“little one,” he said in a low velvety voice that sent shivers down your spine. “you surprise me.”

the crowd exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain of how to interpret sukuna’s unexpected reaction. the two kneeling servants looked up at sukuna in disbelief, their faces turning pale as they realized their own gifts, despite their value, had not elicited such a response.

sukuna carefully placed everything back into the basket, then lifted a ripe peach to his lips. his intense gaze locked onto yours as he took a deliberate bite, savouring the sweetness. loudly humming at the sweet taste.

unexpectedly, two of sukuna’s free hands reached out and gently grabbed your waist. you squealed in surprise at the sudden contact as sukuna swiftly spun you around, placing you on his lap with your back is against his chest. his third hand delicately tilted your chin, looking up towards him.

“‘kuna…” you began, mindlessly calling him by a forbidden nickname. but his lips cut off your words in a hungry kiss. the taste of peach lingered on his lips, blending with the sweet intensity of the moment. his kiss was fierce, brimming with a raw passion.

sukuna’s large hand snakes up to the crevice of your neck, and to your surprise, another mouth formed on his hand, trailing down to suck and kiss a sensitive spot on your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by his kiss, and he grinned at your reaction.

the brunettes stared up at the two of you with utter jealousy, never having received such intimacy from their king. the entire room gaped in shock; they had never witnessed the king of curses succumb so readily to a mere servant.

sukuna then pulls away, leaving you dizzy from the closeness. his presence seems to envelop you, making you feel intoxicated by his mere touch. with a gentle touch, sukuna adjusts your slouched posture, his hands holding you firmly against his broad chest. leaning down, he kisses your ear softly.

“you will judge which gift is worthy,” he begins, his closeness making your head spin even more. “if anything displeases you, I will take care of it,” he murmurs, hinting at even more slashes. another hand snaking up to your neck, softly applying pressure to restore your stability.

if anything you feel a rush of arousal.

“i will obey your every command, my queen. i am yours to command,” he declares softly, causing you to whimper in response. gasps fill the room as they witness the king of curses submitting himself to you.

“shall we resume, my lady?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #heian sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna angst

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weaselle · 2 years ago

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i wanna do a thing where i lay out studies that show things in different primates that show us parts of ourselves as humans. Call it Primates: Through the Looking Glass or The Monkey in the Mirror or something

There are studies and documentaries that show things about Gorillas, Chimpanzees, Bonobos, Baboons, Macaques... that just make sense to me. That if shown right would make sense to a lot of people, i think.

like... they were studying this one group of gorillas --

okay wait. First of all, you know a silverback (the Big Male) of the group is not the leader or in charge or anything, right? He has a role, and it includes a certain amount of control, which i’ll explain briefly, but he’s not, like, in charge.

wait, you know all that Dominance/Alpha theory about wolves is all wrong, right?

wait wait wait, and also that like, the bull or the stag or whatever in a herd is not in charge of anything, right? right?

hold on. the wolves is it’s own post, the herd thing i might get back to, we’re on gorillas, okay. Silverback is basically just the male head of an extended family in which plenty of the leadership is handled by the women of the family.

There are often 2-4 silverbacks, but one, usually the largest, will clearly be senior to the others who are often his sons or brothers. Silverbacks have three main roles

1: defend the group from all physical threats aside from people, these threats are mostly random male gorillas, chimpanzee baby-snatching gangs, and the occasional leopard. Just his alert presence handles most scenarios, and then maybe a few times a year he has to risk his life fulfilling this responsibility. It is this role that provides most of whatever actual power he has over the group, namely this: while he isn’t necessarily the one deciding when and where the group goes on a daily basis, if the most powerful/capable silverback does decide to travel a direction, they pretty much have to go with him, the family isn’t safe without him.

2: make babies. And this is one area where the ladies of the group will sometimes sort of vote with their ovaries, and favor a silverback that isn’t the main one, like “yeah, Frank, you are the biggest, but honestly you’re a dick and we’re going to make sure the next generation of silverbacks isn’t another one of you.” When you see a main large silverback in a group of gorillas, it isn’t, like, his blindly loyal harem, they have to approve of him. Also gorilla females move between groups, and sometimes they take members with them or start new groups and stuff. Anyway i’m getting off track, one of the silverbacks jobs is making babies

3. keep the peace This functions a lot like being in the back seat with your siblings with your parents up front. Basically any disputes within the group have to be handled within a certain parameter of decorum, because if it gets too out of hand HE’s going to come over, and He’ll be upset, which is low-key terrifying because He’s huge, and there’s no telling who He’ll decide is at fault or what he’ll do about it, so letting a situation get out of hand is a losing scenario for everyone involved really. Tho typically he will favor senior females in disputes, in a “don’t you talk that way to your mom” kind of way.

one last thing, silverbacks don’t actually transfer power between silverbacks via battle every time.

Like i was just reading accounts from a multi-generational observational study of some wild gorillas that featured one big silverback just straight up taking over by performing the silverback duties better and becoming preferred by everyone else in the group. There was no fight, it just became, i do the job better, everyone likes me better, kicking my ass can’t change that, and boom, he was the primary silverback. And the other silverback might have been a bit dull, or a bit of a bully, but like us their species’ success is largely dependent on social intelligence; once he saw the writing on the wall, that other, slightly larger sivlerback didn’t even bother trying to change the situation with a physical fight, he understood what had happened.

okay so all that was just to tell you all this story. lol. Here’s what i saw in one documentary:

This very big, getting old silverback, who was hugely popular and successful, with a very large and tightly bonded family group, and a couple of his hulking adult sons backing him up. Everybody in his group seemed to love him a lot, he was particularly calm in that gentle giant sort of way, a safe, emotionally steady presence, happy to help raise his sons and daughters with kindness, and who could become a raging nightmare if pressed by a leopard ... exactly what a band of gorillas wants in a silverback.

But one of his adult sons had plenty of silver on his own back, and was getting itchier and itchier to be main man of the group, and this is where we start our little drama

It seems to be coming to a head, and the observers are nervous about a fight for the position. The silverback and his son are both are huge, probably approaching 400lbs, mostly muscle, with long thick fangs and skulls topped with jaw muscles as big as human biceps to wield those teeth, which nature has given them primarily to fight other gorillas with.

But then the next day, the old man leads the fam up the mountain.

it’s winter, which is why they have come down the mountain in the first place. But as we discussed, if he goes somewhere, they have to go, so they all follow behind.

up he goes, and then he sits. And waits. It’s cold and there is much less food up here at this time of year. There’s nothing to do but sit hungry in the cold. His size and metabolism makes him the most able to withstand the cold, but even he is pretty uncomfortable.

And so he sits. And his family, perhaps confused, but loyal, sits around him.

But his son, the other huge silverback, with years of training even as an adult under his wise father, is ready and able to go off on his own. Finally, he stands up, makes clear his intentions to leave this uncomfortable place. A small handful of the other gorillas stand with him -- if he goes down the mountain, then they can safely leave as well. He turns and heads down the mountain. After a moment, a few more gorillas leave the main group to follow. All in all it winds up being nearly half.

The wise older silverback thoughtfully watches his son leave with about half the group. He sits a while longer in the cold, in the company of those most loyal to him, and then takes them along a different path down the mountain

And those two groups still ran into each other sometimes, and were friendly. And sometimes a couple gorillas would change between the two groups. They were still close.

But i just thought that was such an elegant, meaningful way for that gorilla to handle that whole situation. And it makes a completely human sort of sense to me.

#science and nature #gorillas #primates

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madaqueue · 2 months ago

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TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH

the weight that lies in a pinky promise

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)

a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic

Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.

He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.

And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.

The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.

“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.

“Hi.”

When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.

(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)

(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)

Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.

“Did that hurt?”

Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”

“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”

And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”

Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.

You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.

Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.

A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.

You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).

When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.

“Can I make it better?”

It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.

So, you nod.

Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.

“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”

“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.

“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”

Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.

“I’m Suguru, by the way.”

He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.

A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.

“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.

“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”

Expectant eyes meet yours.

“Promise me I’ll see you again?”

This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.

“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.

Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”

He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.

It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.

And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.

It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.

“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.

From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.

“Yes.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.

Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.

“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.

And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.

“Yes.”

Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”

The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.

Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.

It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.

It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.

You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.

“Are you okay?”

Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”

Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.

With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.

“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.

Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.

Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.

Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.

The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.

Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.

It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.

You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.

The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.

You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.

You miss when he was warm.

Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?

He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.

You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.

“Suguru?”

His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.

“Are you okay?”

He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.

You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.

Would you promise?

On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.

He can’t.

When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.

Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.

Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”

As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.

You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.

(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)

Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.

When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.

You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.

That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.

Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.

“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.

His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”

“You’re really strong, y’know that?”

Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”

Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.

“Suguru?”

You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.

“Yeah?”

His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.

Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“I love you.”

You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”

#not 100% happy with this one but i've been editing it for a week and if i don't post it now i never will!!!!!!#q writes #oneshot #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk geto #geto fluff

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bitchlessdino · 1 month ago

Text

stolen entries (m)

airing: fem!Reader x stalker!joshua

Genre: thriller, smut, stalking au

Word count: 10k

tags: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T FOLLOW IN THE READERS FOOTSTEPS AND STAY SAFE. rated R for life RUINING, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND READ WARNINGS TO AVOID ANY TRIGGERING SUBJECTS, stalking, wrong just very morally black!joshua, dark imagery including but not limited to: implied and mentions of murder/threat, mentions of manipulation, mentions of blood, window sex and implied fear of falling out, possessive!joshua, pet names (angel, darling, ect), hair pulling, spanking, blowjobs/cunnilingus with consumption, face fucking, degradation, praise kink

Summary: Diary entries of a man in love. Joshua knew he loved you the moment he laid his eyes on you and had to have you, even if it meant enduring the echoes of every intimate detail of every sexual encounter you’d had before him. But he knew you were worth the wait. He was worth the wait.

author note: thank you @diamonddaze01 @wongyuseokie @tomodachiii @miabebe for betareading! mental health is great thank you for asking, im really excited to have been working on this and everyone involved in betaing have been so incredibly helpful. i hope yall enjoy and thank you again for your patience. <3

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae

Entry #3 - November 30th: White suits you.

You look so perfect the way you do. Perfect in white. Perfect in lace. Perfect. Perfect. Forgive me, darling, for being redundant. But that’s all you look to me. Perfect.

What wasn’t perfect was who you had in your room.

How perfectly imperfect.

But what was perfect was those sounds. So lewd. So perfect. Decadent. Enchanting you are, my dear. I wish I had been the reason for those sounds, but for now, I can only live vicariously through November 30th. He will only be known as November 30th. He doesn't deserve a name.

But, in a way, I should thank him. He’s satiating you now. He’s getting you ready for me as I’m getting ready for you.

Be patient, my sweet.

Entry #15 - December 15th: You like how it hurts.

I don’t like this one. He’s rude. Doesn’t even open the door for you. Doesn’t say thank you or please when he asks for something. Just dumps you into bed like you’re a ragdoll.

For some reason, you like that. You like that it hurts. You like it so much you scream his name. I’m forced to learn it.

Seokmin.

Seokmin. Seokmin. Seokmin.

Awful name. Awful on the tongue. I’d be better on the tongue.

But instead, he’s striking you. And I see red. In more ways than one. And you should be in agony, and I’d rescue you. But you’re laughing. You’re begging for more. You’re not fighting him to stop. You enjoy it too much.

So I’m watching again. But I’m not gonna like it. I don't like him.

But you like it. That’s what matters. I despise December 15th—what he does to you, how much you like it, and how much I could do so much better.

Entry #32 - January 1st: You like to teach.

Happy New Year, darling. You started off with someone young. Someone talkative. An amateur. You’re drunk, however, so I'm sure you’ll regret it in the morning.

But for now, you’re enjoying yourself yet again, and by god is it messy. He’s very messy. He touches you like he’s never had experience before, and you let him. I should resent you, but in no way can. You’re precious. My experimental little darling. I’m addicted to you. I must have you, and neither this Chan, Seokmin, nor Jeonghan can stop me.

But for now, I'm grateful the boy cut it short. Like the late bloomer is. How incompetent. But you made it a teaching opportunity. You’re quite good at it. And you made the boy work to your advantage. That’s so sexy. So you. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re also clever. Just like I knew you’d be. January 1st is a good kid. But he should stay in his lane before I push him into one.

Entry #45 January 13th: Dirty talk is a must.

This one is rather peculiar. Overly confident. And rather…annoying. Like a puppy without a leash. Drunk on ego and hard liquor with names I don’t even bother to pronounce. He’s pretentious and it’s clear in the way he undresses himself for you.

He treats you like he’s the only man in the world, and you’re simply beneath him, but I know you’re so much more. Yet, you encourage it. You encourage his… delusion that he’s this outstanding work of art.

You love how he narrates, how he talks to you as if you’re incompetent—degrading even—and you egg him on. “Good girl” this, “bad slut” that. It’s contradictory, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You get off on such obscenity. You’re euphoric from it. Although I hate to do such a thing and call you rancid names, I’ll have to ponder more creative versions.

Nonetheless, you like a bit of chatter, don’t you? Well, January 13th will have nothing on me, my little Angel.

Entry #78 - February 15th: You can keep going until you’re in ruin.

You’ve had a lonely month, and I do apologize, my darling, especially since it’s partially my fault. It is not my time just yet to have you. I must discipline myself first. Condition myself to cater to your every whim. And you have a lot of them.

You’re greedy. This one was utterly restless, I almost felt bad. His stamina had nothing on yours, darling, and I see that you can bite more than you can chew. You’re insatiable. I lost track of the hours that night. My knees, scraped raw and red against the rough concrete floor, as I stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting for you to finish, which you did. Again. Again. Again. Again.

I was starting to abhor this February 15th. What country did he save in his past life that earned him such devoted attention? Was he just that amazing? Did he make you 1000% satisfied? Would I have to kill him for that kind of love? Skin him and string him up like Christmas lights? It would be nice to prepare for the holidays early, wouldn’t it?

I’ll refrain for now. For your sake. But to keep up with you, my condition needs to multiply tenfold. I need to be able to be ready. Do what I need to to make indubitably and utterly mine.

M I N E.

Entry # 124 - April 1st: Toys are for adults too.

The joke was on me thinking you’ve changed your ways. Making love, or should I say primal sex, seemed to be something in the back of your head, but that wasn’t the case.

Instead, you fucked someone. A comedian nonetheless, and after he had finished his stand-up. You sat your pretty ass on the stool beside him, twirling your pretty strands of hair, batting your pretty lashes on that pretty face of yours. Just because it was April Fool's day doesn't mean you had to be the fool, my love. That was reckless.

But I suppose I learned something about you. Something you like in bed that you haven’t exhibited in others is that although you love a good laugh, it wasn’t fit for the bedroom. Sometimes, toys aren’t just a trickster's accessory but a vixen’s too. They are just simply different. Distinctly different.

Though a comedian’s job is to speak, you had him—well—gagged. Ball-gagged, no less. That was... intriguing. Enticing, to say the least, and you turned the whole performance into something far more captivating. There’s always something new I’m learning about you, love. And I can’t wait to show you what I’m capable of when I finally get my hands on you—and your toys.

Entry # 200 - June 14th: You could do it anywhere.

Keeping up with your summer antics wasn’t easy. Considering every precaution I’ve taken and every obstacle I’ve faced, I did everything from double-checking flight numbers to calculating the perfect distance to stay hidden. If only you could appreciate my efforts, love. I had to make sure my hiding place remained undetected—always just far enough to stay out of sight, but close enough to ensure your safety.

And while I thought a vacation with your family was the last place you’d do looking, you wound up somehow in your brother’s best friend’s bed. Seungcheol, was it? You really have no fear, do you? All while your family was all downstairs, you were getting your desserts while everyone was preparing for dinner, wondering where you were.

Or when it was time to go down by the beach and you had a little adventure in the dressing room of ‘Martha’s Swimsuit Boutique.’ The employees blamed the sounds on the old building fixtures or whatever was happening next door, but I knew what was happening in there. Hell, every person with working ears knew what was happening in there.

Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to forget you, to stop loving you, to forget you and how much you’ve hurt me. But I can't. No matter how much I want to or how many times I try, you're in my blood now. You're in my head, under my skin, and I can't rip you out. I don’t even want to.

You’re a part of me I can’t remove, like a vital organ. I just want you. I need you. I breathe you. If you want to do so much, I would take you right there on the dining table and wouldn’t care who watched, just to please you. Feel, taste, pound every part of you, from the red in your veins to cum that would flood in between my gums.

I D O N T K N O W H O W M U C H L O N G E R I C A N W A I T.

Entry # 237 - July 20th: At the end of the day, you want love too.

There’s no need to cry. He was never meant to have you is all. I must commend your brother. He beat that boy harder than I expected him to, but then again I would do a lot worse.

He didn’t deserve to have your heart. He was an idiot. I would never be like him. And you’ll realize that soon enough.

I would show you so much more. I can be so much more. I am so much more. My darling, I would travel to the next galaxy to have you, give you all that you desire, and make it so that the only tears you shed are the ones in bed when I prove to you how much you’re mine as much as I am yours.

Entry # 242 - July 25th: Today is the day.

Preemptively, I decided to go with a scent you’re familiar with. You've held out for weeks, even months, since your miraculous escape on July 20th. You’re stronger now, more confident, self-assured. very mindful, very demure. I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist saying it—just like you’ve repeated since locking yourself away. It’s cute, really. This whole ‘recovery’ thing, it suits you.

It’s like you were made to pique my interest and appetite. Even right now, as you’re outside the window of this restaurant, unsure if you want to enter because this was the one you’d frequent so often with him. Your favorite place to be since you were a little one.

I still can’t believe you decided to move back home. As if he hadn’t hurt you enough, you breathe the air he does? Watching him engage with the pretty blonde on his arm will not heal you, my sweet Angel. It is wrecking you. You should’ve left when you had planned to then.

I picked up my life and ran after you because I worried so much. I worried what would happen if I weren’t around to be with you. To make sure you’re okay. But I won’t have to anymore.

Today, I pretended to pick up a book you dropped to make eye contact with you, slipping a secret message I left on a Post-it inside. I hope you read it. I hope you reciprocate. And if you don’t, it had been all for nothing.

I’d be nothing.

Entry # 243 - July 26th: I love you.

You answered back, just like I thought you would.

“Hi :)” you said, with that cute emoji thing you do. How adorable.

For a moment I was worried, you wouldn’t but only a moment I promise. I would never doubt you. I have entire faith in you, you’d realize what this is. The fire I have burning for you.

I’m glad you’re giving us the chance to realize what we’re meant to be. I can’t wait for our first date. I’m so excited, I don’t even know what to write for today. I just want to live in the bliss of knowing that you finally see me. See me.

Entry # 244 - July 27th: You couldn't wait, and I almost gave in.

You tried kissing me. Put your hand on my thigh. Brushing against my–

I can’t be impatient. This journey can’t be rushed. No matter how much I want to push your head into the mattress and split you in half as you’re calling out my name.

The sooner I give in, the easier it is to make me a rebound. And I am no rebound.

I am meant to be your eternal. Your other half. Your perfect opposite.

Sleeping with you as soon as tonight would’ve tainted our beginning. You mean so much more to me than that.

Just know I want you so bad. I want to get to know you. I want to see you. For our future to start, we need to start this off right. You’ve signed up for a slow burn, my darling.

We are worth the wait.

Entry # 255 - August 7th: I love you more than I realize.

We are so good together. Even if the bag boy decides to flirt with you in front of me, and even if you entertain it a little, thinking I wouldn’t see.

You’re trying to punish me for being disciplined. It’s funny. The things I could do to punish you for testing my patience. Don’t pretend to be all innocent when you bend your ass towards me, leaning up against the conveyer belt to show off both your…assets. Give a show to me and that loud vest-wearing scum.

You think you’re so clever. So sneaky. And maybe you are. You’ve made quite the effort to conceal the truth about your previous relations. I like to think you’re doing it for me. For my sake. Because you’re so considerate. But I know the truth my darling. I know all I need to know about you. But I appreciate your efforts.

You really do love me. And somehow, I love you even more.

Entry # 297 - September 18th: You miss him.

You saw him today, and although you hid it, I could see it in your eyes. You miss him still. Like he was a scar etched into you, or a blood stain that was impossible to get out.

Did I have to kill him to rid you of thoughts of him? End your suffering by ending his life. It would be easy. So so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so easy.

I just can’t stand the way you look at him. A mere boy when a man like me is beside you.

Making you wait feels almost impossible now. Who the hell am I kidding? I’m the one who's waiting.

I just had to do one last thing before. Just one more thing. By then it would be final. And it would just be us. Forever.

You had been seeing Joshua for just a few months, but he was different from the guys you’ve met before. A genuinely good guy. Gentlemanly, even. You found it cute and maybe hot–absolutely hot. Nothing more attractive than knowing a man can keep his hands to himself.

But now, you found yourself wondering if he had not initiated because of something else. Since you’ve met, he’s always been the perfect gentleman, polite and thoughtful in a refreshing and frustrating way. It’s rare to meet a man who doesn’t leap at the chance to get you into bed, and while you found his restraint enticing and irresistible, it also left you questioning whether he’s just being courteous—or if he’s doing it on purpose to ward you off.

You’ve given Joshua every hint imaginable. The thong peeking out from your jeans when you bent over, the casual unbuttoning of your top whenever his eyes drifted your way—each move deliberate, strategic. You even threw in your signature look, those smoldering eyes that always did the trick, scanning his body as if you could ravage him whole, and you would. It had a flawless track record. Until Joshua, that is.

It made you want him more. Like he was making you wait, beg for his attention. Made you forget for a moment you were crying over Seungcheol some time ago. As if your heart didn’t shatter into a million pieces shortly before meeting Joshua.

Even when you saw Seungcheol briefly–so briefly–a part of you still missed your ex, but you craved being in Joshua’s arms more. Like medicine. Joshua was your medicine.

God, you needed him so fucking viscerally.

That’s when you decided. No more beating around the bush this time. It’s been four months too long. You had to have this man.

You decided to make a surprise appearance at his place–the address you just happened to "discover" on his driver’s license when he wasn’t paying attention. And, of course, you showed up wearing something kind of insane.

You know those movie scenes where the sexy love interest throws on an oversized trench coat with barely anything underneath, or sometimes nothing at all? Yeah, well... you decided to try that. And now you’re waiting outside of his apartment building in the autumn weather–freezing your literal ass off–waiting for him to get home to give him the surprise of his life.

It had been over an hour, and with each exhale, your breath hung in the air, a visible reminder of the cold. You hugged your coat tighter around your body, clutching it like it was the only barrier between you and freezing to death. And honestly, it might as well have been. Standing outside his building in practically nothing had your heart racing for all the wrong reasons.

Here you were trying to be all cutesy, sexy, and fun, and this damn man wasn’t even home. Were you out of your mind?

The anxiety was creeping in. The biting autumn air had found every exposed inch of your skin, and your confidence was sinking fast. Just when you were ready to leave this cringe-fest waiting to happen, and retreat to the warmth of your own home, you heard footsteps approaching from down the street. Your pulse quickened as you glanced up, and there he was, walking towards you in a long dark coat and sweater.

Joshua’s eyes met yours, his expression shifting from confusion to slow realization as registered you from his distance, watching you stand there bundled in your trench coat with something obviously beneath it. His lips parted slightly, his brow furrowed, but there was no judgment—just surprise, and more so curiosity.

You instinctively tightened your grip on the coat, pulling it closer around your nearly bare body as you leaned against the wooden front door that had been stubbornly keeping you outside. “Hey,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly in the cold, watching your breath materialize in the air as a delicate cloud of frost.

“Hi?” His tone was cautious but amused as if he was trying to piece together exactly what was waiting at his doorstep. He shoved his leather-gloved hands into the pockets of his own coat, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is...unexpected. What are you doing here?”

You let out a shaky laugh, nerves bubbling up as you shifted on your feet, your bare thighs scraping against one another as they clenched. “Yeah, so... there’s a really good explanation for all of this, but, um...” You glanced down at yourself, then back up at him, feeling more exposed than ever. “Can I come in first?”

His place was disturbingly neat—psychopathically neat. It was the kind of spotless where everything seemed too perfect, like someone with more than a few screws loose needed complete control over their space. Every surface gleamed, not a speck of dust or a misplaced item in sight.

“Want something warm? Tea, maybe?” He politely offered with a warm smile.

You found yourself mirroring his smile, a giddy excitement bubbling inside you like a teenager with a crush. With a light skip, you made your way back toward him, the trench coat swaying around you like an oversized brown paper bag—so tempting to just shed it. “That sounds really nice. Anything would be good.”

“Okay. I’ll put on some Earl Grey for you.” His lingering smilewas the last thing you see before he disappeared in the kitchen, giving you the opportunity to learn more about the owner of the home.

Nothing was out of place. The walls were a sterile beige, devoid of any warmth or personality, while the furniture radiated with an unsettling shine that suggested it had never truly been used. Not a single wrapper marred the coffee table, nor was there a crumb in sight—everything was meticulously arranged as if he harbored an unyielding aversion to disorder. It felt more like a stage set than a home, the kind of place that made you wonder if anyone actually lived here, especially given the spontaneity of your intrusion.

Your blood ran cold. The longer you scanned the room, the more strange it felt to be standing there. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as unease settled in. You suddenly found yourself questioning why he was taking so long with the tea.

Your toes curled in discomfort as you glanced over to where Joshua had disappeared, and just then, he emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of steaming hot tea in either hand. He set them down on the coffee table with a practiced ease and settled onto the pristine couch behind him. “Have a seat. We can wait while the tea steeps.”

You nodded, a tight look on your face, and lowered yourself onto the couch beside him, accepting a cup and sipping on its deeply rich content. “Thank you.”

“Now, what brought you over here? I’m surprised you managed to find out where I lived...considering I never told you,” he said, his expression blank as he nursed his cup in his hands.

“Well,” you began, swallowing hard as the heat from the tea scalded your tongue and burned its way down your throat. “I’m not quite sure how to explain this, but…I found your driver’s license when it fell out of your wallet on one of our dates, and I kind of memorized your address? I thought I’d surprise you.” You paused, a nervous laugh escaping. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

He set his tea at the corner of the coffee table, and clasped his hands together, a teasing glint in his eyes hearing your confession. “Well... I commend you for not only your bravery in the doing and admitting fault, but it’s not that weird, actually. It’s kind of flattering.”

“Really? But I invaded your privacy. That’s invasive—almost illegal, isn’t it?”

For a fleeting moment, you swore you saw his fists clench, but then one of his hands slid over yours, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckle, quickening your heart rate. “But if I say it’s okay, then it’s okay. Right?”

Also, setting your tea aside, your other hand instinctively fell on top of his, the earlier discomfort and worry fading into the background. “I guess so.”

He shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. “You look cold. Would you like a hug to warm you up?”

“S-sure,” you managed to stutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you accepted his invitation.

As his arms enveloped you, you felt the raw strength he kept hidden beneath the layers of clothing. The warmth radiated from his body, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he tightened his embrace around you, holding you protectively–possessively even. You breathed in his scent, registering his cologne you were all too familiar with and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. For a moment, every trace of anxiety disappeared. Joshua had a way of making you feel secure again, of restoring that sense of safety you hadn't realized was what you were in search of.

You leaned into it, your breath fanning over the skin of his neck as your hand roamed up his back, eager to peel off his physical and mental layers keeping you from devouring him with reckless abandon. You wanted to pull him closer, to feel the reassuring weight of his body against yours, like your own personal shield. The conflicting urge to consume him entirely, to the point of exhaustion, while simultaneously cherishing every part of him was a dilemma you never anticipated facing—especially so soon after a breakup. Joshua stirred something deep within you, something you couldn’t even begin to explain, no matter how hard you tried.

When he let you go, the absence of his warmth was immediate, but the kind smile on his face remained as if reassuring you that everything was fine. “Better?”

“Yeah. That was nice,” you whispered, still holding his hands, both large and perfect.

“Good. Now. What was this surprise that couldn’t wait for a text or phone call?”

Now, a wave of nerves washed over you once more.

Your hands fiddled with the straps keeping your attire in place, and you hesitated before standing before him, mustering up the final bit of courage you had left in place of your dignity. “Well, I wasn’t quite sure if you were just being the polite gentleman who could ‘do no wrong’ or if you’d been completely oblivious to the hints I’ve been throwing your way since our first date. But I’m here making it as clear as possible for you, Joshua Hong.”

With a determined tug, you loosened the tie that held your closure in place, letting it slip from its knot and revealing the reason you felt goosebumps up your legs. Your breasts bulged out of the lacy fabric, leaving almost nothing to the imagination and hugging parts of your body the man before you had only seen in passing through a window. The pillowy flesh spilling from your decorated underwear left him with a sensation that wrapped around Joshua’s throat and clenched.

He couldn’t feel himself breathing, drinking in your exposed skin, admiring the bright white of the lingerie complimenting your skin as it clung on to you seamlessly, while the trench coat finally found itself where it belonged on the ground. He sank the couch behind him as you came closer, wordlessly tracing every curve, dotting every mole, noting every mark or scar as you loomed over him in feigned innocence. The only air he could draw was his ragged breath, his hands aching to touch you.

“I would love nothing more than to have your hands all over me,” You said with a sultry edge, dripping with obvious intent.

Your knee dug into the couch's cushion, the other following and taking residence in Joshua’s lap as he simply watched. His eyes softly blinked back up at you as you settled into him, having him melt under every word you spoke.

“Is that so?” He asked calmly, physically refraining himself, and ignoring the dark thoughts clouding his logic.

You threw your arms around his neck, gazing down at him as you shifted in his lap. “I do. It’s all I can ever think about anymore. Ever since these last four months.”

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, like steam escaping from a kettle.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“...Am I supposed to say something more?”

“How about–I don’t know. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to say that the whole time,’ or ‘I feel the exact same way, tongue wrestle me until we pass out.’ Give me something,” You begged.

He shrugged, playing up his ignorance. “Doesn’t sound like me? Does it?”

“Is this really all you can talk about? A girl in her best lacy underwear–in white mind you–sitting in your lap like she’s accepting ones in a night club, and you’re fixated on your characterization?”

He shrugged again as if taunting you, the smile on his face growing sinister at your agitation. “I have poor depth perception.”

You groaned, your body feeling heavy as you slumped against him, ready to slide off his lap in defeat. “I give up.”

But just as you were about to peel away from him, you felt a firm pair of hands steady you, anchoring you in place. Joshua’s eyes sharpened as his grip tightened, fitting your body in the curves of his palms. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You blinked back at him, confused yet oddly at home in his touch, despite the rapid beat of your heart suggesting otherwise. “I thought–I kinda thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” you reluctantly answered.

His cool palm slid against your flushed skin, trailing up your body and igniting a path of fire that battled the waves of chills following up your spine. Instinctively, you fell forward, involuntarily pressing your lace-clad chest against the cashmere of his sweater and finding purchase back around his broad shoulders, which looked bigger than usual. A soft squeak passed your lips as he tugged you towards, fitting your bodies together like pieces of a puzzle.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” His hands grasped the sides of your thighs as he tucked them around his torso, not once breaking eye contact.

You felt a cold sweat trickle down your skin, your body stiffening as you focused solely on the soothing tenor of Joshua’s voice. “I always see how you look at me, Angel.” His fingers carded through your hair, pushing it to one side and delicately grazing over the fullness of your breast. “And I love how you look at me.”

“Josh,” Your voice emerged softer than you expected, almost tinged with a plea as you drew closer.

“And believe me when I say this, darling, I’ll always want something to do with you. I want everything to do with you…if you let me.”

You felt his hand somewhere you’ve only ever imagined: at the hook of your bra before he slowly started to unlatch it, the straps falling off your shoulders as your support came undone. You were grateful to be pressed so close to him. Otherwise, your entire upper body would be entirely nude. Entirely exposed. You tucked your arm over your chest, gaze dropping at the perceived proximity until Joshua gently moved you by the chin to meet his eyes.

“Don’t.” He quietly demanded, purposefully moving away, and the undergarment fell from your body, your nipples christened by the chill air conditioning. “So perfect.”

His hand hovered over their shape, only ghosting over them but not nearly touching, yet either bud tensed at their mere presence. You exhaled shakily, your breath uneven and impatient, as your eyes suddenly drifted away, overwhelmed by an unexpected rush from his uncharacteristic attention.

“You don’t want to know how much I imagined putting you in my mouth.” His pursed lips landed on your collarbone in an open mouth kiss, gently pulling you between his lips.

You softly moaned, unfurling your digits before they slid up his neck. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t do anything but—you felt his mouth latch onto you, teeth burying into your flesh. You parted your lip in another moan, instinctively reacting to the familiar concoction of pain and pleasure exhibited by previous partners, but this was Joshua. Gentlemanly Joshua.

He bared his hand flat against your back, dipping your body towards the coffee table and pressing urgent kisses to the hollow of your neck, lingering against the pulse of your throat and digging his hips into your pelvis. Your hand roamed over his body, cradling his head and pressing him closer against you as your knee hooked around his waist.

Joshua swung his hand behind you, knocking over the mugs with a loud crash, sending tea spilling everywhere on the ground as the flat surface of the coffee table urgently met your exposed back. It stung how cold it initially was until the weight of his body stunned you, leaving you impervious to everything else. He grabbed your side, wrestling with the skin of your clavicle as his hand ran harshly over your erect buds, grinding them under his palm.

In between your legs, you felt warmth—the kind that makes a show when you could only think of being rammed at 100 miles an hour—and you felt it soak in the fabric of the lace, flossed between your folds when you were desperate for friction. “Joshua, please…” you cried.

He shoved away the useless bra now just hanging off your body before his lips curled around the curve of your breasts, kissing their underside as his thumbs fiddled with their sensitivity. Your knees bent towards you, your hips pulsating against his thigh as his tongue taunted you, flicking over the texture of your nipples and nipping at the tips as he pulled with his teeth. You whimpered, body falling limp on the table as he nursed you between his lips, his eyes piercing back at you lewdly as an occasional moan would leave his lips.

“Tell me how you like it. Teach me.” He spoke with a quiet, commanding authority.

“Y-you seem to be doing a good job so far.”

He smiled, running his hand through your hair before it gripped between his knuckles, sending a rush of ache from your scalp. Your eyes shot up to meet his, a blend of fear and arousal flashing through them, but you were quickly soothed by the gaze he held, sultry and unshakable. “Should I be mean then?” He offered.

You let out a brief yelp after his hand swatted over your plush thigh, your flesh spilling between his fingers as he squeezed. The bridge of your nose touched your speechless expression, lips tracing over your face with a deep exhale. “Give you the kind of things you want? What I learned about you?”

“What have y-you learned?” you hesitated to ask.

His eyes glazed over you, seeing you melt at a simple glance before tenderly pressing his lips to yours, only sampling. You mewled in the depths of your throat, lips falling open as you kissed him for the first time, succumbing to the pillowy texture of his lips. His eyes partially open, he fixed his eyes on your features, how they contorted with his touch, reacting involuntarily to the rocking of his body against you. He was obsessed with the mere image of you.

“What I’ve learned, hmm,” he quietly pondered.

Giving him time to think, your hand cupped over his attached to your thigh, guiding it under you and around your ass, letting his digits outline the curve of your body. He chuckled and brought the other hand parallel, following his carnal urge to clutch you tightly in his grip. A smile melted on your face briefly, enjoying the sensation of his hands before he roughly pulled down your underwear before you could even gasp, leaving you truly naked.

“I’ve learned that when you want something, you take it.” His hands come down to the bottom of his sweater and pull it along with what’s underneath off of him.

His glistening tan reflected back at you, beads of perspiration coating his skin—likely a result of months of tension finally unfolding. As you took him in for the first time, the way the light and shadows sculpted his form accentuated his physique, leaving you stunned and curious about what else he might’ve been hiding from you.

“So take what you want from me, Angel.”

God, you really could swallow him whole in a single gulp.

You repositioned yourself, planted your knees on the table, and tugged him by his belt. Your once pleading eyes became determined as you fixated on tearing off his pants, starting by unbuckling his belt at the waist. Your eyes fluttered, seeing the bulge through his briefs, twitching in your presence while you fit a finger at the top hem. A sigh escaped you; glance briefly up at Joshua’s expression–full of patient anticipation–before wrapping your hands around his aroused girth.

“...You’ve been waiting for me,” you began to realize, seeing the cock firm up in your grasp.

He let out an amused hum, stroking the side of your head. “I wanted to make sure you wanted me.”

“Of course, I wanted you.” Your hand ran along his shaft, veins pulsing on the ball of your palm, and you pressed the head to your lips. “I just wanted you to show me you wanted me.”

Joshua’s groans barely escaped as your lips curved around the tip and more than gently kissed. His hand clasped around your head, moving it so your eyes could face his, seeing him come apart in front of you. From just your teasing. “Darling, if I did that…I’d never know when to stop.”

“Joshua. I’d never ask you to stop.”

His hand cupped your face, and you melted into his palm–absolutely reveling in the blind infatuation on your face before he made you face his arousal, cock grazing your chin before he pressed it past your lips. Your lips stretched around him like a rubber band, expanding to conquer his size but not with ease. Your hand covered his base and enveloping his length as much as you could.

“Angel,” he grunted.

He claimed the back of your head, leading your pace as you took him. Your hands clasped around his hips, fastening yourself to him. You could already feel your drool drip alongside your chin, becoming sloppy as you were fixated on his complexion: blissed with parted lips, looking at you like he’d been touched for the first time.

Your moans vibrated around him as he thrusted into you, momentarily breaching the air of his pelvis before he pulled you back, flicking his hips into your mouth and overcome with ecstasy. “My good little Angel,” he groans, breath hitching in his throat. “Taking my cock like you were made for me.”

He tugged your hair tighter as you felt the hilt hit the back of your throat, and you thought to yourself how much It would’ve hurt if you weren’t otherwise drunk with bliss. You buried him deep inside you, holding him with both hands, sobbing on him with such anguish that people would assume you hadn’t been fed for days.

Joshua’s pretty lips got caught in his pretty teeth, and the darkness in his eyes deepened to a richer, more intense black as a sense of reckless abandon enveloped him. “God…look at you…good little slut like you likes taking cock like mine, doesn’t she?”

The sensation of your mouth massaged him heavenly, having you taste the heady tang of his skin on your tongue while your nose tickled against his groin. He clutched your head, your whimpers and cries pulsating around his girth, fucking your mouth until you hit the base. You looked up, pliant and willing, as tears swelled in your eyes, cheeks hot to the touch, and a thick sheen of slobber over your lips.

You’re precious. And his. All his.

He pried either of your hands off him and restrained them above your head, carrying the weight of his control in his hips, crushing your mouth against his lap. While one hand had stabilized your wrists, the other back fell back in your hair, fucking your pretty mouth until he couldn’t anymore.

Joshua felt his name muffled around his cock, staring back at you as you repeated his name, desperation echoing from your throat, but not to stop–oh no, he recognized this stare. He held you towards him, cutting your airways with hardly a second to breathe. Your eyes fluttered. Pupils began to roll to the back of your head as his cock slid down your throat, bottoming out inside you for the first time.

“You want my cum, don’t you? You’re so damn obvious you do,” he taunted in an unfamiliar tone, foreign to you but nonetheless welcome.

You hummed confirmation around the girth, practically whining with full cheeks.

“Angel, you know what it means when I do, right?” he loomed over you, as your mouth was still pressed against him in an abrupt halt, still tasting all of him. “Do you understand what you’re getting into? The second I cum inside you–mouth or cunt–you’re mine. Are you ready for that responsibility?”

You nodded, impatience singeing your tongue.

“Really?” The fingers threaded through your hair pulled you off, giving you the sharpest intake of oxygen before you fell right back where you belonged with a slam. The pain in your throat caused it to go hoarse, and the tears once swelling in your eyes streamed down your face. “You better mean it, darling. Words aren’t just a promise to me; they’re a vow.”

His final thrusts were steady but harsh, pressing his size inside of you until you gagged, and finally, when he was merciful, you felt his hot stream coat your throat. His hips found their falter, plunging in and out of you–the cum dribbling down your chin until he finally let you go, prying you off him and giving you a moment of rest sprawled on the coffee table.

But only a moment.

His hands wordlessly caressed you, body drained from release, but mind hungry for your essence. Every word he’s ever said in this exchange, he’s meant with every fiber of his being, down to his very core.

“Tired, darling? We’re only getting started.”

You softly chuckled, a tired smile reappearing for the first time in a while. “I’m in for a lot with you, aren’t I?” you asked, strain evident in your voice.

“You’re asking that question far too little too late, Angel.”

His lips puckered to met yours in a gentle kiss, then another, then another. You held him against you, not minding how disheveled you looked with your pulled hair and mascara streaks staining your cheeks, it was your turn.

Joshua found your body easily in your liplock, gliding his hands up and down your body in rushed motions as if memorizing you by touch. Your dips, your curves, your angles. There wasn’t one part of you he dared to miss. And you smiled, you chuckled, so lust blind to see the symptoms forming before your very eyes as if they weren’t already there. He swallowed your laughter, tasting victory on your tongue, and nuzzled in the crook of your lips. “Can I do the things I'm willing to do for you��what I’m willing to do to you?”

You cupped his face, an impish grin on your face. “Stop asking and fuck me like you love me, Joshua.”

Gladly.

He held either of your legs at his side, fingers aligning your folds and splitting in half. If they didn’t already look big, they most certainly felt big. A single digit only traced along your slit, and your hips buckled, fluttering at the sliver of taste.

“I’ve barely grazed you, and you’re like a flood down there,” he quietly teased, pushing in his index halfway.

You clenched around him, then around nothing, and he repeated, effortlessly stealing your breath with every move. You anchored yourself to the edge of the table. “You know exactly why, Josh.” You whimpered.

He then pushes in the full digit–reaching deeper than you expected–and you convulse around him. Your head snapped back, the phantom strings of Joshua’s nasty habits–already acquainted with your body–pulling you in without warning. “Oh my god.”

“You’re so easy to please. As if I know everything about your body without you telling me.” He thrusted his finger, cultivating a rhythm he knew would be perfect for his little darling.

“It’s as if…we’ve known each other forever.” You stated in your countless, staggered breaths.

“Forever…” he plunged another finger, feeling you flutter around him delightfully, “with you?”

His smile, that unsettling perfect smile, pressed a tender kiss against your lips. “I rather like that. Me and you. Forever.”

You quietly laughed before tugging him into a deeper liplock, gently slotting your finger through his hair, not worried about ruining its pristine as you pulled him closer. “I’ll take you and me forever.”

“Now, angel–” you took the hand he had inside you to guide him faster, deeper, your language becoming gasps and moans in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t bother finishing his thought, too enraptured by your demanding hunger, that he pressed on further, feeding you his digits as you swallowed each one by one. His thumb caressed your pulsating bud for extra good measure, taking pleasure at how often you shake when he does, and rammed his fingers deeper in you, finally hearing what his name sounds like in a state of bliss.

He’s overcome with pride–nay–overcome with triumph. The way you look at him with such an utterly lewd expression, your delicious scent a thick film on your body that he couldn’t help but want to lick and devour and engorge. He didn’t need to have another orgasm for another second if it meant seeing you come apart the way you were right now.

“Joshua!” you cried, body shaking as if you were glitching, having an out-of-body experience, and you undid yourself the way he did: utterly and perfectly euphoric.

You creamed his digits with nectar, milky and fair, and he didn’t wait a second for them to enter his mouth, knuckles deep. His eyes fell shut from elation, moaning around his hands, and he caught even the slightest drop down his wrists.

You were fucking–

“Magnificent.” He swallowed your lips once more, hungrily, arousal rushing down to his body again. “Perfect, my sweet little angel.”

“...forever. Me and you.” You repeated, not getting pass the conversation that was interrupted what felt like a millennia ago. “I’ll take you for forever. And that’s a vow for me, too.”

Joshua never expected this, such a scene of ease and pristine, seeing his future lie limp and happy and fucked. You had never looked so beautiful. After all the men you’ve met, all the bodies you’ve collided with, all the dicks you’ve sucked, you always had a glow. It’s why he tolerated such things, but to see that glow after him. It was the most radiating version of you. And to know you’ll have him. He was the happiest man alive.

“Oh, my darling.” He pulled you up from the table to sit you back in his lap, parting away your hair to clearly see your face smiling back at him even with the fatigue. “You are the most perfect thing.” he shook his head in disbelief, unsure how he got so lucky.

“Let me take you to bed, hmm?”

You quietly nodded, admiring him back all the same.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly, before lifting you both up from the ground and walked into his bedroom–just as unnervingly neat as his living room. Or should you say how neat it was. The bedroom presented its same beige aura, hardly a spec of dust in place, but the one extraordinary thing about it was the light casting from the window, beckoning over the entire city.

The second Joshua tossed your naked body on his bed, you immediately got back up, pressing your palms to the window to gaze down upon everyone through it. “You can actually see everything from up here! Wow.”

You heard Joshua chuckle behind you with his footsteps towards you to follow. “You like it, Angel?”

“It’s beautiful.” The glint in your eyes sparkled brighter than any star above you. “I’ve lived here almost my whole life and I’ve never seen it like this. I can even see my house from here! That's crazy.”

Joshua let out an indistinguishable scoff, immediately covering his mouth before coming behind you, his hand settling on your hips. “I got lucky with the lease. Best I’ve ever seen. I never thought to appreciate this view, but now I have a reason to.”

His kiss bloomed a familiar warmth across your face, and you leaned into his embrace, taking his arms around you as you shared the impeccable view. The city lights illuminated the streets, their people, their livelihood, and you never would’ve imagined seeing it if you hadn’t found Joshua’s address.

You belonged here somehow, as if it was meant for you. It truly did feel special. Joshua made it special.

You brushed your backside to his groin, feeling something already prod your side and you swore you felt yourself purr. Bodies still connected, you leaned into the glass, knee digging into the cushions of the window nook. Joshua followed after you knowingly, hand pawing your thigh as his lips drew to your ear, nipping at the tips.

Your moan, deliciously loud, was all the signal Joshua needed to keep going. He mouthed against your neck, one hand crawling over your chest and another reclaiming your sensitive heat. You doubled over slightly, palming and smearing your fingerprints into the flawlessly clear glass, its chill not disrupting the heat festering your body in the slightest.

Joshua had your body thrum in reaction to his fingers, hips wriggling to his touch, and he heightened the strokes on your already throbbing heat. “Josh, please.”

He groaned into the crook of your neck, the outline of his erect cock distinctly recognizable against your lower back. “I want to show whoever’s watching what you’ve done to me, Angel.” he slammed his fingers upright inside you before returning to his regulated pace. “Show what pretty little slut you become when you’re within reach of me.”

“Anything, Josh, anything. Anything for you to fuck me.”

He snickered, an empty darkness echoing inside the tone. “You asked for it.”

His body slammed up against you, hungrily biting along your skin as he nestled his cock between your slit as he entered. You sooner realized how fingers did his size no justice as they filled your cunt with strain. Your ass perked up behind him, not a moment longer before you were forced to adjust to his size with full thrust, holding you by your neck as his other arm cuffed you by your elbows.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, falling and bouncing back against him as his raw cock took you demandingly.

“This pussy,” he growled, his hand striking the full shape of your ass cheek where it still stung, “I’ve dreamt of this pussy.”

He buried himself in you, hitting the hilt deep with your core to the point your vision flickered back to your skull. Your legs parted wide, backing yourself against him until you were accepting every inch. “Fuck that feels so fucking good, don’t fucking stop.”

“Yeah? My slutty angel likes my cock pounding into her pretty pussy?”

“Yes, please, Josh, please give it to me. I love how you give it to me so good.”

“You beg like that,” he gritted his teeth. “I’ll have to properly deliver.”

You looked back at him and smiled, hair falling over your face and his thrusts made you a vision of lust, somehow gracefully breathtaking with his cock buried deep inside you. “You and me forever, right? Don’t stop now.”

Joshua was throbbing, practically beaming at your answer, and before you knew it, your chest was greeted with the frost-bitten window, now flattening against your breasts. Groaning upon impact, the tempered glass tensed your nipples, bringing them both to a hard point, now freezing and pebbling you from your arms to your legs.

Joshua’s body pinned you in place, and you felt his unnerving arousal slide up and down between your cheeks and pushing back up inside you. “I’ll show just how much you’re mine to the world.” His voice was still gentle yet demanding. “Only because you asked for it.”

His flat palm struck you again, pushing up your body and letting the echoes of your collision play in surround sound. Your body, already sore from earlier, knew no rest as you took him deeper, the cold intensifying the pleasure rushing through your body. Your hips swiveled, playing with his cock like a personal toy, and you braced the window in front of you willingly, blasting on an indefinite high.

“Thinking about how someone can see you up here?” He whispered. “Taking my cock like the precious little angel you are? Or letting me fuck you like the nasty fucking slut you are?”

You gingerly nodded, hugging the glass desperately to feel him deeper inside you.“Yes—fuck—I want someone to see us. The thought gets me so wet.”

“So vocal, angel,” he tugged the back of your head, devouring your lips. “My dirty little angel.”

He held your arms behind you, pressing your whole torso against the window, and every snap of his waist had you bending more and more to his will. Every inch of his body had you flushed against him, feeling him present you to the world below like a goddamn masterpiece.

His body slammed again, shaking the glass and flickering fear into your eyes briefly before he reassured you by catching your waist in his hands. “Scared?”

“A little,” you stammered.

“I’ve got you, angel. Just enjoy it.”

And you did, endlessly as his pace picked up again, and by the number of times he’s pushed you, flipped you, rammed you against the window, you were no longer scared of falling through. The fragility of the glass was no longer of concern. You had Joshua to distract you from the life-threatening circumstances with every inch of his being. You had Joshua to protect you from the infinite possibilities of something were to go wrong with the window in front of you shattering. You had Joshua to feel safe no matter how scared and unsure you were. You had Joshua.

Joshua. Joshua. Joshua.

“Joshua, you’re gonna make me cum,” you mewled in his lap. Your ass took its turn to be displayed as your flesh pressed against the thick glass, bouncing on his cock that stiffened up to no bounds inside you.

“Are you? Your pretty pussy is gonna come all over my cock?” His voice now rushed, heightened, signaling how ready he was to burst like fucking dam.

Your nod carried urgency, your hands clasping against his face in desperate pleas, admiring that face you’ve grown fond of, how you could see both light and darkness in them, filling you to the brim with an inexplicable euphoria that you craved with everybody you’ve ever encountered. “I want it. I want to come all over your cock and feel you come inside me too…Make me feel so good so full.”

“Yeah,” he moaned, hand threading through your hair tightly, you hummed in confirmation, bouncing harder as you dared take him by his full length. “This the best cock you ever had? The best one to put my hot cum inside you.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “No one else…no one else can fuck me like you like this. I want you to fill me with all your hot cum.”

“S-shit,” he cried, tugging your back by the wrists, and fucking up into you, the window behind you christened with your sweat and slick arousal.

He ached to cover all his bases, pounding you to malleable dough, he filled your walls with his oozing determination, and his screams of release followed when he shot his promise inside you. His hips faltered in deep, thorough pumps, claiming your body in his hands with intense anguish as he inhaled your skin in his tight, unwavering embrace.

You felt the warmth inside and out of you, like a rapid stream of water—only more viscous and rewarding as your hips bucked, twitching in Joshua’s locking hold, hardly breathing with the way he held you. You wrapped around him just as tight, letting go of him the last thing on your mind and savoring the trembling descent of your peaks.

There are then only sounds of your exchanged breathing, slowly coming down to Earth.

He lowered his forearms, bracing you from your lower back, and carefully lifted you from the nook to carefully lay you against his bed that felt like heaven enveloping your body. He crawled on top of you still, descending lingering kisses all along your body before his lips reached your tired heat, not even thinking of pleasuring you but doing it anyway as he lapped up the final remnants of tonight’s events.

His hums were pleasant vibration, wordlessly tasting every ounce of cum—yours or his, it didn’t matter—and swallowing it like a full meal, gently caressing your swollen clit. He couldn’t have enough of you, letting the brain fog control him until you started screaming in pleasure again.

You had to pull him by threads of his hair to stop, overstimulated by his unwavering hunger, and for a second that darkness was back in his eyes the deepest you had ever seen until they softened in concern, his grip loosening. “You okay?” he wafted in with concern.

“Yeah, it felt good, I just…you’re gonna kill me,” you lightly joked.

He softly laughed, leveraging him up and facing chest to chest with you, devouring your lips with that lingering tang of dominance still on his tongue. “Never…” he whispered with a smile, before he inhaled you for a moment longer, swallowing your moans, caressing your body.

He finally found his self-restraint and let you rest, offering to run a warm bath in the hallway bathroom. You turned to him, taking his hand in gratitude. “That would be really nice.”

“I’ll start one up for you.”

As he leaves, you sink into the bed, reveling in the sheets worn from your presence, and hear the water run in another room, smelling of the clean seat of soap, and nothing has ever felt so right.

“I’ll carry you,” he stated before picking you up from your neck and back to your knees into the bathroom that was another vision of perfection, lit candles marking your path.

You gushed in disbelief, your body finally dipping to the perfect temperature as you were surrounded with rose petals and bubbles. Almost as if he planned this. Like he knew what to do and how to exactly do it.

“How is it?” He asked, hospitality being of second nature. “Warm enough? Water deep enough?”

You gripped the edge of the tub to gaze back at him, bent down to meet your level with a soft, adoring smile as the water splashed against you soothed your aching body. “Who are you, Joshua Hong?”

He snickered, kissing the top of your head without answer. “I’m gonna let you be on your own for a moment, to really give your rest and after I clean up outside, maybe I’ll join you. Just…don’t go anywhere.”

You nodded, initiating a chaste kiss on his lips. “I won't.”

“Good girl.” His smile had never gotten so big, kissing you back with double the force before he got up to leave.

“Leave the door open,” you requested, “just in case you wanted…a nice image welcoming you back.”

“Alright,” he said, eyes lingering on your state before finally taking his leave.

Joshua had his fun in the sun, clinging to every second of this perfect night, but he needed to clean up one more thing before it could truly end perfectly. The kitchen, if you could see it, was clean and pristine as the rest of the house goddamn near was until you helped him wreck it, except one thing just of place.

He glanced at the hunting knife in the sink, carelessly rinsed after he didn’t think he had time to properly clean in your company. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, realizing how long the metal had soaked in the water. He reached into the cabinet for cleaning supplies, his mind racing.

Dousing a rag with isopropyl, he carefully wiped every surface, hoping no streaks were left on the metal, almost failing to notice the blood ironically staining the stainless steel of his sink, to which he scrubbed and scrubbed with conviction. He couldn’t help but be grateful for your lack of awareness, the thought of entering your kitchen not crossing your mind a moment this entire visit. It’s why he loved you. You didn’t ask unnecessary questions. You kept to yourself for the most part despite your rendevous. And you weren’t trouble. he couldn’t wait to return to you. His perfectly oblivious angel.

Meanwhile, you soaked in the water, smelling its essential oil and lathering up the bubbles on your body. In the corner of your eye, a door catches your attention, having not noticed it since entering the apartment. The only door with a keypadlock that seemed to require a code, protecting whatever’s inside or keeping whoever unwanted out. Your thoughts lingered for a moment, wondering what he wanted to keep hidden from plain sight. Hobbies? Priceless items? Murder weapons? Your mind spiraled through every possibility, leaving an itch you couldn’t quite reach to scratch.

But before another second passes, you’re reunited with the man who’s been consuming your thoughts, a smile of relief returning to your face.

“Hi, everything good down there?” You gazed back up at him.

“Yeah, sorry I took so long,” he sighed, the weight on his shoulders palpable until the tension eased away as he slid into the tub beside you.

You moved closer, collapsing into his chest and nuzzling against him, the warmth of his embrace far better than any hot bath. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

His hand gently stroked the back of your head, smoothing the damp tendrils on your shoulders as he glanced down at you, then at the mirror reflecting your intertwined bodies. The image before him was a vision of what the rest of his life would look like. As he correctly foretold. As he meticulously planned. Everything falling into place.

“Me too.”

Your eyes still flickered toward the door with the keypad, curiosity gnawing at you, but you pushed it aside. Whatever was hidden behind that door no longer mattered. Joshua was all that mattered now. You were irrevocably his, as he was irrevocably yours.

Whatever secrets he had, he could keep them.

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