#guess I can walk off a cliff!

[crinkle-eyed-boo]

Finally got the “Oops, we oversold” email from 28 Clothing a solid two weeks after my order was placed. It feels like it’s not even worth trying to get anything the next time.

[mitchmotch]

I'm so interested in your Anastasia au! will you tell us more?

yes of course i will! @revalito and i are genuinely so elated that so many people like the au HEHJKSDHJKS i will always want to talk about it trust

i don't know if there was something specific you wanted me to talk about, so i'll just talk about their time in the cloud recesses when they were younger =]

as i said before in my tags, wwx found lwj sitting outside the gentian cottage waiting for his mom and that's how they first met--he brought him a blanket and something warm to drink and offered to sit next to him. after that wwx would find lwj every now and then and hang around a bit but not for long. that does.. imply that his parents died sooner but well. HEJDSJKSD we figured one of the servants was his dad's close friend that agreed to babysit wwx for a while before they died, so now at least wwx has someone that was considered family (and that can tell him about his parents)

wwx didn't actually start working as a servant until he got older and that's when he was really allowed to interact with lwj. silly little comments turned into prompts to speak more and eventually, they'd have "conversations" (lwj would listen, wwx would talk) as wwx did what he had to. one day lwj asked wwx if he would be allowed to be a personal assistant on a quick task he had to do outside of the cloud recesses, and of course that's allowed. and that's the loophole they found to spend more time together =]

lxc knows about lwj's crush. he could read it on him easily HEJKSDJK i'd like to think one time wwx was called in to serve something to them, and as he did he made some comment to lwj. lwj acknowledged him with a small uptick of his lips and lxc was just ⁉️⁉️⁉️ HEHKJDHJKDHDJK he starts making excuses for wwx to go see lwj. the first time he asks a servant to call for wwx bc he needed something delivered to his brother it started a rumor within the servants immediately. this is where the teasing among them began HEHJKSDJKSDK lxc is the main reason why eventually wwx is the main servant/one of the only servants for lwj

wwx starts learning about cultivation in his free time--and we'd like to think the gusulan sect would set aside a teacher for willing servants on their breaks--but he never attends any actual classes. it isn't until they accept guest disciples when they're around 15/16 that he even entertains the idea. he probably makes a side comment to lwj, like "ah, guest disciples… it would have been nice to attend a class or two.." and lwj is immediately like i'm on it. he talks to lqr to attend the classes and ofc here lan qiren doesn't Need lwj to be a good example to wwx like he does in the novel, but we think lqr would still want to show him off HEHJKSJKSD also, lxc is probably like "it would be nice if wangji had more friends =] perhaps if we have wwx in there (someone he is already comfortable with) he would be more willing?" and that seals the deal HEJKSDHJKSD wwx is invited to his classes to be a "personal servant" to keep up appearances, but he is there to learn.

of course some other people there aren't to keen on the idea of having a servant in the class with them, so this time when lqr calls on wwx, it's not to test him, it's to prove his worth. he knows wwx and lwj are friends so in his head, his justification is that disciples are offending wwx -> they're offending lwj -> lwj is his nephew -> they are offending lqr too. ofc. HEHJKDSJKSDK lwj defends wwx in his own ways.

nie huaisang is the first to go up to wwx to chat and they become good friends, and since wwx is friends with lwj, nhs becomes friends with him too. it's a funny dynamic but lwj inwardly thinks it's nice.

thank you sm for asking! <3

[apathyfairy]

someone who is good at reading too much into nothing pls analyze my dream

[shotmrmiller]

Big man, Big mouth

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader (because demeaning girl usage) WC: 4.9k it's just gross smut and simon gets kinda mean sometimes nothing crazy :) ty to the brain to my pinky @xoxunhinged and precious beta @waves-against-a-cliff catching my errs

The smile you’d had on your face all morning is subsequently wiped once you’re told that you won’t, in fact, be spearheading a team meeting with air conditioning and a cup full of your favorite medium roast, but instead, you’re being sent somewhere where practical experience trumps theoretical, textbook knowledge. And alone, at that.

Guess your travel mug is about to make its big debut.

The construction site is alive with purpose— the buzzing of drills, raucous banter, and the low hum of music from a stereo. You run a hand down the back of your skirt that is more tourniquet than office attire you were forced into wearing, regretting not drawing the line at the heels pinching your toes. "Professional setting, professional appearance," your boss had said. Nothing here demands you to stand in ironed clothes with dust settling on your eyelashes and the taste of grit on your tongue.

You feel out of place, a white-collar worker surrounded by hard hats and steel-toe boots. Perhaps taking this job for a promotion was hasty on your part. But it’s too late now and the sun above you is wilting the starched collar of your blouse.

Best get this over and done with. (The bottle of barefoot wine at home will be your reward for your suffering.)

Walking to the home still in a semi-skeletal phase had been a bit uncomfortable, anxiety gnawing at your nerves and the polished shoes at the skin of your heel. But what made your shoulders tense and spine stiffen was the crew. You'd expected disgruntled workers, sure. A bit of grumbling here and there. No one likes to have someone with more authority and less experience trample all over your work, telling you what's what.

Not them eyeing you like you're a fish in a shark tank. A little minnow pulled out of her natural habitat and into the mix with dominant predators. The paper on your clipboard crinkles audibly as one of them— the leader, you gather— stops you before you can get any closer than he feels necessary. He plods over, hard hat tucked into his arm, wiping his sweaty brow with his sunbaked forearm, a few wood curls nestled into his beard.

"Ya lost?" he grunts.

There's a guy with a comb for hair and limpid blue eyes staring right at you from the back as he leans on a half-built wall with a smarmy grin on his thin lips.

"No! No, I, um—" you stammer, "I'm here as a temporary replacement for, um—"

He cuts you off with a dismissive wave, fingers thick as steel beams. "Right. Yeah, yeah." Bloody rude. "The inspector." His head tilts and spits on the cement, eyes giving you a once over, lingering on the bare skin of your calves. "John," he says then jerks his head behind him, to the shady inside of the home. "Let's get ya out this sun 'fore you melt like sugar on the driveway."

You keep your lips pressed in a line, swallowing down the retort sitting on your tongue with a hint of frustration, and follow him on swift feet. It is unforgivingly hot and at least there's a roof overhead. Most of the walls were still just wooden beams, the foundation concrete covered in dust. Rough-bristle brooms lean in corners, the stereo now sitting silently in the center of what’s to be the living room next to a man with a massive frame and a sweat-soaked wifebeater who didn't bother turning around as you made a beeline for the only fan feebly cutting through the muggy heat inside.

John from behind you grabs your attention. "So? What's the issue this time? We jus' had tha' muppet pass through a week ago." You turn around, the breeze now somewhat cooling the back of your neck.

"Just need to personally check what's left—" you clear your throat, giving the clipboard a waggle, "on this. Nothing too grand." The blonde one with shorn hair hasn't looked up once from the blue cooler between his legs.

John scratches his head. "Right." There's a drag of heavy boots behind you. "Temporary, eh?" His eyes are like cerulean rivets, pinning you in place.

Gruff Scottish cuts in, tone dripping with amusement. "Will ye look a' tha'," he mutters, accent thick and deliberate, "bosses up top sent a bonnie wee lass to keep an eye on things. Make sure ye pay good attention, aye?" The brute comes to stand in front of you, flexing one arm, bicep like a knotted tree trunk. "Would hate ye missin' the show."

Show ‘em your teeth, little fish. That promotion is already in your hands, don't let it slip through your fingers.

"Listen, you—" you snap back, cheeks burning hot but then his eyebrows raise to his hairline, the corner of his lip curling in challenge.

"It's Soap, hen."

“...Right.”

What the hell kind of name is Soap?

A third voice— crisp English just like John's— cuts through the air from the second floor. "Wipe the slobber off ya chin 'nd leave 'er alone, Soap! You still hav'ta sweep up 'ere!" A man with bronze skin and a cap adorned with the Union Jack in the center pokes his head out from over the wooden railing. His smile looks stiff.

"Miss." His eyes flash to Soap. "Move it. You can get your cock—" wow, mouth like a sailor, that one, "wet while on company's time." His gaze falls on you for a moment longer before disappearing back into the upper level.

Soap grumbles what sounds like a "fuckin' 'ell Kyle" but heads for the stairs anyway, steps creaking under his weight. "Ah'll be 'round if ye need me," he says with a wink.

Unlikely.

John absently shakes his head and turns to the grizzled, mountain of a man still hunched over that cursed cooler of his. "Simon." He suddenly moves then, rising smoothly to his feet for someone his size. He's a wall of muscle, a very clear force of nature, and he's now staring at your—

your shoes?

"Alrigh'," he gruffly says, "We'll get outta your way. The faster you can look for, whatever it is you're lookin' for, the faster you can get out o' my beard." He places his hard hat back on and gives Simon a nod. "To work, break time's over."

Simon walks past you without so much as a glance, his thick arm brushing roughly against your shoulder with enough strength to make you take a step back but then he speaks. "Don't trip on nothin', girl. I'd hate f'r our pretty mascot t'get injured on the," he emphasizes the last word, tone heavy with mockery, "job."

Your tongue is pressed firmly behind your clenched teeth as you straighten your skirt. Get this shit over with.

--

Their attitudes toward you had left some to be desired, but they had done their job seamlessly. Not a crack in place nor a bolt out of it meaning that ticking off the rest of the boxes on your clipboard had been a cinch, making the promotion even easier. By the time you were ready to go home— the thought of leaving behind the tangy scent of sweat and iron adding a pep to your painful step— the sun had already dipped, casting long shadows over the construction site.

Until John's unwelcome chivalrous gesture: sending one of his to accompany you to your car. "t's late out," he says, leaving no room for lip. Fine, whatever. The faster you get out of here the better. Saliva pools in your mouth at the thought of having a chilled glass of wine with chinese takeout for dinner.

Except the one waiting for you in the garage with a lit smoke between his chapped lips is Simon. He flicks it to the ground, smothering out the embers with the heel of his boot. "Move. Ain't got all day."

The last strand of your patience snaps and your mouth twists into a snarl. "Then leave off! I don't need a fucking chaperone. Believe it or not, I do know how to look both ways before crossing the street."

You'd only taken three irate, swift-footed steps away from him, clipboard trembling in your grip when the back of your shoe dug into raw skin; a sharp, sudden agony flaring out in a hot, thick wave and you stumble. The world spins for a second, colors blurring together until—

The relief is immediate. The hot needles on your raw nerves dulled down to a throb, vision blurring from the brief bite of intense pain. You breathe in a deep lungful of air, tasting salt and sawdust while you flex your feet, hissing when the blistered skin stretches. At least the damage to your toes is minimal.

But not to your pride. Tripping over your own feet, because the driveway while unfinished is still flat, now means you're being hauled over his shoulder, which is broad enough to be surprisingly comfortable, in the opposite direction of where your car is with your heels in hand. The fabric of his tank feels stiff under your sweaty palms.

"Is this kind of behavior normal for you? Or am I just lucky?" your voice is tinged with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. His arm tightens uncomfortably around the back of your bare thighs even though the office skirt you managed to squeeze into is knee-length.

"Only when I spot clumsy-footed birds like you. Can't 'ave ya splat on the concrete like a crime scene outline." A slow creeping flame spreads from your neck to the apple of your cheeks when you notice the guys staring at you from a window upstairs, Soap giving you a toothy smile. Even Kyle seems amused. Mortifying. Someone strike you down now. Actually, no. Then who'd feed your cat once you’re gone?

"'nd John would chew me out f'r lettin' ya break these," his long fingers circle your ankle, "in 'alf." You try to muster a response, but the words sit behind your teeth, your chagrin having tangled your tongue into knots.

Then he stops and the creaking of hinges reaches your ears. "Wait." Your eyes land on a black cargo bed, caked with dried mud. "Are you just going to sit me in your car?" He sets you down in the back seat anyway, tossing your shoes inside.

"Truck. I can drop ya on the patch of grass if ya like." Simon leaves you there, going to the driver's side rummaging through the middle compartment. His work truck is exactly what you'd expect from a man like him. The seats are covered in a thin layer of dust, you imagine he gives no one a ride, a well-worn visibility vest strewn about, an extra pair of work boots stained with splatters of white paint—the size difference of your shoes compared to his has you swallowing a lump the size of your fist down.

Simon pulls out a mid-sized red box and places it on the floor mat then props your leg up on his. His grip is firm but gentle as he inspects your open wounds and then sucks on his teeth. "A bit stupid, wearin' ankle breakers when out on a job." He prods around the inflamed skin, the pain making you tense.

"Don't worry about me and mi—" you hiss when he digs his thumb into the arch of your foot, "mine. Maybe I wanted to look nice." Fuck those shoes.

"'m sure ya did, though the skirt's all ya need." The warmth of his breath spreads through your toes and up your calf, raising gooseflesh.

You can't hold back a snort. "And now you're going to tell me that you prefer women in skirts and dresses?"

Simon switches legs, careful to not aggravate the blisters further. "I prefer my women with no clothes. But both of those make it f'r easier access. Like yours. Can see your knickers from 'ere." That has your heart skipping a beat, eyes widening with disbelief. Instinctively, you sit upright, back straightening with a pop.

"They're red."

You chuff out a breath. He's lying. You'd put on the only available pair you had at the time since you'd forgotten to dry your laundry the night prior. A simple, cotton grey. "You—! Fucking hell, I almost kicked you in the teeth." Simon's looking at you now, eyes dark and intense.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone's tried," he says with a smirk, voice low. "White, then."

The first aid kit still lies on the floor mat. "Stop talking." Simon ignores you, instead grabbing your other leg and pulling you closer toward the edge of the seat. Toward him.

"Green," he rumbles, his hands cupping the bottom of your feet, thumb and pointer coming to gently tug on your toes before moving his way up. You feel like a young, dewy-eyed farm girl having her first tumble in the hay and he's only now stroking the protruding bone of your ankle. The motion is slow, deliberate, a tender caress that sends a shiver up your spine. Has it truly been that long since you've had your body shape imprinted into the mattress?

"How about," you swallow thickly, "you patch me up proper and I'll be on my way?" If anyone else had heard, they'd say you're trying to convince yourself that being here isn't what you really want. But the little garble in your voice gives you away.

Simon hums, a sound that vibrates in your chest, sinks into the marrow of your bones. "Little bird wants t’go home 'nd 'ave only a throw 'nd a cat t'warm 'er bed?" You feel a different kind of ache this time, pulsing sharp and deep in your core. "Eh? Y'wanna curl up on the couch with one o’ those sex books while playin’ with your pretty cunt?" 

The idea of having to use the blue bullet sitting inside the nightstand drawer sounds unappealing. And it’s probably out of battery too. Damn. 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and shake your head. He doesn’t accept that as your answer.

"Wha's tha'? You will speak when spoken to, pet. Do you," he emphasizes the last word as he begins to open your legs by the knees, "wanna go home with an empty pussy or let me fill it 'til you're leaking cum out ya ears?"

Can't say no to him serenading you like that. You clench around nothing, hesitance crumbling like sand. "B-but what about your job? Aren't you still working?"

Simon grabs you then, dinner plate-sized hands wrapping around the softer part of your waist. "'M on a break. I'd say I deserve it after all my 'ard work." He lifts you effortlessly, the hem of your skirt rolling as you widen your legs further.

He rolls his hips once, feeling the bulge in his jeans brush against your sex, feather-light, and you bite on the thickest part of your tongue to keep from moaning like a cat in heat. "And what about us being in the open?" you ask though the question is redundant. Besides the crew's work vehicles, there's not another car in sight. If anyone else had been working nearby, they've long since left.

He seems to share your sentiment. "If tha's all? 'm tryin' t'see if I got it righ'."

No, that'll just about do it. "Okay. Alright." God knows you need this. Even if it comes from a stranger you'll probably never see again. Simon doesn't wait any longer, pushing up the rest of your skirt to pool above your thighs.

He hisses long and low through his teeth. "Tight little thing, innit?" Yeah, well. You were going to tell him that while putting on your skirt that morning had been an absolute nightmare, it wasn't that small on you until the tips of his fingers glided along your clothed slit. Oh. He's not talking about that.

"I guess grey's my new favorite colour. Especially this—" he thumbs the darkened wet spot on the fabric, "shade." When he adds more pressure, you can't help but let a gasp out as you buck your hips in want of more. "Easy. 'aven't even started with you." Simon opens the front of your blouse with a single hand, coming undone easily. He goes for the clip of your bra that's serendipitously placed on the front.

"Gotta let the girls breathe," he says. Whatever his reasoning doesn't matter because all there is, is relief. No more underwire digging into your skin, no more suffocating restraint. You only wore the blasted thing because all of your sports bras would've been visible through the blouse.

Simon rolls a hardened bud with one hand while unbuttoning the front of his jeans with the other. "Eatin' this," he gives the mound of your pussy a mean tap, "gonna 'ave t'wait. I'll get ya off though, don't worry tha' little head o' yours."

You wonder if he says that to everybody he fucks in the back of his truck. "What? Why?"

His length sits hot and heavy over your cunt. And it's big enough to kill. Death by cock. That'll be on your epitaph. "'m a big geezer," he mutters, fingers toying with the side of your panties, "lyin' down so you can sit your cunt on my face isn't gonna work righ' now."

Definitely says that to everybody. "Doesn't matter. I'll take care o'ya 'nother way." Simon pulls the dampened gusset to the side and lowers his head to— "Pretty like I thought it was." A fat glob of spit lands on the puffy lips of your pussy and he smears it around with his cock, tip sliding right along your clit. He uses his thumb to press himself down harder, more friction, more sensation, each slow roll of his hips pricking neglected nerves awake, alive, and it feels good. Surprisingly good.

The way the scar on his lip whitens as he bites it tells you it's just as good for him too. "Thought about it much, did you?" He goes lower this time, ruddy tip catching on your entrance momentarily before returning up.

"Since you walked inside a place you 'ave no business bein' in. Birds like you shouldn't be minglin' in the trenches with us grunts." The tips of your ears are hot as he stares down at you. "Should be sittin' nice 'nd pretty in a cubicle with air conditionin' 'nd an oversized mug o' watered-down coffee."

Simon cups the swell of your arse, canting your hips to glide himself better. Every bump and ridge on the underside of his cock is rubbing slowly on you and the thought of licking a slick stripe on the vein only tightens the white-hot coil below your navel.

"Or better yet, sittin' at home doin' wha'ever else while waitin' f'r a man like me to come back from work with a ribeye 'nd redskin potatoes in the oven." He lets your panties fall back into place; the sodden front almost transparent as he rubs against your swollen clit at the same time. God, he's fucking. your. panties! And you're bloody letting him.

What a way to break this year-long dry spell.

He bends your legs so that your feet are now being held flat on the thick of his chest with his hands as he picks up the pace. The suspension springs on the truck begin to groan. "I like mine medium rare."

Your back's come off the seat, spine bowed. You're close, so fucking close, you've got slick coating the inside of your thighs, dripping down to your arse, probably staining his polyester material underneath. This is torture and your pussy feels tender, raw, yet he's barely touching the focal point of your desire. If he doesn't make you come in the next minute, you're breaking that thick neck of his.

It's like he read your mind because he uses his cock to tap on your clit firmly, hard enough to hear a wet thwack and he does it once, thrice and—

And then your body gives, an intense climax that steals the breath in your very lungs, has you your blunt nails biting into the muscle of his forearms, his groan drowned out by the shrill ringing in your ears. Your face feels hot, probably is hot to the touch and there's a sting on the middle of your bottom lip and can taste iron on your tongue. Even the tips of your fingers tingle.

Through your half-lidded gaze, you see Simon holding onto the top of the truck while his breath comes in ragged gasps. Did he come? You curiously touch the expanse of your stomach. Not sticky.

"No. I didn't come. You," he takes in a deep, steadying breath then reaches to squeeze the sides of your face, cheeks plumping under the pressure. "You almost 'ad me, though. I don't remember the last time I 'ad to think tha' 'ard of London t'not finish. But I'm not done with you."

Simon hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and takes them off with urgency only to stuff them in his back pocket. "Better with no clothes on, remember." You can feel his twitching cock leak onto your heated skin.

"If ya need, use this." A black bundle of fabric lands on your chest, what is— It's a mask? If he means to hide your identity from his coworkers, you're not sure this skull mask is going to work. He drags you to him roughly until your arse is hanging off the seat. And then there's a hot, dull pressure pushing against your entrance that's followed by a searing sting, and it, it's so much, it's too m-

"Tight fucking-, Ya need t-, fuck, to relax," he grunts, fingers dimpling your thighs. Simon's thrusts are jerky, short, as he wrenches your walls apart. Even with your creamy cum and his spit it's still a struggle. "'Alf way there," and a rattled breath escapes you. You're being split right down the middle and there's still some left?

For the next few moments only your squeaks and mewls can be heard as he makes room for him, your hand flat on his lower stomach— feeling the coarse, thick patch of hair on it— as if you're trying to keep him away, out, something but then he snarls and snaps his hips. You've heard of a ring of fire some women experience at some point in their life and you think this is yours. The thin skin of your entrance burns, most likely stretched to its limit, like a rubber band about to snap.

"Easy," he drawls out, "The worst's over. Took me like you're made f'r me. G'mme ya 'and." He takes your clammy hand and has you touch where the two of you meet. His eyes are glued to your fingers that are split into a v, pads feeling your cunt soaked in viscous slick.

The groan he lets out at the sight makes the world around you spin. "Stay jus' like tha'." Sure, not like you’ve got anywhere to go. Not with his hands tight around you like metal cuffs. Simon holds nothing back, not even in the very first minute. Doesn't warm you up to it, don't let you try to get used to him turning you inside out. His thrusts are long, firm, hungry— bottoming out every single time until he sits snugly at the plug of your womb. Grinds up when he meets resistance, eyeing your features in case there's discomfort.

The only ache you've got is the one he's fucking into you. (And you also might be partly lying on his tape measurer.)

But then he hitches your legs up, hands around the back of your thighs as they're pushed toward your chest and that pulls a whine out of you that you're sure John and the crew heard. "There she is, bird's got a healthy set o' lungs on 'er." He keeps the same, unforgiving angle and doubles down, using the bulk of his weight to pin you in place, forced to do nothing but take and take and take.

Until Simon's strikes the side of your arse with an open palm. "D'ya hear 'em?" Wha? What? Hear who?

And then you hear it. Him. The handsome one with the hat from upstairs. "Ghost?" he sounds right across the street and Simon hasn't stopped rocking the truck as he fucks you right through it. "Wha's tha' Kyle?" His voice is steady even though there are beads of sweat rolling down the side of his temple.

"I said good job on all your 'ard work 'nd we'll see ya tomorrow. You 'ave a good night too, Miss." There's a crude whistle followed by a pained grunt and a quick mumbled apology. Maybe if you don't respond they'll just get in their car and go home.

But then John calls out to you too.

"Simon must’ve missed you, sweetheart. “Wow. He barks out a laugh. " 'ave yourself a good night, Miss.” Then, sternly says, “Tomorrow at 6, Simon.”

Simon, though, has no intention of letting you take the easy way out. He smacks your arse again, right in the same— already tender— spot from just moments before. "Answer 'em, pet. Or 'ave I fucked all the manners outta ya?" He accentuates the last three words with thrusts so sharp that if he hadn't been holding you in place, you would've been sent sprawling back.

Whatever words you're supposed to say are snagged in your throat like hooks, only whimpers and high-pitched gasps falling past your trembling lips. He drags his thumb over your bottom one, the calloused pad of it tough. "Go on. Be good 'nd tell 'em to 'ave a good night too. And no names. Only one comin’ outta you should be mine."

When you open your mouth, he weaves a hand down to your clit, jerking it in fast little circles that have you forgetting where you even are. "Mf- g-good," he gives you just a second of respite to spit on it. "Good night-," his fingers are almost torture, and god, you're going to come in front of all of them. You warble out the words hastily, feeling your impending orgasm come at you with the speed of a freight train.

"Tha's a good bird, singin' when I tell ya to." There's no stopping this, not with all of his focus on the little bundle of nerves and every drag of his cock making your spine arch as if he were winding it. "Squeeze my cock, tha's it."

Your legs shake violently, toes curled, and you can feel a cramp begin in your calf but none of it matters, not when you're seeing bright lights behind your scrunched eyelids, not when you feel fingers in your mouth to stifle the scream that's viciously wrenched from your throat nor when Simon growls out a "Fuckin' 'ell."

"I told ya, if ya needed somethin' t'bite on, use tha'," he jerks his head toward the mask that's tight in your fist. Your soul is still floating adrift in the wind and he's already trying to make conversation. And he did not say to bite on it.

"I'm not puttin' this unwashed thing in my mouth." You languidly watch him inspect his hand, looking at the deep purple teeth imprints on his fingers. Whoops.

"But you'll 'ave me after sweatin' under the bloody sun for 'ours." His hand slides behind your nape, lifting your head a bit as he lowers his chest to meet your sweat-slick one. Your hands come to claw at the shifting muscles of his back when he begins anew, this time his pace is relentless, sharp, predatory. He's a shark that has scented blood and is now on the hunt.

The prickling bristles of his facial hair scratch against your temple. "This," the hand around your neck tightens, your rapid pulse now roaring in your ears, "is the best pussy I've ever had." His thrusts are jarring, make your teeth clack together hard enough to hurt, and after a dozen of them, he comes with a cruel bite to the junction of your shoulder, snarl animalistic.

Hopefully, the guys drove off a while ago otherwise you're re-dressing and driving home with that mask Simon tossed your way.

Your blouse is unfortunately beyond saving. Your skirt isn’t faring any better if that massive tear in the front has anything to say about it and your shoulder will require at least half a bottle of concealer plus a couple of bandaids, which the first aid kit is completely empty of. Not even the first aid guide is inside. 

You sluggishly begin to button up one of Simon's spare flannel shirts when he asks you if you're hungry.

"No." Not really. Hard to feel much when most of your nerves from the ribs down are shot.

"Get in the front, I'd like t'eat my dinner soon." He's staring right at the apex of your legs, your cunt still throbbing from the abuse."'m 'ungry." There’s no tow car sign on the street, actually, there’s not even a simple stop sign here. 

It better not get towed. You’re not paying a dime if it does.

(Are your feet still hurting or can he fuck those too? No? Next time, then.)

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 25

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 24

Warning! My au is yandere and can detail gore. This chapter doesn't but previous chapters do.

The setting sun against the soft orange and yellows of the sky was a beautiful sight.

The hot wind cooled down into a warm breeze as people leisurely walked home, while others rushed to finish last minute tasks.

Inside Xinyue Kiosk, a fairly busy staff was running around as the weekend always brought more customers. 

The only room that didn't have staff running in and out of was a VIP seating set on the top floor. A beauty for sure, but no one other than the needed servers were allowed in.

Smoke was blown into the air between two imposing figures while waiters placed a variety of foods onto the wide circular table.

“You reported a successful mission, Yelan, and even got your payment.” Another inhale of tobacco through a pipe was followed with a lazy exhale. “Yet that Oracle still walks around without fear. I don't believe the revival of the deceased is possible just yet.”

Scoffing, Yelan popped another spicy appetizer into her mouth and let Ningguang wait for her answer.

“I said they were shot off a cliff and landed with a splatter on the ground. Should I have taken a picture with a Kamera as proof too?” 

Ningguang’s claw-like nails tapped on the table as she hummed contemplatively. “I assume you'll resume your hunt to finish the job?”

“My, how perceptive of the Tianquan to guess that I, who was severely injured and recently humiliated by a foreign smart mouth, wouldn't correct my mistake.”

The glowing blue dice in Yelan's hands shatters as the strings pull it apart. The hydro particles sharpen back into string as she lazily followed it with her eyes.

Her confident and unfazed demeanor wasn't suited to her beat up appearance. Bandages hidden beneath her clothing made it bulky in odd places, while her hand was stuck in a cast after it was crushed by the Geovishaps.

“That's good and all, but are you even physically fit to track them down? I know Dr. Baizhu refused you from his pharmacy, and he's the only one capable of healing you fast enough for this.” Ningguang paused to feed herself a few bites of Tianshu meat with her chopsticks. “Not to mention, The Oracle was the one who was healed by him instead.”

“I see you enjoy rubbing salt in my wounds.” Unperturbed by Ningguang’s taunts, Yelan crossed her legs as more hydro lines wrapped around the striking scratches on her arms that were left to heal on their own.

“Not that I'm surprised by that. You always did have a sadistic streak. My rare failures are the highlight of your day.” 

Pastel pink lips with a forming purple bruise at the corner were licked despite the pain as Yelan smiled. 

“But pain doesn't stop me, you know as well as I do that it only strengthens me further. And I've had more than enough days to regain my energy.”

Concluding the conversation, Yelan pushes herself off the chair and turns away, with the snow-white coat swaying behind her.

The clink of Ningguang’s cup being set on the table was enough for Yelan to slow down. To pause just in time to hear-

“I don't want you to kill The Oracle.”

Yelan came to a full stop at that.

She had tried to ignore how calm Ningguang was throughout the whole meeting. She had tried to brush off the amount of food Ningguang ordered. 

Furthermore, she even tried to not question Ningguang's change of vocabulary from calling Y/n ‘the faker’ to ‘the oracle’.

Ningguang only smiled politely, the exact way she knew Yelan despised, as the trinkets adorning the hydro user swayed.

“And no, this isn't a joke.” She never fucking thought it was a joke.

“You'll be able to keep your payment too.” She didn't want the damn payment.

Not a trace of fear could be seen in Ningguang’s maroon eyes that stared into emerald tones that never failed to invoke a chill in enemies.

The click of Yelan's heels were the only sound heard as the tassel attached to her collar bounced.

“Then why are you requesting me to stop my pursuit?” The white and gold of Ningguang's outfit clung to her body like second skin as she took her sweet time answering.

“I was a bit too hasty in my judgment. Something greater than us both showed me my error.”

Annoying.

That's how Yelan found Ningguang at times. 

Like she was greater than the rest. As if the Jade Chamber she spent her time in above everyone else placed her above in all other areas as well.

“Are you claiming that Y/N truly is the Oracle? Can the mighty words of the Tianquin prove that alone?”

“Careful Yelan, this kind of outburst isn't like you. I said it was greater than us both.”

Ningguang picked up her cup again and nursed it delicately.

“I simply want you to at least temporarily stop you until I'm sure of what to believe. This is just business, don't take-”

“Yes, yes, I already understand. Don't take it personally.” Yelan had already cooled down at this point.

There was no use in getting worked up over this. Although it was upsetting to find that she failed this job, if the employer no longer wanted it, then she wasn't going to push for it.

Pride and personal feelings should never get mixed up in this line of work, after all.

“I'll reach out to you at a later date for your next commission.” A server placed a piping plate of Cured Pork Dry Hotpot on the table, slipping Ningguang a piece of paper. “Just be sure to give Y/N the correct instructions on how to get here.”

Yelan ignored the Tianquan’s words as she walked to the door. “While I won't take any revenge on Y/N, do not expect me to come running back for this mission when they are inevitably shown to be a scam artist.”

The thought of Ningguang of all people being scammed is absurd. The two words just didn't belong together.

“I'm not one of your employees. You're just a commissioner at the end of the day. You seem to forget that fact.” Green eyes met red as both women masked their own faces with polite sarcasm.

“Don't take it personally.” The soft click of the door being shut left Ningguang in silence, with only the outside's bustle of activity to accompany her.

Amusement was clear on Ningguangs face as she took another long inhale of the pipe.

“Yelan never changes.”

--------------------

You didn't have much time left.

The sun was beginning to get masked by incoming gray clouds that no one seemed to notice before now.

It was funny how the first droplets started to come down on the woman you were arguing with when you asked for the time.

A single request for the time devolved into an argument about how all foreigners were suspicious and that only Morax deserved the title of Archon.

It was typical that you ended up asking the local nut job for the time. What would she even be? Racist? Godist? Archonist? 

Maybe it’s ethnocentrism.

So you just blindly believed that the dinner must be soon and left to the restaurant after watching a stream of water single her out and dump her with water.

A shame you couldn't enjoy it with how your stomach was cramped up from the upcoming meeting with Ningguang. You haven't been this nervous since your first meeting with your boss back on Earth.

It made sense. Both people were powerful, mysterious and used people without a second thought. 

The chilly breeze slowed your heartbeat as Xinyue Kiosk came into view, approaching the stairs leading up to the entrance, you spotted a very familiar figure next to the waitress.

Not slowing down, you walk up the stairs as jade eyes lock onto you with malice on the verge of hatred. A tsk leaves Yelan’s lips before she turns back to the waitress while pointing at you. “This is the Tianquan’s guest. Lead them to the room.”

Nodding, the waitress waits for you as you move past Yelan who doesn’t spare you another glance. Just as you followed the waitress into the entrance, the rain began to pour without warning.

You just barely caught sight of Yelan slipping on the last step due to the rain as her wet hair stuck to her skin. The door closed before she could see your little smile at her ‘misfortune’. 

It was a shame that Teyvat couldn’t help you in more meaningful ways, but these minor instances weren’t taken for granted either.

Following the waitress past multiple tables, you looked around it curiously. Usually the game just cuts straight to the room, so you never got a good look at the restaurant itself. Most of them looked to be regular customers with tables near each other.

Farther in, you could see a shift in the layout and type of customers. Larger tables with big gaps as the customers wore fancy clothing clearly made of high quality silk and cotton. A table with blue hair caught your eye the most.

A bored looking Xingqiu sat next to an older man with navy blue hair. His hair was tied in the most pitiful ponytail you’ve ever seen, but at least his fancy suit looked nice.

It took you a bit but you finally remembered it as the skin from the 4.4 Lantern Rite event. You almost missed how Xingqui noticed your presence and excitedly waved at you before his father began to scold him.

Smiling apologetically, you gave a brief wave back before following the waitress up the stairs. Just how much further was Ningguang’s room? It couldn’t have been cheap, that's for sure…

It wouldn’t be that uncomfortable to walk all this way if people could stop staring at you. Half the restaurant had to be giving you a side eye harsh enough to kill as you walked by.

Stopping at a door the waitress pulled it open as thunder roared outside giving a brief flash of white behind the window frame. Licking your lips, you entered the room while the door shut behind you with a soft click.

“I’m glad to see you’ve made time to meet me, Y/n.” The voice of the source of your stress and anxiety was sweet, if not seductive. Moving your eyes from the fresh plates of food to Ningguang who sat at the head of the table, you smiled sharply.

“You make it sound like I had a choice in the matter.” Striding forward, you took a seat on the opposite side of the table and helped yourself to the food. If you were going to die, you’d rather it be quick and with no regrets.

“I apologize for any inconvenience my request may have caused you. I’m sure many people have wanted to speak to you after your unfortunate encounter with Yelan and Miss Shenhe.” Wow, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

Taking your sweet time to chew and swallow your food, you leave Ningguang waiting until finally opening your mouth. “Why don’t you skip the sarcastic pleasantries? I already know your true colors, do you think the Creator is as stupid as you are?”

Fuck being nice and polite. She wants to treat you like some dumb foreigner that has no clue on the connections she holds? Then she can handle you acting like the annoyed and irritated person you currently are.

The smiles you both wear are mirror images of each other, the slightest downward tick of her lips showing her displeasure was far too easy to mimic.

“Then that makes things easier for both of us. Do you know why I invited you here to speak with me, Y/n?”

Again, you leave her waiting for your answer as you pick a few more dishes and savor the flavors. The dishes were wonderful, no doubt about that but…

You missed the taste of the hotpot you shared with the Kamisato’s more.

“I had assumed it was an apology for sending Yelan on me like a bloodhound. But perhaps you were just after certain pieces of information that I might hold.” Your mind wandered back to Beidou who had spoken to Ningguang after you gave that prophecy to Beidou on the Crux.

Although it felt like ages ago, it’s been less than a month since you left the Crux. From what you could recall, the prophecy you gave the crew was that all the monsters, Leylines and other strange behaviors were due to the Creator returning. 

Thinking back on it, you did largely gloss over the details to avoid being caught in your lie. Maybe that’s why Ningguang wanted you alive? After all, your words couldn’t be taken lightly after what happened with the Geovishap hatchlings. But she did send Yelan after that incident so unless she was late on hearing the situation, which was frankly impossible, she must have got some new evidence-

“Well, not quite, but it’s related so why don’t you listen to me before casting any judgment?” As if she was anyone to talk but interrupting her wasn’t worth it. Not when you could potentially find something useful.

Ningguang barely touches the food as you scarf it down like a man starved. Instead, she takes a long sip of her tea, purposefully leaving you waiting. Talk about petty, you think to yourself sarcastically as she sets her cup down.

“Recently I had a very unusual dream, I’ve had it once before but in a much different context.” A plain soup is stirred lazily as she stares down at the rippling liquid, she looks pensive with eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. “Rex Lapis appeared to me the night that Yelan reported a job completed. Now, isn’t that strange?”

You didn’t stop or slow down your chewing as your heart thundered in your chest. Zhongli really appeared in Ningguang’s dream again?! This had to have been what he was telling you earlier about thanking him.

Should you thank him with a smile or a slap for making things more complicated? It’d be easier to decide later.

With Ningguang’s expectant ruby eyes on you, you shrugged your shoulders with an easy smile. “Is it that strange? The Oracle of the Creator that we all worship had just been shot down by the orders of the Qixing that are from his own region. It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in.”

An amused hum leaves Ningguang as she listens to your words. Still not touching her soup, she set her utensils down to fold her hands. “Rex Lapis did not speak to me the first time he appeared to me. But this time he did, only saying one sentence. Can you guess what it is?”

The urge to roll your eyes at the predictable question was strong but your self-control was stronger. “It would be confirmation of me being the Oracle, of course. Anything else would be blasphemous.” 

“Do not be bewitched by novelties.”

The absurd and out of place words earned Ningguang your undivided attention. Your mouth opened to portray your shock and confusion, but your lips quirked to the side at the last moment in a disbelieving smile.

“Are you trying to say that, that sentence is what the Geo Archon said?”

“It is indeed.” Oh, you were going to smack Zhongli after this, screw the consequences! “I believe it’s safe to assume that he was talking about you.” A black gloved hand with gold claw like pieces attached were outstretched to you as she smiled down at you. 

“It’s just as you said, ‘It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in’ when someone is claiming to be connected to our All Mighty Creator only to be proven false. ‘Anything else would be blasphemous’ no?”

Wow, you were right to hate Ningguang. Her smile became as sharp as her nails as you relaxed back in your chair. You couldn’t give her anymore ammo. Any sign of hesitation, nervousness, or even a waiver of emotional instability is all she needed to corner you. 

In fact, this could all be a bluff! Zhongli truly believed you to be the Oracle, after all. Chances are that Ningguang altered Zhongli’s message to test you. Zhongli wouldn’t betray you, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

“And how am I supposed to blindly believe your words? After all, the first time Morax came to your dream you claimed that despite how much you wanted to tell him, you couldn’t say a single word.”

But it seems your reply was just a tad too late, as the heavy pounding of boots on wood flooring came from behind you. Pulling your eyes from blood-red ones to the Millelith guards now behind you, a hand grabs your hair and pushes you down.

The crack of the plates breaking and cutting into your jaw is only overshadowed by the food smearing your mask and skin. The humiliation is what really gets you riled up, but you swallow it down in favor of looking back to the modernized embodiment of mora herself.

“Is this really necessary? I wasn’t even getting up from my seat.” There’s a slight growl to your words that you don’t bother to mask as Ningguang lets her gaze move from you to the guards.

“They have a point. Release them, I only told you to use force if they display hostility.” Ningguang’s tone of voice is even, and not the usual professional kind. The soldier’s grip tightens for a brief, painful moment, before finally letting go and stepping back.

“My sincerest apologies for my misconduct, Lady Ningguang.” The soldier that touched you bowed to Ningguang as you glared at him. “But I implore you to take my reasoning into consideration.”

Pushing away the now destroyed dishes as a few servers cleaned up the mess, you listened halfheartedly to the soldier. “This person - no, this thing is the one responsible for the kidnapping and subsequent death of the most vulnerable children in this region.”

Blatantly, you sneered at the soldier while wiping off the food from your face. How dare he, a full-blown soldier no doubt trained to protect Liyue Harbor, accuse you of being the kidnapper when you were the one who saved them?!

Every soldier that you met when information gathering was more useless than the last!

Ningguang knew the truth, Xingqiu and Chongyun both told you how the Qixing were aware that you were the actual hero. Whipping your head to her, you stared at her to see just what answer she would give.

“Even still, disobeying my orders is enough cause for punishment. Return to the Ministry of Civil Affairs and have them send a different guard who can follow orders rather than emotions.”

The guard slumped at the scolding and glared bitterly at you, as you flipped him off in return. While watching him stomp away, you cursed Ningguang out internally.

She definitely knew the truth but was purposefully keeping her statements vague. Almost as if she was entertaining the idea of you being the one responsible. 

“I want you two to guard the door so Y/n doesn’t escape during this conversation. Do not make the same mistake as Zhenhai.”

It was her.

Ningguang’s the one who spread that rumor that’s messing up your reputation. You should have guessed it earlier. Only she could have the intelligence to figure out the truth, the connections to spread her lie, and the power to make it have a physical effect.

But why? What did she gain from it?

Lost in thoughts and possibilities, you didn’t notice how Ningguang observed you. Beige strands rest on her shoulders to flow down her back till the ashen tips pool on her seat. Yet the blood-red of her eyes shine with something akin to fascination as she watches your fingers thrum against the wooden table.

What a delight for the eyes.

The silence is interrupted by the door opening and fake cat ears come into view. A new soldier closes the door behind the Yueheng before standing guard as she takes a seat without asking.

“I hope I’m not too late. It seems my invitation to this crucial dinner got lost in the journey.” Keqing began with a pointed look at Ningguang.

Smiling, Ningguang greeted Keqing in a pleasant but professional manner. “What an unfortunate result. At least you were able to attend now, hm? They are bringing out golden shrimp balls soon too.”

Judging by the slight twitch in Keqing’s demeanor, you can tell that she was simultaneously both annoyed and grateful. What a shame, you could have used her annoyance towards Ningguang.

“A pleasure to meet you once again Y/n, Yun Jin was very thankful for your quick and efficient help.” Smiling once you’re addressed, you nod and squeeze your hands together under the table.

Yun Jin’s name still shot a vague feeling of displeasure through your body. And Keqing acting like it was nothing only further enhanced it.

“Her show was magnificent. I’m glad she was able to successfully perform that day.” Waiters and waitresses brought out some more drinks and refilled Ningguang’s tea without interrupting as you began to speak.

“Let’s not beat around the bush any longer. Keqing, you joined us here to help conclude whether I’m truly an Oracle or not, right?”

Ningguang watched coolly as Keqing’s smile relaxed into nothingness, while her stare became firm. “That is correct. But please, focus on what Ningguang brought up first concerning her dream gifted by Rex Lapis. I’ll be making my own judgment by the end of this dinner.”

Nodding, you shrug your shoulders and twirl your cup without looking at it. “That seems fair. The outcome will be the same regardless.” The confidence behind your eyes is shown in the way you smile and relax into your seat.

“Ningguang, you still haven’t answered my question as to why I should even believe your dream even happened and if so, whether those words are what Morax said. But I’ll let it go for now and focus on something else for the moment.”

Jabbing a thumb behind you at the silent guard, you speak with a mock curious tone. “Just why in the world are people assuming that I’m the one that kidnapped the children when I was the one who saved them?”

Magenta eyes meet red before both pairs turn to you. “And please don’t treat me like a fool.”  Resting your cheek on your palm, you sweetly spoke with a threat lingering in your words. “I already know that Ganyu couldn’t convince you both to think it was her who saved them.”

Ningguang sighs as if disappointed in your demeanor while setting her cup down. “The official details on the commission you took on are under wraps, just as the contract requires.” She looks down on you with her calm refusal as she finishes. “The Liyue Qixing isn’t responsible for what circulates and twists when it comes to word of mouth.”

You refuted her excuse just as fast. “I wasn’t asking the Qixing or the Tianqiuan. I was asking Ningguang.” Using your fingers, you begin to count the different instances of hostility.

“I’ve had people insult me, ignore me, discriminate against me, gossip behind my back and just as you saw before, even go as far as to be violent. If I went to Yanfei with this case against your personal guard Zhenhai I’m sure I could get a good settlement and put some bad light on you. Not anything serious, but surely annoying for you and the Qixing.”

Ningguang cleverly disguises her huff of irritation as her blowing steam off her tea, but you were just a little more observant than she gave you credit for.

“Should I even bring up how almost every medical equipment possible was either sold out or out of stock? The coincidence of it happening just as I was released from Bubu’s Pharmacy is a little too much to believe-”

“You’re still doing that Ningguang?” Keqing cuts you off accidentally to send an exasperated glare at Ningguang who only looked at her coldly in return. It seems you found something interesting to use. “It’s one thing to make my favorite dish out of stock, but it’s another to keep a medical necessity out of reach.”             

“So I was right to believe that this was also your doing Ningguang?” You said with a laugh as Keqing looked confusedly between you and Ningguang who nearly glowered at you. “You didn’t tell Keqing either? Isn’t that just swell, I’ll fill her in on it while you prepare your excuse.”

The way Ningguang bristled at your insult filled you with spiteful pleasure. Turning to Keqing who gave you a wary look, you began to explain with a smirk. “It seems, while I was being hunted down by Yelan under Ningguang’s orders, the high and mighty Tianquin took it upon herself to ruin my reputation with her lies. You do remember interrogating Ganyu about who rescued the kidnapped children?”

“Yes…” Keqing answers with a suspicious glare as the servers placed fresh food on the table. Just how many damn servings did Ningguang order? “How did you even know-ah it must have been those boys.”

Knowing exactly who Keqing was referring to, you just nod while piling more food onto your plate. “Well the rumor about me being the one to spread it was being perpetuated during my absence and truly came to a head when I finally returned to Liyue Harbor. I have a certain Lady Ningguang to thank for it.”  You sneered while pointing at her.

Keqing’s eyes widened as she listened to you, certain things must have been made clear to her too. “That explains why so many people came asking for an explanation on the Geovishap Hatchling incident.” Holding her chin with a pensive expression, she continued. “It also provides a good reasoning as to why you pushed me to give that public response even when our evidence was still shaky.”

… Why did you get a bad feeling at that?

Just what kind of statement was released? 

With a fixed forced smile you stare at Ningguang who frowns at you before chuckling. “There isn’t any more reasoning for me to stay silent on the matter. Calm yourself Keqing, you as well Y/n.”

Folding her hands on her lap, Ningguang stared you down as she began. “Yes, I did create and encourage the rumor of you being the true mastermind behind the kidnapping. You were already beginning to become well known by the people considering how close you are to certain people and due to the false prophesy you shared with Captain Beidou.”

“Not false, my prophecy is very much true-”

“And while I am happy to have the children saved, we can’t let you walk around spreading lies about your identity, position and relation to the Creator. Especially after the Geovishap Hatchling incident showing just dangerous you are.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with the hatchlings. I was just as stunned as everyone else.” It’s a weak argument with no evidence showing otherwise, but you couldn’t let them slap that offense on you.

“The statement released about you was connected to the hatchlings.” Keqing cut in with a grimace. “From what we can gather based off your past actions and achievements, you having the ability to puppeteer monsters is the most likely outcome, and we told the public as much.”

Shit.

They were so far off yet closer than anyone else.

“I can’t and didn’t command those Geovishaps. Even if I could, what would I gain from ordering them to do so? It puts suspicion on me. I have no motive, and it was defamation to single me out and slander me in such a way without evidence.”

Turning back to Ningguang you asked with clenched fists nearly trembling with anger. “You haven’t explained everything. What was your goal in mind with vilifying me? Just damaging my reputation is not reason enough to spend precious time and resources on me.”

The food was beginning to grow cold, but you didn’t have the appetite to eat anymore. Ningguang didn’t look at you, but the humor she previously had was nowhere to be found.

“It’s a shame that someone as sharp as you is using their skills for such sad and disappointing reasons.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of by being the Creator’s Oracle, no matter what trial and tribulations I must face.” Wow, you even impressed yourself with how serious and authentic you sounded.

“So you say.” Lithe fingers took out her pipe and leisurely left you waiting as you stared at her. Only after blowing it into your face did she finish. “What do you think would have happened if the foreigner with such a charismatic presence was suddenly found dead after rescuing children? How do you think the public would have reacted?”

Mind racing at her words, the surrounding setting seemed to fade away as your ears only picked up on Ningguang’s words. 

“Now imagine they appear back in the city, injured but alive to tell the tale. Influential people and the like come to visit as their good deeds are spread within the city. A fresh face on the scene with information that even extended to knowing about private conversations I’ve had. How many people with grudges too high and old to handle alone would come, offering a helping hand, a mutual beneficial contract that could help the ‘wronged’ foreigner?”

“Haha… Hahaha!” You’re laughing before you know it. A hand on your mouth, grinning so wide that it could break your face in half. Keqing’s surprised expression as she eats and Ningguang’s stoic expression are barely processed as you keep laughing.

It’s all so funny.

It’s all so fucking absurd.

You weren’t even greatly physically impacted by the lies. It was more like drops of water into a bucket for you.

But that bucket was already on the verge of overflowing and there was no hole for you to drain the water.

The fact that Ningguang needed to lie and make such stupid leaps of logic to libel you just so that the aftermath of your death wasn’t a hassle was simultaneously hilarious and pitiful. Adding in the extra benefit of it forcing you into a corner where no one would be willing to help you was just that to her. 

An extra benefit.

Maybe normal people would fall for the lies and not want to associate with you, but people of higher status would know better. They could tell when someone is being purposefully lied about. It was like an invisible mark on you, telling everyone that trying to help you was making an enemy of Ningguang.

That would explain why Xingqiu and Chongyun were suddenly pulled away by their families. All to corner you to being forced to meet Ningguang, forced to accept whatever accusation she wants to slap on you.

“You really are a piece of shit.” You said with a grin once your laughing slowed to a stop. 

Ningguang really mustn’t have expected it as her face visibly contorted into shock and her pipe slipped from her fingers. It’s understandable.

Most people in your position would already be begging for mercy, but even those who had more pride and fight would just go on a tirade and rage. To any outsider, you were far too calm for your position.

Besides, who would ever dare disrespect the Tiantquian not only to her face but right in front of the Yuheng too?

“Since you finished saying your piece, I’ll begin saying mine too. It’s clear that you don’t want to see reason or the truth for what it is.” Standing up, you push your seat away as the guards suddenly come to attention. “Since you don’t want to admit that I’m the Oracle, why don’t we focus on Liyue as a whole?”

With hands behind your back, you casually walked around the table closer to Ningguang as she put her hand up to stop the guards. “Let’s start with the kidnapping case. Not only were the soldiers useless in almost every aspect, both within and outside the city, but they also can’t even distinguish petty problems from the serious ones.” 

Stopping behind Ningguang you looked straight at the guards as you asked. “What’s more important? Chasing down rouge kidnappers or chasing a musician without a permit?” Both soldiers opened their mouth to answer, but Ningguang stopped them with a wave.

“This has nothing to do with the topic on hand. Stop avoiding your own faults and sins, Y/n.” She raised her cup to her lips as she looked at you with a turn of her head.

“Oh, but it does. It has everything to do with all the points you brought up.” Your hand snatched the cup from her opposite side as she glared indignantly at you. Keqings muffled laughter only made you grin wider as you returned to your seat. “This city has a lot of problems, but I am not one of them.”

“The fact that no one was willing to help me aside from Xingqiu and Chongyun, who both know me to be the Oracle, truly says a lot on how you and the Qixing run this city.” Sitting back down, you place the cup in the middle of the table, just out of her reach.

“So how could I not find it insulting that I, the only person to accept this commission, the driving force behind the operation, ended up the one taking the blame for it all. All for what exactly? To corner me when you didn’t even have proper reasoning to corner me in the first place?”

“We have every right to-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snapped with a clearly disgusted face. Ningguang wasn’t as shocked this time and sneered right back at you. Honestly, you envied Keqing the most, who was pleasantly eating the golden shrimp balls while watching you both.

“You heard multiple varying information about me and continuously chose to listen to the ones that painted me in the worst light possible. Yet instead of conducting your own investigation, instead of relying on chance encounters, you sent out Yelan to deal with me, basically leaving her to deal her own judgement on me.” Throwing your hands up in the air, you nearly yell at Ningguang. “Who the hell fed only the bad information on me! Did you even tell her about how Beidou vouched for me? Or about how Beisht listened to me?”

“Yelan has all the skills, qualifications, and experience necessary to do a thorough investigation and choose an accurate judgement. You’re free to take it up with her if you want to continue pleading your case.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. It was like talking to a brick wall. A very judgmental and snarky brick wall.

It seems you’ll have to resort to it after all.

“Yet out of all the crimes you could possibly pin me with, it’s the one on the case that I solely took on that you chose? Is it because you knew that no one in this damned city would give a shit about them? Because you knew that while no one wanted to take on the responsibility of acknowledging and helping the homeless, everyone would be more than happy to blame someone tangible for it?”

Ningguang faltered at that, it was brief but present.

“Or do you really hate your origins to that extent? Do you loathe the homeless that you once stood beside?”

Thunder roared outside as your words were spoken. The look on her face veered off the edge of hatred and into murder. The metaphorical slap your words provided weren’t to be taken lightly after all.

Perfect straight teeth dug into her lips as her nails dug into her hands, uncaring for how the blood stained her black gloves till even her gold pieces shined with it.

What a delight to behold.

“How dare you bring up this topic-”

If you can’t reach her level of perfection. 

“Spreading this level of nonsense, just how-”

Her level of composure.

“Do you feel no shame-”

 “Do you not feel any shame? I’m not the one who left and never looked back.”

Then you’d simply need to drag her down to yours.

“I have done no such thing!” The table shakes when Ningguang slams her hands down on it, making Keqing quickly lift her plate off as the more precarious plates fell off and shattered.

Grinning, you point and laugh at her, blatantly mocking her as she flushes with embarrassment. 

“You really are shameless, aren’t you? Floating around in your mobile home like a constant beacon of wealth and success. How do you think people feel when they see you up there? Do you think they look on with awe and envy?”

Standing up too, you rest your hands on the table to lean closer. “Or are you aware how all they can see is a symbol of the selfishness and a reminder of how mora can change a person?”

“It bothers you that no one even acknowledged how much of it sacrifice it was to you to give up the first Jade Chamber. Let alone be willing to do it again with its successor.” 

Ningguang’s shaky breath before she sits back down as you mirror her actions is as satisfying as you imagined it. Especially when she no longer focuses on the main topic to instead defend herself. “I’m not and will never be ashamed of my beginnings. I have always kept the past in my mind and actions.”

“Then why did it take an outsider like me to accept the commission to save a girl to save a whole group of homeless kids that we were what? Not missing? Not important enough for the Millelith to get involved in?”

“Should I even mention the underbelly of the docks? Where all the shady deals, vagrant and poverty-stricken people live?” Clapping slowly, you finish with a sarcastic tone. “I have to hand it to you, you really know how to hide them from the public.”

If you were completely honest, you knew Ningguang wasn’t that bad of a person. She was the epitome of a capitalist, and it wasn’t her responsibility to care for every homeless person in Liyue Harbor. 

Some people really did put themselves in their situations after all.

“There's nothing I can do for those who do not wish to be saved. Even if they aren't accepting of my help, I still do my part as the Tianquan to keep Liyue running for those who do want to accept my help.”

Food sitting forgotten on the table and Keqing discreetly ordering another plate of golden shrimp balls, not a soul dared to intervene in the growing argument between you and Ningguang.

“So by fixing the problem on the surface, your job is done? The ones who actually need help and want to better their lives are shoved in a corner to rot with the actual bad apples for the next Tianquian to deal with?”

“Twisting my words and shoving even more in my mouth to ‘win’ this argument isn’t the best idea.”

“Don’t get so offended Ningguang, all leaders are like you. Some even worse.” A few political figures from Earth flash in your mind as you speak. Sighing, you refocus back to Teyvat, knowing that your words would be too confusing if you tried to use anyone from Earth.

“Take the glorious Raiden Shogun or whatever other titles she uses.” Sarcasm coated your words as you spoke with a drawl. “Vagrants, the Nobushi and Kairagi are suffering from addictions, diseases and more without aid. Once well respected samurai that fell for one reason or another are left to suffer and commit crimes. Dying by their diseases, stealing from the poor and worse crimes are committed with the only outcomes being to die by the hands of defenders or by Tenryou soldiers.”

In your eyes, Inazuma was a mess. So many people died on the islands separate from Narukami Island. The vagrants were a constant and growing threat, most of the actual problems were solved by the traveler, yet the shogun picked a needless war that resulted in nothing but pain.

 Just how did this conversation derail from being about you being the oracle to this? It was tiring and at this point you nearly wanted to give in and just leave.

“Are you saying that you find Liyue better simply due to how it treats its people?” Ningguang asked, the slight smile on her face made you suspicious.

“Liyue isn’t better. Liyue is a standard, and Inazuma is just failing horribly in comparison. But who knows? Maybe in a few decades, it can compare to Sumeru who only recently got their God.”

“So what of the people in Inazuma? Are the Tri-Commision as bad as the Shogunate?”

“Despite the obvious bribery in both the Tenryou and Kanjou Comission, they do, do their damn job, The Yashiro Comission even goes above and beyond in comparison. They’re the reason Inazuma hasn’t lost its entire population.”

“So if you’re really the Oracle then how do you plan to help them?” Ningguang asks it in an analytical tone. As if she plans on judging your ‘plans’ when she’s the fucking Tianqiuan.

“I don’t need to make any plans. I don’t have a position in Teyvat.”  The retort comes with a little bite to your tone.

“You seem so certain that you’re the Oracle that I wanted to hear what your plans were for having that position.”

Did she believe that you made up this position for your own benefit? Well yes, yes you did, but certainly not for the financial benefit she seems to be imagining. “Let me straighten something out for you, Ningguang, Cause for as high and mighty you believe yourself to be, you don’t know everything. I’m not the traveler. My job isn’t to bend over backwards to do your job, it’s to prophecy about matters concerning the Creator. If the Creator told me about Liyue’s destruction and ordered me to stay silent, I would happily do so and watch every citizen drown without batting an eye, understand?”

Whatever reaction you were expecting didn’t happen as Ningguang began to laugh. But it wasn’t the mocking or condescending laughter she had before. Instead, she seemed truly amazed or even relieved.

“I understand now. I can now accept you as the Oracle by my own judgment, too.” 

The confusion and slight perturbation at her words must have been on your face as she slowed her laughter to a mere chuckle.

“I apologize for what I’m about to tell you. You remember the dream I had concerning Rex Lapis? Well, I may have twisted his words for my own cause.”

You were fucking right, but you couldn’t even enjoy it, since it took you nearly an hour to get to this point in the conversation.

“If you weren’t the Tianquin, you would be in some serious legal trouble Ningguang. I can name at least 3 different laws you almost broke.” Keqing surprisingly spoke up at this moment. Honestly, you had forgotten about her, not that she seemed to mind.

“You can scold Ningguang after she enlightens me to what his true message was. How much mora should I bet that he was confirming me as the oracle?” Ignoring the snark, Ningguang clears her throat before snapping her fingers and motioning to the dirty plates on the table. The workers took the plates away before she dramatically rested her elbows on the now cleared table.

“Not every bewitching novelty is meant to cause harm, some lead to everlasting contracts.”

Maybe you should still punch Zhongli, what kind of help was that supposed to be?! Couldn’t he be direct rather than poetic?!

“That message was vague but clear enough for me to link it to you. Thus, I decided to invite you here to see if you really did deserve the title of Oracle and whether we could trust you or not.”

What a load of bullshit-

“I agree with Ningguang on this. While many things seemed suspicious concerning you, this conversation was helpful for us to see your real motives and future actions.”

And of course Keqing had to agree with the smirking vixen, making you calmly nod in response. This whole dinner felt like a haze to you at least point. 

Not only did you have to prove that being an Oracle was real, attack Ningguang on several personal points and proceed with many, many leaps in logic. Just to find out, that she fucking knew the truth all along!

You weren’t even going to get compensation for all the troubles she caused, either.

It was clear to you why no one wanted to mess with Ningguang outside the usual bankruptcy. She was too annoying and petty as hell for anyone to want to deal with.

“I recognize that I did you a disservice by having Yelan investigate you before this dinner. For that, I do apologize and even have an offer for you.” 

If it wasn’t money or connections, you didn’t want it.

“I’ll provide you with monetary compensation as long as you give a detailed speech and answer questions about the Creator’s return in my ‘mobile home’ as you called it.”

“If you didn’t know or remember, my presence and journey here is supposed to be discreet-”

“How does 5 million mora sound to start?”

… Maybe Ningguang wasn’t that bad after all.

“When do I have to give this speech? If it’s just the members of the Qixing, I’ll do it, but not publicly.”

Distantly you can hear Keqing sigh as Ningguang smiled pleasantly at you but you couldn’t hear it over the imaginary clinking of mora coming into your bag.

Money is what forced you to accept Ningguang’s offer for dinner. Much like on Earth, money is power.

It's done, it's finished and I'm even more tired then before. My last chapter was when my semester was ending and my new chapter is just as my semester is going to start. Please blame my job, my bills and Sandrock for the reason behind why this one took so long. I've been writing small things, mostly on Wattpad since it's just easy, but I feel like my writing style is constantly changing. Or it's just me again. But whatever the case, I've just been doing that to not get too rusty. Ningguang is hard to write for, mostly in relation to the reader rather then with other people. Not sure why, it just feels that way. It was a struggle to end the conversation with her but ultimately it works. Ningguang is just too canonically powerful to not have the upper hand in every way. Even still this chapter was also hard to write because I had to use so much thinking and planning to keep things consistent not only to the game but also to the other chapters. My au isn't one of extreme violence so I'm aware that it's harder to become engaged or see how threatening this version of Teyvat is. Quick update before I post, I either will answer everything or nothing as my youngest cat might need to go into surgery soon. The little vacuum ate metal while I was at work and the vet already said that if he does get surgery he might not make it.

Taglists is open as always and hopefully won't be struck down by Tumblr! [Tumblr made some changes to the tagging system so I'm not sure if it's working like before. If your name is there and not in italics yet you weren't tagged then let me know.]

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[tiredeg]

People everywhere sense imminent danger all around. They sense that whatever just happened is the beginning of the savagery, not the end. People abandon their vehicles and begin to flee on foot. They exit buildings, run down stairs and out doors. People in subway trains and on busses, in halted elevator cars, work to pry open emergency exits and doors. They crawl, walk, and run for their lives. The most basic human instinct is to survive.—Annie Jacobsen, Nuclear War: A Scenario

They’re going to die, probably.  

“It was stupid of us to take the elevator,” Oscar says. 

Carlos manages an eye roll back at him. Oscar’s surprised the motion of his eyeballs doesn’t unbalance him, perched as he is on the railing around the edge of the elevator car, calves straining, reaching his phone up towards the emergency lighting strips. As high as possible, as if he can will the texts out of his phone, force the words out of the frozen elevator, up the shaft and out into the sky, send them floating through the air towards the recipients, soaring past the bombs coming the opposite way. 

Oscar’s no expert but he knows enough Spanish to be able to decipher the glimpses he’s managed of the screen. I will be ok. I love you all. Incongruous against the previous message in the thread, a picture of a scrappy white dog asleep on a couch. Oscar had watched Carlos add a heart react to it not two hours ago when they got back to the hotel after FP2. 

God, two hours ago. One hour and fifty minutes before someone told them to check their phones, before the awful silence as they watched the video. A farmer somewhere in California had put it on Facebook, a mushroom cloud blooming over a power plant. It was shared everywhere, Oscar had watched it with Kim, hunched over Twitter, or X, or whatever. The farmer is probably dead now. Facebook certainly is, anyway.

The bomb hit hundreds of miles away from their hotels in Vegas. Not far enough.

Finally, Carlos hops down, collapsing beside Oscar on the floor of the cab. The wall opposite them is a mirror, floor to ceiling, so Oscar doesn’t have to turn his head. It’s easier this way. 

“I think they have gone through,” Carlos blurts out, like he’d wanted to keep quiet but the words forced their way up his throat. “It has the two grey ticks. I think that means it's gone from my phone but I will not get blue ticks without signal.” 

It takes Oscar a second to catch his drift. There’s no way the messages went through. The signal’s been gone for a few minutes, Oscar reckons, about the same time the elevator stopped. Carlos isn’t an idiot, he must know. Oscar knows. 

“I think that’s right,” Oscar says. “They’ll have signal in Spain still, so they’ll have got it.” 

He feels Carlos sag a little at his words. They’re touching from shoulder to knee, something they wouldn’t have risked this morning. Doesn’t matter now. Probably shouldn’t have mattered at the time. 

“How would you go, if you could choose?” Carlos asks.  

Oscar shrugs. “Dunno, never really thought about it.” 

“Don’t be boring, think about it now.” Carlos shoves into him, puts his body weight behind it, but Oscar’s expecting it, can see him decide in the mirror. He braces himself, doesn’t move. Now they’re tangled. Now he can think. 

“I guess I read this book in school. It was nuclear stuff but not bombs, just radiation, so it was really slow. This one girl took her boyfriend’s good car out for one last drive, then floored it off a cliff in the end. I think I’d like that.” 

Carlos doesn’t say anything, just leans his head onto Oscar’s shoulder proper. If they stay like this too long Oscar won’t be able to feel his arm. Maybe that’s how he’d like to go, let Carlos lean on him limb by limb until he can’t feel anything anymore.  

“He was with her? The boyfriend?” Carlos mumbles. 

“Huh?” 

“In the nice car. Was she with her boyfriend?” 

“Oh, well not exactly, he was in a submarine I think, I don’t remember it all. They might not have been boyfriend and girlfriend actually, or maybe they were, I don’t know. They definitely loved each other.” 

“Oh,” Carlos says, “that’s nice.” 

“Yeah. What about you, what way would you go?” 

Oscar watches in the mirror as Carlos looks up at him.  

“I had a different answer but I like yours better, I think.” 

“Copycat. I suppose you can come along.” Oscar shifts, rearranging Carlos’s arms around him. 

“Who would drive?” Carlos asks. 

Oscar wants to be the one who wants to drive. He could take that role, let Carlos hold on as their imaginary car gets closer to the point of no return, make the decision to keep the car pointing forward, his foot to the floor. He could take the wheel, if he had to. 

In the mirror he can see Carlos is still looking at him. He meets his own eyes in the reflection, then lets his head turn, lets himself look for real. 

“I don’t want to drive,” Oscar whispers.

“Okay,” Carlos shrugs, easy. “I’ll do it.” 

The emergency strips go dark. Oscar doesn’t know what that means, why they worked when the power went out or why they’ve stopped now. He’s annoyed at how he expects his eyes to adjust, blinking hard when they don’t as if he can force the nonexistent light into his pupils.  

He can still feel. He’s shaking, he thinks. Carlos’s arms tighten around him, unsteady too. Oscar revises his previous answer, overwhelmingly glad of the elevator; they can’t get lost in here, it’s too small. He doesn’t really know the timeline on these things, maybe it’ll take a day, maybe a few seconds. They’re here for now. 

[qwibkwib]

On the Cliff,

Part 2

part 1

Park Jiwon (Fromis_9) X Male reader

Word Count: 11.7k+

a/n: Few days after the 1st part.

The steady hum of the office barely registers in your mind—the clatter of keyboards, the muffled conversations, the occasional shrill ring of a phone. It’s all just background noise, drowned out by the thoughts you can’t seem to shake.

Jiwon.

You stare at the contract in front of you, the words blurring into meaningless lines of text. Your pen rests idle in your hand, tapping against the desk in an erratic rhythm. It’s been fifteen minutes, and you haven’t flipped a page.

She left.

Slipped away before the sun even rose, without a word, without a trace—except for the crumpled bills she left on the nightstand.

Your jaw tightens at the memory. Did she really think it was just a one-night thing? That she could simply walk away and pay it off like some meaningless transaction? The thought settles in your chest like a dull ache, an irritation you can't quite ignore.

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply.

You’re not the type to dwell on these things. And yet, here you are.

A sharp knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.

“Sir,” comes a familiar voice, laced with just the right amount of exasperation. “If you’re done brooding dramatically, the board meeting is in thirty minutes. You know, the thing that actually pays your bills?”

You glance up to find Jihoon standing in the doorway, a stack of documents in his hands, the usual tired patience in his expression.

“Brooding?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t brood.”

Jihoon snorts, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “Right. And I’m quitting tomorrow.” He drops the files onto your desk with a dull thud. “You’ve been staring at that page like it’s about to confess its undying love for you. Which, by the way, is kind of unsettling.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “I was thinking.”

“Oh, I can tell. Must be exhausting for you.” Jihoon crosses his arms, watching you closely. “Let me guess—woman trouble?”

You don’t answer, which only makes his grin widen.

“Called it. So, what’s her name?”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second before muttering, “Park Jiwon.”

Jihoon’s brow furrows for a moment, then his eyes widen slightly in recognition. “Wait... Park Jiwon? As in Park Sangho’s daughter?”

The name sits on your tongue uncomfortably. “Park Sangho?”

Jihoon nods. “Yeah, Park Sangho. CEO of Park Conglomerate. Or what’s left of it. They’ve been struggling for a while now.” He pauses, eyeing you carefully. “And his daughter... well, there’s been talk about her getting married off to Director Kang.”

Your fingers tap against the desk. Kang. You know the name well enough—ruthless in business, worse with women. The kind of man who takes what he wants without a second thought.

Jihoon smirks. “Sounds like she dodged a bullet, running into you instead.”

You don’t laugh. If anything, the thought irritates you more. Jiwon thought she could slip away quietly, disappear before anyone noticed. Too bad she met you instead.

Reaching into your drawer, you pull out the grainy black-and-white photo—the one you got from the paparazzi before they had a chance to release it. You and Jiwon, walking into the hotel together.

You should have deleted it, like you always do. But this time, you didn’t.

You slide the photo across the desk. “Spread it.”

Jihoon blinks. “You serious? This’ll stir up a mess.”

“That’s the point.” Your voice is steady, calculated.

Jihoon gives you a long look before shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You watch him pick up the photo, your mind already working three steps ahead.

Jiwon didn’t know your name when she left.

But soon enough, she’d have no choice but to remember it.

She thought she could run.

But you’re not done with her yet.

A Few Days Later

You sit at your desk, staring at the glossy tablet in front of you. The bold headline screams back at you, accompanied by the grainy photo of you and Jiwon entering the hotel that night.

“Park Jiwon: Desperate Heiress or CEO Yoon’s Latest Fling?”

The article dances around the idea with just enough venom to sting. It paints Jiwon as a woman clinging to survival, her family’s struggling business hanging by a thread, subtly implying that she’s using you to climb her way back up.

You should have seen this coming. Hell, you did see it coming. You were the one who leaked the photo, after all. And yet, something about the way they talk about her—like she’s nothing more than a desperate opportunist—makes your jaw tighten.

Your grip on the tablet hardens before you toss it onto the desk, exhaling sharply.

The intercom buzz “Sir, your grandmother is here to see you—”.

You barely have time to let that information settle before your office door swings open without warning.

"Where are you?!"

You don't need to look up to know who it is. The sharp, authoritative voice—tinged with just enough warmth to remind you she still cares—belongs to only one person.

Your grandmother.

With Jihoon following after her.

"Do you ever knock?" you mutter, running a hand through your hair as she marches in, holding up the same tabloid you were just glaring at.

"I don't need to knock when my dear grandson's face is plastered all over the media with a young woman he's clearly trying to ruin!" she huffs, dropping the magazine onto your desk with a disapproving glare. "Care to explain, dear?"

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. "It’s just a photo. The media exaggerates everything, you know that."

Your grandmother eyes you sternly, lips pursed in that way that makes you feel like you're fifteen again, being scolded for skipping out on family dinners. "Don't play dumb with me, Dear. I taught you better than that."

Before you can offer another half-hearted excuse, her expression softens—just slightly—as she picks up the tablet and runs her fingers over Jiwon’s picture.

"This poor girl," she murmurs, almost to herself. "I remember Park Jiwon. Such a sweet child when I last saw her. Always so polite and thoughtful.” Her eyes flick back to you, sharp once more. “Unlike someone I know.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "I'm sure she’s doing just fine, Grandmother."

"Hmph," she scoffs. "Fine? With her father’s company sinking and now the press tarnishing her name?" She fixes you with a look that could cut through steel. "Tell me, dear. Did you even consider how this might affect her?"

You don't answer right away, which only makes her sigh in disappointment. "Of course you didn't. You're too busy playing your little power games to see what's right in front of you."

Your jaw tightens. "She left me, you know."

Your grandmother raises a delicate brow. "Oh, poor you. A woman left you for once in your life."

You grit your teeth. "That's not the point."

"No," she agrees, settling into the chair across from you. "The point is, you caused a scandal, and now the least you can do is take responsibility."

You arch a brow. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

She gives you a pointed look, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Marry her."

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, dear." Her tone is sweet, but there's steel beneath it. "You've already dragged her name through the mud. The decent thing to do would be to make an honest woman out of her."

You let out a humorless chuckle. "And let me guess, this has nothing to do with your constant nagging about settling down?"

"Of course it does," she says matter-of-factly, offering a saccharine smile. "But more importantly, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. She needs protection from vultures like Director Kang, and you..." She tilts her head. "You need someone who won’t let you get away with this nonsense anymore."

You exhale, pacing toward the window. Marry Jiwon? The idea should be absurd. You don’t do marriage, relationships, or anything that even remotely resembles commitment. And yet…

Your grandmother watches you closely, her voice softer now. "She's a good girl, Seojoon. And I have no doubt she can handle you."

You glance back at the photo on your desk. Jiwon, with her hesitant smile and those guarded eyes.

Maybe she could.

But claiming her—making her yours—wasn’t about saving her. It never was.

It was about something far more selfish.

You turn back to your grandmother, expression unreadable. "And if I refuse?"

She smiles knowingly. "Then I’ll do what I always do—make your life a living hell until you see reason."

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "Of course you will."

"Good." She stands, smoothing out her coat with deliberate care. "Call her now. Arrange a meeting."

"Now?" You blink, surprised by her urgency.

Your grandmother gives you a pointed look. "Yes, now. Do you think I don't know you, dear?"

You lean back in your chair, stalling. "I don't even have her number."

She merely lifts a brow, unimpressed. "Then call her family."

Before you can protest, her gaze shifts to Jihoon, who straightens under the silent command. Without hesitation, he pulls out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen. Within moments, he steps forward, presenting the device to you with an expectant expression.

The call screen stares back at you, one press away from dialing.

Park Conglomerate.

You glance between the phone and your grandmother, who offers you a sweet yet undeniably stern smile. "Go on, dear. I'm waiting."

You exhale slowly, your fingers hovering over the screen.

Jiwon thought she could leave quietly, slip away without a trace.

She was wrong.

Jiwon let out a tired sigh as she stepped into her bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on her shoulders. The soft click of the door behind her sealed her in the quiet sanctuary of her space, a brief moment of solitude she desperately needed.

She walked over to her desk, her movements slow and deliberate, fingers reaching up to remove the delicate earrings that adorned her ears. One by one, she placed them on the glass tray beside her scattered notes and half-empty coffee cups. The cool air brushed against her skin, but her mind was elsewhere.

No matter how much she tried to push it aside, the memories of that night refused to leave her mind. They clung to her like a second skin, vivid and unrelenting, replaying in her thoughts when she least expected it. She could still feel his touch—firm, demanding, yet oddly tender. The way his hands had roamed her body, possessive yet reverent, as if he were memorizing every curve, every inch of her. The heat of his lips tracing along her neck, the scrape of his teeth against her sensitive skin, the way his breath had hitched when she shivered under his touch. It had been overwhelming, intoxicating, and she had been powerless to resist.

Her fingertips grazed the side of her neck absently, recalling the ghost of his touch. She could still feel the faint ache where he had marked her, the memory of his mouth on her skin sending a shiver down her spine. She shouldn’t be thinking about it, shouldn’t be replaying every stolen moment, but she was. It was as if he’d left an invisible mark that wouldn’t fade, a brand that lingered long after the night had ended.

She closed her eyes, and the images came flooding back—his body pressing against hers, the weight of him pinning her to the bed, the way his hips had moved with a rhythm that left her breathless. She could still feel the way he had filled her, the stretch and burn giving way to a pleasure so intense it had left her trembling. His voice, low and rough in her ear, murmuring words she could barely comprehend through the haze of desire. “Moan for me, Jiwon… let it all out.”

Her breath hitched as she remembered the way his hands had gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his touch both commanding and gentle. The way he had looked at her, his dark eyes filled with a hunger that had both terrified and thrilled her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so utterly desired. And when he had finally brought her to the edge, her body arching into his as she fell apart.

Even now, the memory of it made her pulse quicken, her skin flushing with heat. She could still feel the way his lips had claimed hers, the way his tongue had tangled with hers in a kiss that had left her dizzy. The way his hands had explored her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The way he had whispered her name, his voice rough with need, as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

She shouldn’t be thinking about it. She shouldn’t be craving the feel of his hands on her skin, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress, the way he had made her feel so alive, so wanted. But she was. And no matter how hard she tried to push the memories away, they always came back, more vivid, more consuming than before. It was as if he had awakened something in her, something she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she tried.

Her fingers trailed lower, brushing over her collarbone, and she could almost feel his lips following the same path, his breath hot against her skin. She bit her lip, her body betraying her as a flush of warmth spread through her. She shouldn’t be thinking about it. But she was. And she couldn’t stop.

It was just one night, she reminded herself, shaking her head as if to dispel the thoughts. A mistake.

She sighed, pulling her hair loose from its clip, letting the strands fall around her shoulders. Maybe some sleep would finally help clear her mind.

But just as she reached for her journal, a sudden, thunderous voice shattered the calm.

"JIWON!"

Her father’s voice, laced with pure, unrestrained rage, echoed through the house. The sound of her name being screamed like that sent a shiver down her spine. She barely had time to react before the heavy, relentless banging on her door followed.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Open this door right now!" her father bellowed, his fists hammering against the wood with enough force to rattle it in its frame.

Jiwon's breath caught in her throat, heart pounding wildly in her chest. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what had set him off this time, but deep down, she had a sinking feeling she already knew.

Swallowing hard, she took a step toward the door, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the handle.

"I said open it!" he roared again, the anger in his voice cutting through her hesitation like a knife.

Jiwon closed her eyes for a brief second, bracing herself for whatever storm was about to come crashing through that door. She inhaled shakily, steadying herself before unlocking it.

Before she could even turn the knob, the door swung open violently, slamming into her and making her stumble back.

“You fucking bitch!” Her father’s voice tore through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

“Fa—Father…” Jiwon’s voice wavered as she tried to meet his eyes, but before she could—

Slap.

The force of his hand sent her head snapping to the side, a sharp sting blooming across her cheek.

"I raised you, and this is how you repay me?" His voice was a furious snarl. "I should have listened—I should have left you with your mother. Her filthy blood runs through you. Just like her, you're nothing but a disgrace."

Jiwon trembled, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes. Her mind struggled to catch up with what was happening, the shock paralyzing her.

“F-Father, wh—what? Wh-why?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with fear.

"Don't you dare pretend you don't know!" he roared, stepping closer, his grip seizing her wrist with crushing force. "I told you to be obedient, to marry Director Kang, and now you're out there sleeping with another man? Do you have any idea how this makes me look? How it tarnishes my company’s reputation?"

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her tears spilling over. “Father… I—I was mistaken, I—”

“Mistaken?!” He yanked her forward, dragging her across the entryway. “You're not my daughter anymore! You’ve humiliated me for the last time.”

“Please, Father, wait—” she sobbed, struggling against his iron grip, but he ignored her, dragging her toward the front door. The harsh fluorescent lighting above made everything feel even colder, emptier.

From the grand staircase, her stepmother watched with an unsettling calm, her lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. She didn’t move, didn’t speak—just observed, as if this was nothing more than an inevitability she had been waiting for.

"You want to act like a whore? Then go and live like one!" he spat, throwing the door open and shoving her out onto the cold pavement outside. Jiwon staggered, barely catching herself before she fell.

Her father turned away without a second glance, already dismissing her existence. But her stepmother lingered.

Her stepmother stands before the gate, arms crossed, a thin smile tugging at her lips. For a moment, she simply observed, as if savoring the sight of Jiwon trembling.

Jiwon swallowed hard, lifting tearful eyes. “Mother, please…”

Her stepmother crouched gracefully, her touch deceptively gentle as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind Jiwon’s ear. “Oh, Jiwon,” she sighed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “You always were so naive.”

Jiwon’s lips trembled, guilt pressing down on her chest. “I… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Her stepmother smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “Of course you didn’t, dear. You never do, do you?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in mock disapproval. “But intentions don’t erase consequences.”

Jiwon looked down, shame crawling through her. “I just… I thought…”

Her stepmother's fingers tightened slightly on her chin, lifting her face. “You thought you could play in a world that doesn't belong to you,” she said softly, though there was something sharp beneath her words, something cruel. “You thought you could be reckless and not pay the price. But you’re just like your mother, aren’t you? Always chasing things beyond your reach.”

Jiwon blinked rapidly, her stepmother's words slicing through her defenses with precision. "I—I didn't mean to—"

Her stepmother laughed lightly, standing back up. “I know, dear. But mistakes like yours? They leave stains that don’t wash off easily.” She glanced at the looming gates. “You’ve embarrassed your father for the last time. It’s better this way.”

Jiwon nodded slowly, tears falling freely now. Deep down, she believed it too. This was her fault. No one else’s.

Her stepmother turned back toward the house, pausing at the threshold. She tilted her head, watching Jiwon with a smile that didn’t match the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Take care of yourself, Jiwon,” she said sweetly, before glancing at the guards. “Close it.”

As the gates groaned shut, sealing her out, her stepmother’s voice drifted through the cold air one last time. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll convince your father to at least continue treating your mother. Someone has to think of her well-being, after all.”

She stood frozen, chest heaving, her hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of her dress. The cold night air bit at her skin, her hair falling in disheveled strands around her face. Her cheek still burned from the slap, and the ache in her chest threatened to crush her.

Then, her phone vibrated in her pocket, the sudden buzz cutting through the suffocating silence. With shaking hands, she fumbled it out, her blurred vision struggling to focus on the screen.

A notification.

Breaking News: Heir of Park Conglomerate spotted with chaebol bachelor—scandal unfolds.

Jiwon's breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded violently as she stared at the photo accompanying the headline—her and him, stepping into the hotel together, the grainy image unmistakably damning.

Her fingers tightened around the phone, the cold metal trembling against her skin.

The realization hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with relentless force.

She should have known better.

She should have never let herself be so reckless, so desperate for something—anything—that she thought for even a moment he could offer her.

She was the one who let him too close.

She was the one who fell for the way he touched her, the way he looked at her like she was something more than just a pawn in her father’s plans.

She was the one who let a single night ruin everything.

You watch as Jihoon dials the number, his expression calm and professional. The phone rings a few times before someone on the other end picks up.

"Hello, this is Park Group. How may I assist you?" a polite yet detached voice answers.

Jihoon leans slightly forward. "Good evening, this is Jihoon from J Group. We’d like to speak with Chairman Park regarding an important matter."

There’s a brief pause, a faint shuffle on the other end before the voice responds. "Please hold, I'll transfer you to the chairman."

Jihoon meets your eyes, giving you a subtle nod as he waits. A few seconds later, the line clicks.

"This is Chairman Park," the familiar, calculated voice filters through the speaker.

Jihoon quickly hands you the phone, his voice steady but respectful. "Sir, Chairman Park is on the line. I've introduced you as the CEO of J Group."

You take the phone, your grip firm, and bring it to your ear. "Chairman Park," you say evenly.

A brief silence, then his voice, smooth and unreadable, replies, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

“I’d like to discuss a potential marriage arrangement,” you cut straight to the point, feeling the weight of your grandmother’s gaze on you. She’s watching carefully, waiting for every word.

The line falls silent for a moment too long. Then, Chairman Park’s voice, still smooth but with an underlying note of surprise, responds. “A marriage arrangement? Isn’t this... sudden?”

You lean back in your chair, the cool surface of the desk beneath your fingertips grounding you. “Circumstances have changed. I believe it would be in both our interests to resolve this sooner rather than later.”

There’s another silence, as if the man is considering your words carefully. Then, after a pause, he speaks again. “Very well.”

You nod, though he can’t see you. “Perfect. I’ll send you the address, Lets meet there later at 8. ”

But then, you can’t help it — you have to ask. “And Jiwon?”

For a moment, the line is quiet again, and when Chairman Park responds, his tone is careful, almost rehearsed. “She’s... currently unavailable.”

You don’t let it slide. “I’d still like to speak with her.”

There’s a shift in his tone, subtle but noticeable. “She’s resting. This has been... overwhelming for her, as you can imagine.”

Your brow furrows, but you keep your voice steady. “I’d like to hear that from her myself.”

He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’re persistent, Don’t you think?”

“I have to be,” you reply, your grip on the phone tightening. Something doesn’t feel right.

Another pause, then, “I’m afraid Jiwon isn’t in a position to talk right now. But don’t worry, you’ll see her soon enough.”

Your eyes narrow, your instincts prickling with unease. Something isn’t adding up. You exchange a glance with your grandmother, who’s watching you closely. The unease swirling in your chest tightens.

“Understood,” you say, your voice calm, but there’s an edge to it now. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You hang up, the silence of the room heavy in the wake of the conversation. Your grandmother’s eyes are on you, sharp as ever.

“What is it?” she asks, sensing the shift in you.

You place the phone down, your fingers lingering on the edge as you stare at it. Something is wrong. The way Chairman Park avoided your questions, the way he kept circling around Jiwon’s whereabouts... you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than he’s letting on.

“So… did they agree?” your grandmother asks impatiently, her sharp eyes studying you like a hawk.

"Yeah, later at eight," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jihoon will send you the address."

She nods, satisfied for now, but you can feel the weight of her expectations pressing down on you.

You rise from your chair abruptly, already reaching for your coat. “I have to go somewhere first,” you say, your mind racing ahead.

Jihoon, standing quietly by the door, perks up at your sudden movement. His eyes flick to yours, waiting for instructions.

"Wait for my call," you add, pulling on your coat with a sense of urgency. "Just in case."

Jihoon gives a curt nod, understanding the unspoken tension in your voice. “Understood.”

You don’t wait for another word. With each step out of the office, the uneasy feeling in your chest grows heavier. Something isn’t right—Chairman Park was hiding something, and you weren’t going to sit around and find out what it was the hard way.

As you step outside, the cold air biting against your skin, one thought lingers in your mind.

Where are you, Jiwon?

Jiwon sits hunched over at the bar, her fingers trembling around the glass as she takes another sip. The alcohol burns down her throat, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in her chest. The same dim lighting, the same hushed murmurs of conversation around her—it’s almost comforting. Almost.

Her reflection stares back at her from the glossy surface of the counter, a ghost of the person she used to be. Her cheeks are swollen, a faint imprint of her father’s anger still visible against her skin. Her hair is disheveled, her clothes wrinkled and clinging to her like a bad memory. She swirls the amber liquid in her glass, biting down the sob rising in her throat.

"Rough night?" The bartender’s voice is gentle, but wary. She doesn’t look up, just nods and takes another sip.

"You sure you’re okay, miss?" he presses, his concern deepening. "You've been here a while."

Before she can answer, a voice cuts through the air from behind her. Deep, steady, and far too familiar.

"I’m with her."

Jiwon stiffens, the glass freezing midair. Her pulse quickens, the weight of his presence settling over her like an iron chain. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.

Of course he would find her.

“You’re here again, drinking, alone.” Your voice is soft, almost too soft—tinged with something that sounds dangerously close to concern. “I thought I told you not to do that.”

Jiwon doesn't turn around right away. She takes another slow sip, staring down into her glass as if it holds all the answers she’s desperately looking for. When she finally speaks, her voice is light, almost joking—but devoid of any real joy.

“Ah... you’re here, Mister CEO.” A dry chuckle escapes her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I should’ve known.”

She swallows hard, her fingers tightening around the glass. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen… I didn’t think someone would take a picture of us.”

Her eyes, glassy and unfocused, blink rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this scandal.”

She’s blaming herself.

A slow, almost amused smile tugs at the corner of your lips. How easily she takes the fall—so eager to carry the weight of it all on those delicate shoulders. It’s almost endearing, really, how she thinks this is her doing.

She has no idea.

No idea that you’re the one who set this all in motion, that every step she’s taken has been within the palm of your hand. And yet, she looks at you with those trusting, guilt-ridden eyes, as if you’re her only lifeline.

You lean in slightly, watching her crumble, savoring the way she still believes you’re the victim here.

It’s almost too easy.

You notice the swollen redness marring her cheek, a stark contrast against her pale skin. It doesn’t take much to piece it together—who did it, why it happened. A slow, simmering anger coils in your chest, familiar and possessive. It always makes you mad when someone lays a hand on what’s yours. And this time is no different.

Your jaw tightens, but your voice remains smooth, unwavering. “Stop drinking,” you say, reaching for the half-empty glass in front of her and sliding it away. “Tidy yourself up. We have somewhere to go.”

She blinks up at you, confusion flickering through the haze in her eyes. You can tell she wants to protest, but something in your tone leaves no room for argument.

You watch as she swallows hard, her fingers trembling slightly before they reach for a napkin, dabbing at the corner of her mouth as if that alone could erase the evidence of what happened.

Good. She’s learning.

Once again, Jiwon found herself following him without hesitation, as if it were second nature. Despite everything that had happened, despite the turmoil in her heart, she couldn't fight the invisible pull he had on her. It was undeniable—an unspoken force that drew her in, compelling her to trust him when she knew she shouldn’t.

He led her to his car and slid in first without a word, his presence commanding in its quiet intensity. With a simple gesture, he motioned for her to join him. And she did. She settled into the passenger seat, her pulse thrumming in her ears, a heavy silence stretching between them.

As he reached for his phone, his voice cut through the stillness, sharp and composed. “Jihoon, get me a dress for a lady. I’ll wait by the lot behind the office.” His tone was cool, effortless—like he was always in control.

A brief pause followed, then his eyes flickered to her, lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch. “As for sizes…” he trailed off, clearly expecting her to respond.

Caught off guard, Jiwon’s cheeks flushed. She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. “Um… I’m a small. My measurements are…” She hesitated before murmuring the numbers, feeling an odd sense of vulnerability under his unwavering gaze.

He listened in silence, his expression giving nothing away. With a curt nod, he relayed the details to Jihoon and ended the call.

The hum of the engine filled the air, the steady rhythm amplifying the tension between them. Jiwon sat stiffly, hands clasped tightly in her lap, her thoughts racing. She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and unrelenting, but she kept her eyes fixed outside the window, watching the blur of city lights pass by.

A quiet sigh escaped him, breaking the stillness. She risked a glance in his direction, anxiety coiling in her chest. Was he disappointed? Angry? The uncertainty gnawed at her, making the silence feel suffocating.

The drive stretched on, each passing moment only deepening the questions swirling in her mind. Her fingers toyed nervously with her coat, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on her.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot, Jiwon held her breath. He parked but didn’t move, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed ahead. The silence thickened, settling heavily between them.

Stealing another glance at him, she found him staring into the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable—watching, waiting.

“Why are we here?” she asked, her voice fragile, barely a whisper. Her eyes stayed on the dashboard, afraid of what she might see in his face. “Why did you bring me here?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, with a quiet exhale, he finally turned to her. His gaze was steady, piercing. “You looked like you needed somewhere to go,” he said simply.

Jiwon swallowed, her fingers trembling as she gripped her coat tighter. “I… I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she murmured. “I just… didn’t know where else to go.”

His eyes lingered on her, the weight of his silence making her stomach twist. Then, after a moment, he reached out—his fingers grazing the back of her hand, a touch so light it sent a shiver through her. “You’re not trouble,” he said, his voice softer now, laced with something unfamiliar. “But you shouldn’t be out there alone. Not like this.”

Her throat tightened. “I didn’t have anywhere else,” she admitted, voice breaking. “My father… he…”

She couldn’t finish. The memory of his harsh words, the sting of his slap, still clung to her like a shadow. But she didn’t have to say it—he already knew.

His jaw clenched, a dark flicker in his gaze. “Your father’s a fool,” he said flatly, leaving no room for argument. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Jiwon blinked, caught off guard by the quiet anger simmering beneath his words. She had expected indifference, maybe even judgment—but not this. Not the fierce protectiveness lurking behind his calm demeanor.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she whispered. “I never thought… I never thought someone would take a picture of us. I didn’t think it would turn into this.”

He studied her intently, as if searching for something beneath the surface. Then, with a slow exhale, he leaned back, his hand still lightly resting against hers. “It’s not your fault,” he said, voice steady but resolute. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. “But I did,” she murmured. “I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have—”

He cut her off with a touch—gentle but firm as his fingers brushed her cheek. The warmth of it burned through the cold she felt inside. “You don’t have to be careful with me,” he said, his tone unwavering. “Not anymore.”

Jiwon’s breath caught. The way he looked at her—dark, possessive, and yet… protective—made her feel things she couldn’t quite name. Things she wasn’t sure she should feel.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, voice trembling. “Why do you care?”

His eyes never wavered from hers, his expression serious. “Because you’re mine,” he said, the words carrying a quiet intensity that left no room for doubt. “And I don’t let anyone take what’s mine.”

A shiver ran down her spine. There was something about the way he said it—calm, certain, as if it was an undeniable truth. She wasn’t sure whether to feel terrified or safe.

Before she could find the words to respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the lot. Jihoon emerged from the shadows, a garment bag draped over his arm and a pair of heels in hand.

He offered a polite, reassuring smile as he handed the items through the open window. “Here you go,” he said, his tone light but professional. “I think you’ll like it.”

Jiwon hesitated before taking the bag, her hands trembling slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze briefly flickering toward the man beside her before stepping back. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, the respect in his voice unmistakable.

As he walked away, Jiwon turned back to him, her heart still racing. “What… what is this for?” she asked, her voice tinged with unease.

His eyes met hers, unwavering. “Dinner,” he said simply. “With your father.”

Jiwon’s breath stilled, and she clutched the garment bag tightly, the soft fabric crinkling under her trembling fingers. “Dinner?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “With my father?”

He gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable yet strangely reassuring. “Yes,” he said, his tone even. “To discuss our upcoming marriage.”

Jiwon froze, her lips parting in shock. “M-Marriage?” she stammered, her wide eyes searching his face for some hint of a joke. But there was none. His expression remained calm, composed—completely serious.

“Yes,” he repeated smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “It’s the next logical step, don’t you think?”

Jiwon shook her head slowly, disbelief washing over her. “I… I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why would you—why would we…?”

He leaned back slightly, watching her with that same steady gaze that always made her feel like he was ten steps ahead of her. “Because it’s what’s best for you,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Your father will listen to reason if he knows you’re in good hands.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could barely form the words. “But we’re not… we’re not really…”

His lips curled into a faint smile, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “Not yet,” he said, tilting his head as if considering something. “But we could be. It’s a solution to your problems, Jiwon. You’ll have security, protection—everything you need.”

Jiwon’s fingers clenched the garment bag tighter, her mind racing. Everything about this felt overwhelming, too sudden, too unreal. She barely even knew what to say. “But marriage isn’t something you can just—just decide like this.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, laced with quiet persuasion. “I’m not forcing you,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “But think about it. No more running, no more uncertainty. Your father will have no reason to push you away anymore.”

Jiwon swallowed hard, her thoughts swirling in chaos. She had spent so long feeling lost, unwanted—always fighting to prove herself. And here he was, offering a way out, a way to fix everything, even if it felt… too easy. Too perfect.

“I…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away, staring down at the fabric in her lap. “It just feels… so sudden.”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “Life rarely waits for us to catch up, Jiwon.” He reached out, his fingers grazing the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine. “Trust me. This is the right move.”

Her heart fluttered at his touch, her mind screaming at her to think, to question—but all she could feel was the steady pull he had over her, the way his words made everything seem so inevitable.

“I need to think,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

He nodded, as if he had already expected that. “Of course. Take your time,” he said smoothly. “But tonight, just come to dinner. Let your father see that you're not alone.”

Jiwon exhaled shakily, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She didn't trust herself to argue anymore. “Okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl.” His smile was small but satisfied, and Jiwon couldn’t help but feel like she had just taken a step onto a path she didn’t fully understand.

“Where… where should I change?” she asked hesitantly, her voice soft and uncertain.

He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror as if he were barely paying attention. “Here,” he said, his tone indifferent, almost bored. “You’re not walking through the building like that, and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Jiwon exhaled shakily, her fingers tightening around the garment bag as she sat in the passenger seat. The air in the car felt heavy, charged with a tension she couldn’t quite place. He had told her to change right there, in the front seat, and though his tone had been indifferent at first, something about the way he’d said it made her pulse quicken.

“Here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks already burning at the thought.

He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the steering wheel, his expression unreadable. “Unless you’d rather walk through the building like that,” he said, his tone calm, almost bored. “Your choice.”

Jiwon hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced down at her wrinkled clothes, the faint scent of alcohol still clinging to her. He was right—she couldn't be seen like this and she couldn’t exactly walk into the dinner looking like this. But the idea of changing in the car, with him just inches away, made her stomach twist with nervousness.

“Okay,” she whispered finally, her voice trembling. She unzipped the garment bag, her fingers fumbling as she pulled out the dress. It was a soft pink, simple but elegant, with delicate straps and a fitted silhouette. She glanced at him again, but he wasn’t looking at her his eyes were fixed on the windshield, his expression detached.

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she began to undress. She slipped off her coat first, then her shoes, her movements careful but hurried. She could feel the weight of his presence beside her, calm and steady, but there was something about the way he was sitting his jaw tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel that made her heart race.

When she began to unbutton her blouse, she felt it the shift in the air. It was subtle at first, almost imperceptible, but then she heard it: the faintest intake of breath, the softest rustle of fabric as he adjusted his position.

Her heart skipped a beat, her hands freezing mid-motion. She glanced at him, her cheeks burning as she realized his gaze was no longer fixed on the windshield.

His eyes were on her now, dark and intense, and there was something in his expression something heated, almost predatory that made her stomach twist.

“I… I thought you weren’t going to look,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he finally spoke. “I wasn’t,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you make it difficult not to.”

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at him. There was something in his eyes something possessive, almost hungry that made her stomach twist with a mix of fear and something else she couldn’t quite name. She should protest, should demand he look away, but the way he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered made it impossible to think clearly.

Her fingers trembled as she finished unbuttoning her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the seat beside her. She could feel his gaze on her, hot and unrelenting, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She reached for the dress, her hands shaking as she pulled it over her head, the soft fabric sliding over her skin. She adjusted the straps, smoothing out the material as it hugged her figure, her cheeks burning under his intense scrutiny.

When she was done, she glanced at him, her breath catching in her throat as she realized he was still watching her, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place. And then she noticed it—the unmistakable tent in his pants, the evidence of his desire impossible to ignore.

Her heart raced, her mind spinning as she stared at him. The words had slipped out before she could cage them—reckless, impulsive, charged with a heat she hadn’t meant to unleash. “I… I could help you with that.”

The moment the words left her lips, her entire body froze. His gaze snapped to hers, sharp and molten, like embers flaring to life. She backtracked immediately, panic fraying her voice.

“I—I just meant… it looks uncomfortable. You’re clearly… struggling. And I—I might’ve caused that, right? Because of the way I… undressed. We’ve already done it before, so it’s not… and if we do get married, we’ll have to… anyway, so—”

He leaned back in his seat, his eyes darkening as they raked over her—the flushed cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her pink dress. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips.

“Caused this?” he repeated, his voice rougher now, thumb brushing the edge of the steering wheel. “You think you did this?” His gaze dropped pointedly to the strained fabric of his slacks, then back to her face. “Are you that confident in what you do to me, Jiwon?”

She swallowed, her pulse thrumming wildly. “N-no! I just—I thought—”

“And if we marry,” he cut in, leaning closer, his breath grazing her ear, “we’ll ‘have to do this anyway’?” His hand settled on her thigh, warm and deliberate. “Define this. What exactly are you volunteering for?”

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her skin burning beneath his touch. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“You’re talking in circles,” he murmured, fingers tightening slightly on her leg. “But I’ll admit… your eagerness is… interesting.”

The low, graveled edge to his voice sent a shiver through her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted, his tone shifting to a warning—one layered with barely restrained hunger.

“Careful,” he said, his thumb tracing idle circles on her thigh. “You keep offering things you don’t understand. You might regret it.”

But Jiwon, emboldened by the flicker of heat in his eyes, doubled down. “I’m not wrong,” she insisted, lifting her chin. “You said it yourself—I’m yours. So… so this is part of that, isn’t it?”

For a heartbeat, he stared at her, his composure cracking just enough to reveal the hunger beneath. A rough laugh escaped him, his grip on her thigh tightening as he pulled her closer.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said, his voice a dark caress. “But since you’re so determined…” He released her, gesturing vaguely toward his lap, his gaze never leaving hers. “Show me what you’re offering.”

Jiwon’s courage wavered. Her earlier bravado dissolved into shaky uncertainty as she stared at the evidence of his arousal, her mouth suddenly dry. “I… I don’t… How do I…?”

He leaned back, his smile sharp and thrillingly dangerous. “You started this,” he said, his voice a velvet command. “Finish it.”

Jiwon’s fingers trembled as they hovered over the waistband of his slacks, her breath shallow and uneven. His gaze never wavered, a silent dare burning in his eyes as she fumbled with the zipper, the sound obscenely loud in the charged silence. When she finally tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to free his length, her throat went dry. He was thick, already fully hard, and the sight sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.

She hesitated, her palm hovering inches away, until his voice cut through the tension—low, edged with impatience. “Don’t stop now.”

Her first touch was tentative, her fingers wrapping around him with unsure pressure. A sharp inhale escaped him, his jaw clenching, and she froze. But when his hand slid into her hair, not pushing, just anchoring, she took it as permission. Slowly, she began to stroke him, her movements awkward at first, her thumb brushing clumsily over the head.

His reaction was immediate—a low groan, his hips jerking faintly upward into her grip. Emboldened, she tightened her fingers, finding a rhythm that made his breath hitch. She chanced a glance at his face and nearly faltered at what she saw: his head tilted back against the seat, eyes half-lidded but blazing, lips parted as ragged breaths slipped free.

He’s letting go. The realization sent a thrill through her, her own arousal spiking as she watched him unravel. Her strokes grew bolder, her free hand braced against his thigh for balance, her thumb swiping over the slickness beading at his tip.

“Jiwon.” Her name was a growl, a warning and a plea.

She didn’t stop. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath ghosting over his skin as her lips brushed the hollow of his throat. His hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to force her to meet his gaze.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered, his voice fraying at the edges.

She obeyed, her strokes slowing as she watched him—the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when she twisted her wrist, the muscle fluttering in his jaw as he fought to keep still. A dark, unfamiliar pride bloomed in her chest. She did this. She reduced him to this—a man of calculated control, now gripping the steering wheel like it might snap under his restraint.

Her own need coiled tighter, her thighs pressing together as she worked him faster, spurred on by the raw hunger in his eyes. She could feel him thickening in her hand, his hips rolling upward to meet her strokes, his breath coming in sharp, fractured bursts.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his free hand sliding down to grip her wrist, not to stop her, but to guide her, his thumb pressing over hers to adjust her rhythm. “Just like that.”

The praise ignited something reckless in her. She leaned in again, her lips grazing his ear. “Do you… like this?” she whispered, the question trembling with a boldness she didn’t recognize.

His laugh was a dark, shattered sound. “You’ll know when I do.”

“Move”

Your voice cuts through the charged air, rough and strained, and Jiwon freezes. Her wide, innocent eyes blink up at you, her lips parted in that soft, questioning way that makes something dark coil tighter in your gut. You watch the confusion flicker across her face—unsure, hesitant—but she obeys.

Slowly, cautiously, she shifts, her touch lingering a moment too long before she pulls her hand away. The absence of her warmth makes your jaw clench, your control hanging by a thread. She’s always so careful, so sweet, and it drives you fucking insane.

You guide her, hands firm on her waist, positioning her until she’s straddling you. Her knees press into the seat on either side of your thighs, her trembling fingers finding tentative purchase on your shoulders. Her breathing is unsteady, shallow, her cheeks flushed pink under the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through the windshield.

“Like this?” she whispers, voice uncertain, a quiet vulnerability lacing her tone.

Your hands tighten on her hips, grounding yourself in the softness of her curves, in the way she feels so small beneath your touch. “Yeah,” you rasp, letting your thumbs stroke slow, lazy circles into her skin. “Just like that.”

You can feel the tension in her muscles, the way she holds herself so carefully, afraid of doing something wrong. But you don’t want careful. You don’t want hesitant.

You want her.

With a slow, deliberate pull, you drag her down, pressing her against the hard, aching length of you. Her breath hitches sharply, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she feels just how much you want this—how much you need her.

“You feel that?” you murmur, voice low, dangerous against the shell of her ear. “This is what you do to me, Jiwon.”

She swallows hard, her body trembling slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shifts, pressing down tentatively, testing the friction, the heat, and fuck, you feel it in your bones.

“Good girl,” you breathe, the words slipping past your lips before you can stop them, and the way she reacts—the way she melts against you—makes your blood run hotter.

Her fingers clutch at your shirt, unsure, unsteady, and you can’t help the way your hands slide up her sides, over her ribs, until you’re cupping her face, forcing her to look at you. “You wanted to help me, don’t you?”

She nods without hesitation, her lips parting in a breathless, “Yes.”

That one word sends something primal surging through you, and your grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who’s in control.

“Then move for me,” you say, the command firm, unrelenting.

Jiwon hesitates for the barest second before she obeys, shifting in your lap, rocking against you with shy, uncertain motions that drive you fucking wild. She’s so soft, so eager, and the way she bites down on her lip, trying to hold back those sweet little noises, makes your restraint slip another inch.

“That’s it,” you murmur, one hand slipping down to guide her, helping her find the right rhythm. “Just like that, baby.”

Her breathing stutters, and she clings to you tighter, her forehead resting against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “I— I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits in a whisper, and the innocence in her voice nearly undoes you.

You smirk, your hands roaming lower, gripping her ass, pulling her closer, grinding her against you until she gasps. “You’re learning,” you murmur, lips brushing against her temple. “And you’re doing so fucking good.”

She shivers, pressing closer, and you can feel the heat pooling between her thighs, the dampness seeping through the thin fabric of her underwear. It takes everything in you not to rip it off, not to flip her over and take everything she’s offering. But you hold back. Barely.

Instead, you let her explore, let her take what she needs. You can feel her pulse racing, feel the anticipation thrumming between you both like a live wire.

“Keep going,” you urge, your hands steady on her hips, guiding, controlling. “I want to feel you.”

And she does. Slowly at first, then with more confidence, grinding against you in slow, teasing rolls that make your grip tighten, your breath grow ragged. She’s needy, desperate in a way she doesn’t quite understand yet, but you do. And you’ll teach her.

You lean in, dragging your lips down the side of her throat, feeling the way she shivers beneath you. “You like this, don’t you?” you whisper, your tongue flicking against the sensitive spot just below her ear. “You like how I feel against you.”

She nods frantically, pressing harder, her soft whimpers filling the small space of the car.

You chuckle darkly, the sound vibrating against her skin. “That’s my girl.”

Her fingers tighten in your hair, and she’s moving faster now, desperate, lost in it, in you. Your grip on her hips turns bruising, guiding her harder, deeper, until the friction becomes unbearable.

“Jiwon,” you groan, your forehead resting against hers, sweat beading at your temples. “You’re gonna drive me fucking crazy.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her lips grazing yours, hesitant, teasing. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You grin against her mouth, your hands slipping beneath her dress, fingers teasing along the edge of her panties. “Yeah,” you murmur. “It is.”

Then, without warning, you flip her onto her back against the seat, pinning her beneath you, your weight pressing down until there’s nowhere for her to go—nowhere for her to hide.

Her eyes widen, lips parting in a soft gasp, but there’s no fear. Only trust.

And that’s all the permission you need.

You press her down into the seat, your weight settling over her like a promise. Jiwon's breath comes in soft, shaky pants, her eyes wide, searching yours, but you see it—the need, the anticipation trembling just beneath the surface of her innocence. You slide your hands under her dress, bunching the fabric up to her waist, revealing the soft curves of her thighs, the damp heat pressing against you through the thin scrap of lace she calls underwear.

"You're already soaked," you murmur, dragging a finger along the slickness pooling between her thighs, feeling her shudder. "How long have you been waiting for this, Jiwon?"

She turns her face to the side, cheeks flushed, biting her lip in that way that drives you insane. "I... I don't know," she whispers, but the way she shifts beneath you, pressing up into your touch, tells a different story.

"Liar," you smirk, pushing her panties aside, letting the heat of her bare skin sear into your palm. You slide a finger inside her without warning, feeling her clench around you, tight, warm, perfect. Her sharp intake of breath is loud—too loud.

Your hand clamps over her mouth instantly, fingers digging into her jaw. "Quiet," you warn, your voice low, dark. "Do you want someone to hear us?"

She shakes her head frantically, her wide eyes meeting yours, but you don't miss the way her thighs tighten around your hand, the way her walls flutter around your fingers like she’s excited by the risk.

You chuckle softly, a dark, knowing sound, and you lean in, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "You like it, don't you?" you whisper, curling your fingers inside her, teasing that spot that makes her squirm. "The thought of someone catching you like this... spread open, taking my fingers, my cock."

She whimpers against your palm, her hips rocking helplessly against your hand. You remove your hand from her mouth, trailing it down her body, savoring the way she trembles beneath you.

"I— I don't..." she tries to deny it, but the words come out shaky, uncertain. You drag your cock along her slit, coating yourself in her slickness, and her breath catches. "Please..."

"Please what, Jiwon?" you murmur, pressing against her entrance, teasing, not giving her what she wants just yet.

She swallows hard, her hands clutching at your shoulders. "Please... don't tease me," she whispers, voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and something she doesn't quite understand yet.

You smirk, pushing inside her in one slow, relentless thrust, watching her eyes widen, her lips parting on a silent cry. She's so tight, so wet, and you groan, feeling her squeeze around you like she's trying to keep you inside forever.

"God, you're gripping me so tight," you growl, your hands sliding down to her hips, holding her still. "You're lucky it's me and not someone else, Jiwon. Someone who wouldn't be so careful with you."

Her nails dig into your back, her walls fluttering around you in response, and you feel it—that dark thrill, the way her body reacts before her mind can catch up.

Then—headlights.

A sudden beam sweeps through the windshield, cutting across Jiwon's flushed skin, illuminating the scene in stark, undeniable clarity. She freezes beneath you, her body going stiff, and for a moment, neither of you move, the tension thick, suffocating.

But then—then.

You feel it.

Her walls clamp down on you, a strangled moan slipping from her lips before she can stop it. The realization hits you hard, a wicked grin curling at your lips as you lean down, your breath hot against her ear.

"You like this," you whisper, rolling your hips slowly, deliberately, dragging a ragged gasp from her throat. "The idea of being seen... being watched."

"I—" She shakes her head, but her nails scrape against your skin, and her hips move on their own, rocking against you.

"Liar," you murmur again, biting down gently on her neck, feeling the way she squirms beneath you. "Look at you, clenching around me so tight. Are you dripping because you're scared, or because you want them to see what a good little wife you are?"

She whimpers, her face turning away in shame, but you catch her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze. "Tell me, Jiwon," you demand, thrusting deep, slow, pulling another gasp from her. "Would you let them watch? Let them see how I ruin you?"

She shakes her head frantically, but the way her body tightens, the way her thighs tremble against yours, tells you the truth.

"You would," you chuckle darkly, dragging your cock out slowly before slamming back in, making her arch under you. "You'd let them see how desperate you are for me."

"Stop," she pleads, but there's no real conviction in her voice, just raw, trembling need.

You lean down, your lips brushing hers. "Make me," you challenge, your thrusts growing rougher, deeper, filling her completely.

She doesn't. She can't. She's lost in it now, lost in you, her legs wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you deeper, harder.

"You feel so good," you groan, dragging a hand up her body to cup her breast, teasing the sensitive peak. "You were made for this, Jiwon. Made for me."

Her whimpers grow louder, her grip desperate, and you clamp a hand over her mouth again. "Shh," you murmur, your pace relentless. "Unless you want them to hear you."

She moans against your palm, her body trembling violently beneath you, and you feel it—she's close, right on the edge, teetering.

"Come for me," you rasp, thrusting hard, deep, hitting that spot that makes her eyes roll back. "Show me how much you love this."

Her body tenses, and with a muffled cry, she shatters around you, her walls gripping you like a vice, pulling you deeper into her heat. The tight squeeze, the raw desperation, it's too much—your own release hits you like a freight train, a guttural groan ripping from your throat as you spill inside her, holding her close, buried deep.

For a moment, neither of you move, the only sound filling the car is your ragged breathing, the creak of the leather seat beneath you, and the distant hum of the city.

Jiwon slumps against you, trembling, her body still pulsing around you in the aftershocks. Your hands stay firm on her hips, grounding her, keeping her in place.

"You'll regret this tomorrow," you whisper against her damp skin, smirking when she doesn't respond, just clings to you tighter.

For a moment, you let yourself enjoy it—the way she fits against you, the way she’s still trying to catch her breath. But then your eyes flicker to the dashboard, and a low curse slips from your lips.

“Shit.”

Jiwon stirs slightly, dazed and blissed out. “Hmm?”

You run a hand down your face, frustration simmering beneath the lingering heat of your release. “The dinner. Your parents.”

Her entire body stiffens against you, her eyes snapping open in alarm. “Oh my God.”

You grin darkly, smoothing your hands over her hips. “Yeah. We’re very late.”

The drive to the dinner is quiet, the hum of the engine a dull counterpoint to the chaos in your head. You keep your eyes on the road, grip tight on the steering wheel, but you feel her. Always her.

Jiwon sits beside you, radiating a warmth that’s annoying in its persistence. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch it—the flush on her cheeks, the way her fingers trace idle patterns on her thigh, the faint, stupid smile she’s trying to hide. It makes your jaw clench. She’s glowing, soft and satisfied, like she’s just been given something precious instead of fucked raw in a parking lot.

Pathetic.

But then her hand drifts toward yours, tentative, brushing your knuckles. You stiffen. “What?” you snap, sharper than intended.

She flinches, but doesn’t retreat. “Can I… hold your hand?”

The question is so absurd, so ordinary, you nearly laugh. But her eyes—wide, hopeful, still hazy with whatever delusion she’s spinning—stop you. You should refuse. Should remind her this isn’t a romance. But the memory of her body clenching around you, desperate and yours, lingers like a brand.

“Fine,” you mutter, relenting. “If you need to cling.”

Her fingers slip into yours, soft and trusting, and you hate how your pulse jumps. You tell yourself it’s a reward. A leash. Let her have this small comfort, if it keeps her pliant for what’s coming.

She squeezes gently, and you squeeze back—harder, a warning. Mine.

“Thank you,” she whispers, leaning her head against the window, that damned smile still playing on her lips.

You don’t answer. Instead, you focus on the road, on the cold calculus of the dinner ahead. Let her dream. Let her think this changes anything.

But when you pull up to the restaurant, her hand still in yours, you don’t let go. Not yet.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant, Jiwon exhaled shakily, her fingers still entwined with his. The steady warmth of his hand had been her anchor throughout the drive, grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected. But as the valet opened her door, reality crashed back in, sharp and unforgiving. She pulled her hand away instinctively, smoothing the fabric of her dress in a futile attempt to steady herself.

Stepping out, the towering entrance of the restaurant loomed before her, an imposing reminder of what awaited inside. The mere thought of facing her father—her stepmother—sent an uneasy twist through her stomach.

She lingered by the car, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. He noticed.

With a quiet sigh, he reached out, his palm open in silent reassurance.

“Jiwon,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady. “Come here.”

Her eyes flickered to his hand, uncertainty clouding her expression. “I—”

“You’ll be fine.” His tone softened, but there was an undeniable firmness beneath it. “I’m right here.”

After a beat, she swallowed hard and placed her hand back in his. His fingers curled around hers, firm and unwavering, and the tension coiled in her chest loosened—just a little.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, leading her forward with the quiet confidence she envied. “Just stay close to me,” he said smoothly, as if his presence alone could shield her from everything that lay ahead.

Jiwon nodded, clutching his hand tighter as they stepped through the grand entrance. Inside, the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses faded into the background, overshadowed by the looming confrontation she could feel brewing.

The hostess greeted them with a polite nod before guiding them toward the private dining room. As the door swung open, Jiwon’s heart faltered.

The room was elegant, the chandelier above casting a warm glow over the meticulously arranged table. His grandmother sat at the head, a pillar of quiet authority. At the sight of them entering together, her lips curved ever so slightly, a flicker of intrigue crossing her face.

Her father and stepmother, however, were not so welcoming.

Jiwon’s father’s expression shifted—shock flickering across his usually impassive features before his gaze hardened into something sharper, more calculating. Her stepmother, ever composed, maintained a careful smile, but Jiwon didn’t miss the way her fingers tensed against the table’s edge.

They hadn’t expected her to come. More importantly, they hadn’t expected him.

A fleeting sense of satisfaction sparked in her chest, only to be replaced by the crushing weight of their stares.

Jiwon’s grip on his hand faltered, uncertainty creeping in. Had this been a mistake?

As they stepped further inside, the atmosphere thickened with unspoken expectations. Conversations stilled, glasses set down mid-motion.

Jiwon forced a nervous smile, holding onto him like a lifeline. “Ah, um…” she started, her voice catching in her throat. “Father, Mother, I—” She glanced toward him, as if drawing strength. “This is—”

And then it happened.

The shift.

His demeanor changed in an instant. The warmth that had reassured her moments ago disappeared, replaced by a cold, unrelenting presence.

His gaze fixed on her stepmother with a sharp, unwavering intensity, and the sudden chill in the air made Jiwon’s pulse stutter. The hand that had held hers so gently now felt like a distant memory.

Without thinking, she withdrew her fingers, instinctively retreating from the invisible force radiating from him.

Her throat tightened as she stole a glance at him. Gone was the composed man who had whispered reassurances in the car; in his place stood someone far colder, far more dangerous.

Her father’s voice sliced through the silence. “You’re late.”

Jiwon stiffened at the weight of his disapproval, but beside her, he remained unmoved, his gaze locked on her stepmother with a simmering fury that made her insides twist.

He didn’t need to say a word—his presence alone sent a message clear enough.

Jiwon swallowed, suddenly feeling like an outsider in her own family’s presence.

Maybe… maybe she shouldn’t have come.

The steady hum of the office barely registers in your mind—the clatter of keyboards, the muffled conversations, the occasional shrill ring of a phone. It’s all just background noise, drowned out by the thoughts you can’t seem to shake.

Jiwon.

You stare at the contract in front of you, the words blurring into meaningless lines of text. Your pen rests idle in your hand, tapping against the desk in an erratic rhythm. It’s been fifteen minutes, and you haven’t flipped a page.

She left.

Slipped away before the sun even rose, without a word, without a trace—except for the crumpled bills she left on the nightstand.

Your jaw tightens at the memory. Did she really think it was just a one-night thing? That she could simply walk away and pay it off like some meaningless transaction? The thought settles in your chest like a dull ache, an irritation you can't quite ignore.

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling sharply.

You’re not the type to dwell on these things. And yet, here you are.

A sharp knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.

“Sir,” comes a familiar voice, laced with just the right amount of exasperation. “If you’re done brooding dramatically, the board meeting is in thirty minutes. You know, the thing that actually pays your bills?”

You glance up to find Jihoon standing in the doorway, a stack of documents in his hands, the usual tired patience in his expression.

“Brooding?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t brood.”

Jihoon snorts, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “Right. And I’m quitting tomorrow.” He drops the files onto your desk with a dull thud. “You’ve been staring at that page like it’s about to confess its undying love for you. Which, by the way, is kind of unsettling.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “I was thinking.”

“Oh, I can tell. Must be exhausting for you.” Jihoon crosses his arms, watching you closely. “Let me guess—woman trouble?”

You don’t answer, which only makes his grin widen.

“Called it. So, what’s her name?”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second before muttering, “Park Jiwon.”

Jihoon’s brow furrows for a moment, then his eyes widen slightly in recognition. “Wait... Park Jiwon? As in Park Sangho’s daughter?”

The name sits on your tongue uncomfortably. “Park Sangho?”

Jihoon nods. “Yeah, Park Sangho. CEO of Park Conglomerate. Or what’s left of it. They’ve been struggling for a while now.” He pauses, eyeing you carefully. “And his daughter... well, there’s been talk about her getting married off to Director Kang.”

Your fingers tap against the desk. Kang. You know the name well enough—ruthless in business, worse with women. The kind of man who takes what he wants without a second thought.

Jihoon smirks. “Sounds like she dodged a bullet, running into you instead.”

You don’t laugh. If anything, the thought irritates you more. Jiwon thought she could slip away quietly, disappear before anyone noticed. Too bad she met you instead.

Reaching into your drawer, you pull out the grainy black-and-white photo—the one you got from the paparazzi before they had a chance to release it. You and Jiwon, walking into the hotel together.

You should have deleted it, like you always do. But this time, you didn’t.

You slide the photo across the desk. “Spread it.”

Jihoon blinks. “You serious? This’ll stir up a mess.”

“That’s the point.” Your voice is steady, calculated.

Jihoon gives you a long look before shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You watch him pick up the photo, your mind already working three steps ahead.

Jiwon didn’t know your name when she left.

But soon enough, she’d have no choice but to remember it.

She thought she could run.

A Few Days Later

But you’re not done with her yet.

~~~

You sit at your desk, staring at the glossy tablet in front of you. The bold headline screams back at you, accompanied by the grainy photo of you and Jiwon entering the hotel that night.

“Park Jiwon: Desperate Heiress or CEO Yoon’s Latest Fling?”

The article dances around the idea with just enough venom to sting. It paints Jiwon as a woman clinging to survival, her family’s struggling business hanging by a thread, subtly implying that she’s using you to climb her way back up.

You should have seen this coming. Hell, you did see it coming. You were the one who leaked the photo, after all. And yet, something about the way they talk about her—like she’s nothing more than a desperate opportunist—makes your jaw tighten.

Your grip on the tablet hardens before you toss it onto the desk, exhaling sharply.

The intercom buzz “Sir, your grandmother is here to see you—”.

You barely have time to let that information settle before your office door swings open without warning.

"Where are you?!"

You don't need to look up to know who it is. The sharp, authoritative voice—tinged with just enough warmth to remind you she still cares—belongs to only one person.

Your grandmother.

With Jihoon following after her.

"Do you ever knock?" you mutter, running a hand through your hair as she marches in, holding up the same tabloid you were just glaring at.

"I don't need to knock when my dear grandson's face is plastered all over the media with a young woman he's clearly trying to ruin!" she huffs, dropping the magazine onto your desk with a disapproving glare. "Care to explain, dear?"

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. "It’s just a photo. The media exaggerates everything, you know that."

Your grandmother eyes you sternly, lips pursed in that way that makes you feel like you're fifteen again, being scolded for skipping out on family dinners. "Don't play dumb with me, Dear. I taught you better than that."

Before you can offer another half-hearted excuse, her expression softens—just slightly—as she picks up the tablet and runs her fingers over Jiwon’s picture.

"This poor girl," she murmurs, almost to herself. "I remember Park Jiwon. Such a sweet child when I last saw her. Always so polite and thoughtful.” Her eyes flick back to you, sharp once more. “Unlike someone I know.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "I'm sure she’s doing just fine, Grandmother."

"Hmph," she scoffs. "Fine? With her father’s company sinking and now the press tarnishing her name?" She fixes you with a look that could cut through steel. "Tell me, dear. Did you even consider how this might affect her?"

You don't answer right away, which only makes her sigh in disappointment. "Of course you didn't. You're too busy playing your little power games to see what's right in front of you."

Your jaw tightens. "She left me, you know."

Your grandmother raises a delicate brow. "Oh, poor you. A woman left you for once in your life."

You grit your teeth. "That's not the point."

"No," she agrees, settling into the chair across from you. "The point is, you caused a scandal, and now the least you can do is take responsibility."

You arch a brow. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

She gives you a pointed look, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Marry her."

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, dear." Her tone is sweet, but there's steel beneath it. "You've already dragged her name through the mud. The decent thing to do would be to make an honest woman out of her."

You let out a humorless chuckle. "And let me guess, this has nothing to do with your constant nagging about settling down?"

"Of course it does," she says matter-of-factly, offering a saccharine smile. "But more importantly, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. She needs protection from vultures like Director Kang, and you..." She tilts her head. "You need someone who won’t let you get away with this nonsense anymore."

You exhale, pacing toward the window. Marry Jiwon? The idea should be absurd. You don’t do marriage, relationships, or anything that even remotely resembles commitment. And yet…

Your grandmother watches you closely, her voice softer now. "She's a good girl, Seojoon. And I have no doubt she can handle you."

You glance back at the photo on your desk. Jiwon, with her hesitant smile and those guarded eyes.

Maybe she could.

But claiming her—making her yours—wasn’t about saving her. It never was.

It was about something far more selfish.

You turn back to your grandmother, expression unreadable. "And if I refuse?"

She smiles knowingly. "Then I’ll do what I always do—make your life a living hell until you see reason."

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "Of course you will."

"Good." She stands, smoothing out her coat with deliberate care. "Call her now. Arrange a meeting."

"Now?" You blink, surprised by her urgency.

Your grandmother gives you a pointed look. "Yes, now. Do you think I don't know you, dear?"

You lean back in your chair, stalling. "I don't even have her number."

She merely lifts a brow, unimpressed. "Then call her family."

Before you can protest, her gaze shifts to Jihoon, who straightens under the silent command. Without hesitation, he pulls out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen. Within moments, he steps forward, presenting the device to you with an expectant expression.

The call screen stares back at you, one press away from dialing.

Park Conglomerate.

You glance between the phone and your grandmother, who offers you a sweet yet undeniably stern smile. "Go on, dear. I'm waiting."

You exhale slowly, your fingers hovering over the screen.

Jiwon thought she could leave quietly, slip away without a trace.

Jiwon let out a tired sigh as she stepped into her bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on her shoulders. The soft click of the door behind her sealed her in the quiet sanctuary of her space, a brief moment of solitude she desperately needed.

She was wrong.

~~~

She walked over to her desk, her movements slow and deliberate, fingers reaching up to remove the delicate earrings that adorned her ears. One by one, she placed them on the glass tray beside her scattered notes and half-empty coffee cups. The cool air brushed against her skin, but her mind was elsewhere.

No matter how much she tried to push it aside, the memories of that night refused to leave her mind. They clung to her like a second skin, vivid and unrelenting, replaying in her thoughts when she least expected it. She could still feel his touch—firm, demanding, yet oddly tender. The way his hands had roamed her body, possessive yet reverent, as if he were memorizing every curve, every inch of her. The heat of his lips tracing along her neck, the scrape of his teeth against her sensitive skin, the way his breath had hitched when she shivered under his touch. It had been overwhelming, intoxicating, and she had been powerless to resist.

Her fingertips grazed the side of her neck absently, recalling the ghost of his touch. She could still feel the faint ache where he had marked her, the memory of his mouth on her skin sending a shiver down her spine. She shouldn’t be thinking about it, shouldn’t be replaying every stolen moment, but she was. It was as if he’d left an invisible mark that wouldn’t fade, a brand that lingered long after the night had ended.

She closed her eyes, and the images came flooding back—his body pressing against hers, the weight of him pinning her to the bed, the way his hips had moved with a rhythm that left her breathless. She could still feel the way he had filled her, the stretch and burn giving way to a pleasure so intense it had left her trembling. His voice, low and rough in her ear, murmuring words she could barely comprehend through the haze of desire. “Moan for me, Jiwon… let it all out.”

Her breath hitched as she remembered the way his hands had gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his touch both commanding and gentle. The way he had looked at her, his dark eyes filled with a hunger that had both terrified and thrilled her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so utterly desired. And when he had finally brought her to the edge, her body arching into his as she fell apart.

Even now, the memory of it made her pulse quicken, her skin flushing with heat. She could still feel the way his lips had claimed hers, the way his tongue had tangled with hers in a kiss that had left her dizzy. The way his hands had explored her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The way he had whispered her name, his voice rough with need, as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

She shouldn’t be thinking about it. She shouldn’t be craving the feel of his hands on her skin, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress, the way he had made her feel so alive, so wanted. But she was. And no matter how hard she tried to push the memories away, they always came back, more vivid, more consuming than before. It was as if he had awakened something in her, something she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she tried.

Her fingers trailed lower, brushing over her collarbone, and she could almost feel his lips following the same path, his breath hot against her skin. She bit her lip, her body betraying her as a flush of warmth spread through her. She shouldn’t be thinking about it. But she was. And she couldn’t stop.

It was just one night, she reminded herself, shaking her head as if to dispel the thoughts. A mistake.

She sighed, pulling her hair loose from its clip, letting the strands fall around her shoulders. Maybe some sleep would finally help clear her mind.

But just as she reached for her journal, a sudden, thunderous voice shattered the calm.

"JIWON!"

Her father’s voice, laced with pure, unrestrained rage, echoed through the house. The sound of her name being screamed like that sent a shiver down her spine. She barely had time to react before the heavy, relentless banging on her door followed.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Open this door right now!" her father bellowed, his fists hammering against the wood with enough force to rattle it in its frame.

Jiwon's breath caught in her throat, heart pounding wildly in her chest. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what had set him off this time, but deep down, she had a sinking feeling she already knew.

Swallowing hard, she took a step toward the door, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the handle.

"I said open it!" he roared again, the anger in his voice cutting through her hesitation like a knife.

Jiwon closed her eyes for a brief second, bracing herself for whatever storm was about to come crashing through that door. She inhaled shakily, steadying herself before unlocking it.

Before she could even turn the knob, the door swung open violently, slamming into her and making her stumble back.

“You fucking bitch!” Her father’s voice tore through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

“Fa—Father…” Jiwon’s voice wavered as she tried to meet his eyes, but before she could—

Slap.

The force of his hand sent her head snapping to the side, a sharp sting blooming across her cheek.

"I raised you, and this is how you repay me?" His voice was a furious snarl. "I should have listened—I should have left you with your mother. Her filthy blood runs through you. Just like her, you're nothing but a disgrace."

Jiwon trembled, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes. Her mind struggled to catch up with what was happening, the shock paralyzing her.

“F-Father, wh—what? Wh-why?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with fear.

"Don't you dare pretend you don't know!" he roared, stepping closer, his grip seizing her wrist with crushing force. "I told you to be obedient, to marry Director Kang, and now you're out there sleeping with another man? Do you have any idea how this makes me look? How it tarnishes my company’s reputation?"

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her tears spilling over. “Father… I—I was mistaken, I—”

“Mistaken?!” He yanked her forward, dragging her across the entryway. “You're not my daughter anymore! You’ve humiliated me for the last time.”

“Please, Father, wait—” she sobbed, struggling against his iron grip, but he ignored her, dragging her toward the front door. The harsh fluorescent lighting above made everything feel even colder, emptier.

From the grand staircase, her stepmother watched with an unsettling calm, her lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. She didn’t move, didn’t speak—just observed, as if this was nothing more than an inevitability she had been waiting for.

"You want to act like a whore? Then go and live like one!" he spat, throwing the door open and shoving her out onto the cold pavement outside. Jiwon staggered, barely catching herself before she fell.

Her father turned away without a second glance, already dismissing her existence. But her stepmother lingered.

Her stepmother stands before the gate, arms crossed, a thin smile tugging at her lips. For a moment, she simply observed, as if savoring the sight of Jiwon trembling.

Jiwon swallowed hard, lifting tearful eyes. “Mother, please…”

Her stepmother crouched gracefully, her touch deceptively gentle as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind Jiwon’s ear. “Oh, Jiwon,” she sighed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “You always were so naive.”

Jiwon’s lips trembled, guilt pressing down on her chest. “I… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Her stepmother smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “Of course you didn’t, dear. You never do, do you?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in mock disapproval. “But intentions don’t erase consequences.”

Jiwon looked down, shame crawling through her. “I just… I thought…”

Her stepmother's fingers tightened slightly on her chin, lifting her face. “You thought you could play in a world that doesn't belong to you,” she said softly, though there was something sharp beneath her words, something cruel. “You thought you could be reckless and not pay the price. But you’re just like your mother, aren’t you? Always chasing things beyond your reach.”

Jiwon blinked rapidly, her stepmother's words slicing through her defenses with precision. "I—I didn't mean to—"

Her stepmother laughed lightly, standing back up. “I know, dear. But mistakes like yours? They leave stains that don’t wash off easily.” She glanced at the looming gates. “You’ve embarrassed your father for the last time. It’s better this way.”

Jiwon nodded slowly, tears falling freely now. Deep down, she believed it too. This was her fault. No one else’s.

Her stepmother turned back toward the house, pausing at the threshold. She tilted her head, watching Jiwon with a smile that didn’t match the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Take care of yourself, Jiwon,” she said sweetly, before glancing at the guards. “Close it.”

As the gates groaned shut, sealing her out, her stepmother’s voice drifted through the cold air one last time. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll convince your father to at least continue treating your mother. Someone has to think of her well-being, after all.”

She stood frozen, chest heaving, her hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of her dress. The cold night air bit at her skin, her hair falling in disheveled strands around her face. Her cheek still burned from the slap, and the ache in her chest threatened to crush her.

Then, her phone vibrated in her pocket, the sudden buzz cutting through the suffocating silence. With shaking hands, she fumbled it out, her blurred vision struggling to focus on the screen.

A notification.

Breaking News: Heir of Park Conglomerate spotted with chaebol bachelor—scandal unfolds.

Jiwon's breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded violently as she stared at the photo accompanying the headline—her and him, stepping into the hotel together, the grainy image unmistakably damning.

Her fingers tightened around the phone, the cold metal trembling against her skin.

The realization hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with relentless force.

She should have known better.

She should have never let herself be so reckless, so desperate for something—anything—that she thought for even a moment he could offer her.

She was the one who let him too close.

She was the one who fell for the way he touched her, the way he looked at her like she was something more than just a pawn in her father’s plans.

You watch as Jihoon dials the number, his expression calm and professional. The phone rings a few times before someone on the other end picks up.

She was the one who let a single night ruin everything.

~~~

"Hello, this is Park Group. How may I assist you?" a polite yet detached voice answers.

Jihoon leans slightly forward. "Good evening, this is Jihoon from J Group. We’d like to speak with Chairman Park regarding an important matter."

There’s a brief pause, a faint shuffle on the other end before the voice responds. "Please hold, I'll transfer you to the chairman."

Jihoon meets your eyes, giving you a subtle nod as he waits. A few seconds later, the line clicks.

"This is Chairman Park," the familiar, calculated voice filters through the speaker.

Jihoon quickly hands you the phone, his voice steady but respectful. "Sir, Chairman Park is on the line. I've introduced you as the CEO of J Group."

You take the phone, your grip firm, and bring it to your ear. "Chairman Park," you say evenly.

A brief silence, then his voice, smooth and unreadable, replies, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

“I’d like to discuss a potential marriage arrangement,” you cut straight to the point, feeling the weight of your grandmother’s gaze on you. She’s watching carefully, waiting for every word.

The line falls silent for a moment too long. Then, Chairman Park’s voice, still smooth but with an underlying note of surprise, responds. “A marriage arrangement? Isn’t this... sudden?”

You lean back in your chair, the cool surface of the desk beneath your fingertips grounding you. “Circumstances have changed. I believe it would be in both our interests to resolve this sooner rather than later.”

There’s another silence, as if the man is considering your words carefully. Then, after a pause, he speaks again. “Very well.”

You nod, though he can’t see you. “Perfect. I’ll send you the address, Lets meet there later at 8. ”

But then, you can’t help it — you have to ask. “And Jiwon?”

For a moment, the line is quiet again, and when Chairman Park responds, his tone is careful, almost rehearsed. “She’s... currently unavailable.”

You don’t let it slide. “I’d still like to speak with her.”

There’s a shift in his tone, subtle but noticeable. “She’s resting. This has been... overwhelming for her, as you can imagine.”

Your brow furrows, but you keep your voice steady. “I’d like to hear that from her myself.”

He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’re persistent, Don’t you think?”

“I have to be,” you reply, your grip on the phone tightening. Something doesn’t feel right.

Another pause, then, “I’m afraid Jiwon isn’t in a position to talk right now. But don’t worry, you’ll see her soon enough.”

Your eyes narrow, your instincts prickling with unease. Something isn’t adding up. You exchange a glance with your grandmother, who’s watching you closely. The unease swirling in your chest tightens.

“Understood,” you say, your voice calm, but there’s an edge to it now. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You hang up, the silence of the room heavy in the wake of the conversation. Your grandmother’s eyes are on you, sharp as ever.

“What is it?” she asks, sensing the shift in you.

You place the phone down, your fingers lingering on the edge as you stare at it. Something is wrong. The way Chairman Park avoided your questions, the way he kept circling around Jiwon’s whereabouts... you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than he’s letting on.

“So… did they agree?” your grandmother asks impatiently, her sharp eyes studying you like a hawk.

"Yeah, later at eight," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jihoon will send you the address."

She nods, satisfied for now, but you can feel the weight of her expectations pressing down on you.

You rise from your chair abruptly, already reaching for your coat. “I have to go somewhere first,” you say, your mind racing ahead.

Jihoon, standing quietly by the door, perks up at your sudden movement. His eyes flick to yours, waiting for instructions.

"Wait for my call," you add, pulling on your coat with a sense of urgency. "Just in case."

Jihoon gives a curt nod, understanding the unspoken tension in your voice. “Understood.”

You don’t wait for another word. With each step out of the office, the uneasy feeling in your chest grows heavier. Something isn’t right—Chairman Park was hiding something, and you weren’t going to sit around and find out what it was the hard way.

As you step outside, the cold air biting against your skin, one thought lingers in your mind.

Jiwon sits hunched over at the bar, her fingers trembling around the glass as she takes another sip. The alcohol burns down her throat, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in her chest. The same dim lighting, the same hushed murmurs of conversation around her—it’s almost comforting. Almost.

Where are you, Jiwon?

~~~

Her reflection stares back at her from the glossy surface of the counter, a ghost of the person she used to be. Her cheeks are swollen, a faint imprint of her father’s anger still visible against her skin. Her hair is disheveled, her clothes wrinkled and clinging to her like a bad memory. She swirls the amber liquid in her glass, biting down the sob rising in her throat.

"Rough night?" The bartender’s voice is gentle, but wary. She doesn’t look up, just nods and takes another sip.

"You sure you’re okay, miss?" he presses, his concern deepening. "You've been here a while."

Before she can answer, a voice cuts through the air from behind her. Deep, steady, and far too familiar.

"I’m with her."

Jiwon stiffens, the glass freezing midair. Her pulse quickens, the weight of his presence settling over her like an iron chain. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.

Of course he would find her.

“You’re here again, drinking, alone.” Your voice is soft, almost too soft—tinged with something that sounds dangerously close to concern. “I thought I told you not to do that.”

Jiwon doesn't turn around right away. She takes another slow sip, staring down into her glass as if it holds all the answers she’s desperately looking for. When she finally speaks, her voice is light, almost joking—but devoid of any real joy.

“Ah... you’re here, Mister CEO.” A dry chuckle escapes her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I should’ve known.”

She swallows hard, her fingers tightening around the glass. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen… I didn’t think someone would take a picture of us.”

Her eyes, glassy and unfocused, blink rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this scandal.”

She’s blaming herself.

A slow, almost amused smile tugs at the corner of your lips. How easily she takes the fall—so eager to carry the weight of it all on those delicate shoulders. It’s almost endearing, really, how she thinks this is her doing.

She has no idea.

No idea that you’re the one who set this all in motion, that every step she’s taken has been within the palm of your hand. And yet, she looks at you with those trusting, guilt-ridden eyes, as if you’re her only lifeline.

You lean in slightly, watching her crumble, savoring the way she still believes you’re the victim here.

It’s almost too easy.

You notice the swollen redness marring her cheek, a stark contrast against her pale skin. It doesn’t take much to piece it together—who did it, why it happened. A slow, simmering anger coils in your chest, familiar and possessive. It always makes you mad when someone lays a hand on what’s yours. And this time is no different.

Your jaw tightens, but your voice remains smooth, unwavering. “Stop drinking,” you say, reaching for the half-empty glass in front of her and sliding it away. “Tidy yourself up. We have somewhere to go.”

She blinks up at you, confusion flickering through the haze in her eyes. You can tell she wants to protest, but something in your tone leaves no room for argument.

You watch as she swallows hard, her fingers trembling slightly before they reach for a napkin, dabbing at the corner of her mouth as if that alone could erase the evidence of what happened.

Once again, Jiwon found herself following him without hesitation, as if it were second nature. Despite everything that had happened, despite the turmoil in her heart, she couldn't fight the invisible pull he had on her. It was undeniable—an unspoken force that drew her in, compelling her to trust him when she knew she shouldn’t.

Good. She’s learning.

~~~

He led her to his car and slid in first without a word, his presence commanding in its quiet intensity. With a simple gesture, he motioned for her to join him. And she did. She settled into the passenger seat, her pulse thrumming in her ears, a heavy silence stretching between them.

As he reached for his phone, his voice cut through the stillness, sharp and composed. “Jihoon, get me a dress for a lady. I’ll wait by the lot behind the office.” His tone was cool, effortless—like he was always in control.

A brief pause followed, then his eyes flickered to her, lingering just long enough to make her breath hitch. “As for sizes…” he trailed off, clearly expecting her to respond.

Caught off guard, Jiwon’s cheeks flushed. She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. “Um… I’m a small. My measurements are…” She hesitated before murmuring the numbers, feeling an odd sense of vulnerability under his unwavering gaze.

He listened in silence, his expression giving nothing away. With a curt nod, he relayed the details to Jihoon and ended the call.

The hum of the engine filled the air, the steady rhythm amplifying the tension between them. Jiwon sat stiffly, hands clasped tightly in her lap, her thoughts racing. She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and unrelenting, but she kept her eyes fixed outside the window, watching the blur of city lights pass by.

A quiet sigh escaped him, breaking the stillness. She risked a glance in his direction, anxiety coiling in her chest. Was he disappointed? Angry? The uncertainty gnawed at her, making the silence feel suffocating.

The drive stretched on, each passing moment only deepening the questions swirling in her mind. Her fingers toyed nervously with her coat, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on her.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot, Jiwon held her breath. He parked but didn’t move, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed ahead. The silence thickened, settling heavily between them.

Stealing another glance at him, she found him staring into the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable—watching, waiting.

“Why are we here?” she asked, her voice fragile, barely a whisper. Her eyes stayed on the dashboard, afraid of what she might see in his face. “Why did you bring me here?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, with a quiet exhale, he finally turned to her. His gaze was steady, piercing. “You looked like you needed somewhere to go,” he said simply.

Jiwon swallowed, her fingers trembling as she gripped her coat tighter. “I… I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she murmured. “I just… didn’t know where else to go.”

His eyes lingered on her, the weight of his silence making her stomach twist. Then, after a moment, he reached out—his fingers grazing the back of her hand, a touch so light it sent a shiver through her. “You’re not trouble,” he said, his voice softer now, laced with something unfamiliar. “But you shouldn’t be out there alone. Not like this.”

Her throat tightened. “I didn’t have anywhere else,” she admitted, voice breaking. “My father… he…”

She couldn’t finish. The memory of his harsh words, the sting of his slap, still clung to her like a shadow. But she didn’t have to say it—he already knew.

His jaw clenched, a dark flicker in his gaze. “Your father’s a fool,” he said flatly, leaving no room for argument. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Jiwon blinked, caught off guard by the quiet anger simmering beneath his words. She had expected indifference, maybe even judgment—but not this. Not the fierce protectiveness lurking behind his calm demeanor.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she whispered. “I never thought… I never thought someone would take a picture of us. I didn’t think it would turn into this.”

He studied her intently, as if searching for something beneath the surface. Then, with a slow exhale, he leaned back, his hand still lightly resting against hers. “It’s not your fault,” he said, voice steady but resolute. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. “But I did,” she murmured. “I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have—”

He cut her off with a touch—gentle but firm as his fingers brushed her cheek. The warmth of it burned through the cold she felt inside. “You don’t have to be careful with me,” he said, his tone unwavering. “Not anymore.”

Jiwon’s breath caught. The way he looked at her—dark, possessive, and yet… protective—made her feel things she couldn’t quite name. Things she wasn’t sure she should feel.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, voice trembling. “Why do you care?”

His eyes never wavered from hers, his expression serious. “Because you’re mine,” he said, the words carrying a quiet intensity that left no room for doubt. “And I don’t let anyone take what’s mine.”

A shiver ran down her spine. There was something about the way he said it—calm, certain, as if it was an undeniable truth. She wasn’t sure whether to feel terrified or safe.

Before she could find the words to respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the lot. Jihoon emerged from the shadows, a garment bag draped over his arm and a pair of heels in hand.

He offered a polite, reassuring smile as he handed the items through the open window. “Here you go,” he said, his tone light but professional. “I think you’ll like it.”

Jiwon hesitated before taking the bag, her hands trembling slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze briefly flickering toward the man beside her before stepping back. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, the respect in his voice unmistakable.

As he walked away, Jiwon turned back to him, her heart still racing. “What… what is this for?” she asked, her voice tinged with unease.

His eyes met hers, unwavering. “Dinner,” he said simply. “With your father.”

Jiwon’s breath stilled, and she clutched the garment bag tightly, the soft fabric crinkling under her trembling fingers. “Dinner?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “With my father?”

He gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable yet strangely reassuring. “Yes,” he said, his tone even. “To discuss our upcoming marriage.”

Jiwon froze, her lips parting in shock. “M-Marriage?” she stammered, her wide eyes searching his face for some hint of a joke. But there was none. His expression remained calm, composed—completely serious.

“Yes,” he repeated smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “It’s the next logical step, don’t you think?”

Jiwon shook her head slowly, disbelief washing over her. “I… I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why would you—why would we…?”

He leaned back slightly, watching her with that same steady gaze that always made her feel like he was ten steps ahead of her. “Because it’s what’s best for you,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Your father will listen to reason if he knows you’re in good hands.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could barely form the words. “But we’re not… we’re not really…”

His lips curled into a faint smile, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. “Not yet,” he said, tilting his head as if considering something. “But we could be. It’s a solution to your problems, Jiwon. You’ll have security, protection—everything you need.”

Jiwon’s fingers clenched the garment bag tighter, her mind racing. Everything about this felt overwhelming, too sudden, too unreal. She barely even knew what to say. “But marriage isn’t something you can just—just decide like this.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering, laced with quiet persuasion. “I’m not forcing you,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. “But think about it. No more running, no more uncertainty. Your father will have no reason to push you away anymore.”

Jiwon swallowed hard, her thoughts swirling in chaos. She had spent so long feeling lost, unwanted—always fighting to prove herself. And here he was, offering a way out, a way to fix everything, even if it felt… too easy. Too perfect.

“I…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away, staring down at the fabric in her lap. “It just feels… so sudden.”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “Life rarely waits for us to catch up, Jiwon.” He reached out, his fingers grazing the back of her hand, sending a shiver up her spine. “Trust me. This is the right move.”

Her heart fluttered at his touch, her mind screaming at her to think, to question—but all she could feel was the steady pull he had over her, the way his words made everything seem so inevitable.

“I need to think,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

He nodded, as if he had already expected that. “Of course. Take your time,” he said smoothly. “But tonight, just come to dinner. Let your father see that you're not alone.”

Jiwon exhaled shakily, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She didn't trust herself to argue anymore. “Okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl.” His smile was small but satisfied, and Jiwon couldn’t help but feel like she had just taken a step onto a path she didn’t fully understand.

“Where… where should I change?” she asked hesitantly, her voice soft and uncertain.

He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror as if he were barely paying attention. “Here,” he said, his tone indifferent, almost bored. “You’re not walking through the building like that, and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Jiwon exhaled shakily, her fingers tightening around the garment bag as she sat in the passenger seat. The air in the car felt heavy, charged with a tension she couldn’t quite place. He had told her to change right there, in the front seat, and though his tone had been indifferent at first, something about the way he’d said it made her pulse quicken.

“Here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks already burning at the thought.

He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the steering wheel, his expression unreadable. “Unless you’d rather walk through the building like that,” he said, his tone calm, almost bored. “Your choice.”

Jiwon hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced down at her wrinkled clothes, the faint scent of alcohol still clinging to her. He was right—she couldn't be seen like this and she couldn’t exactly walk into the dinner looking like this. But the idea of changing in the car, with him just inches away, made her stomach twist with nervousness.

“Okay,” she whispered finally, her voice trembling. She unzipped the garment bag, her fingers fumbling as she pulled out the dress. It was a soft pink, simple but elegant, with delicate straps and a fitted silhouette. She glanced at him again, but he wasn’t looking at her his eyes were fixed on the windshield, his expression detached.

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she began to undress. She slipped off her coat first, then her shoes, her movements careful but hurried. She could feel the weight of his presence beside her, calm and steady, but there was something about the way he was sitting his jaw tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel that made her heart race.

When she began to unbutton her blouse, she felt it the shift in the air. It was subtle at first, almost imperceptible, but then she heard it: the faintest intake of breath, the softest rustle of fabric as he adjusted his position.

Her heart skipped a beat, her hands freezing mid-motion. She glanced at him, her cheeks burning as she realized his gaze was no longer fixed on the windshield.

His eyes were on her now, dark and intense, and there was something in his expression something heated, almost predatory that made her stomach twist.

“I… I thought you weren’t going to look,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he finally spoke. “I wasn’t,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you make it difficult not to.”

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at him. There was something in his eyes something possessive, almost hungry that made her stomach twist with a mix of fear and something else she couldn’t quite name. She should protest, should demand he look away, but the way he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered made it impossible to think clearly.

Her fingers trembled as she finished unbuttoning her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the seat beside her. She could feel his gaze on her, hot and unrelenting, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She reached for the dress, her hands shaking as she pulled it over her head, the soft fabric sliding over her skin. She adjusted the straps, smoothing out the material as it hugged her figure, her cheeks burning under his intense scrutiny.

When she was done, she glanced at him, her breath catching in her throat as she realized he was still watching her, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place. And then she noticed it—the unmistakable tent in his pants, the evidence of his desire impossible to ignore.

Her heart raced, her mind spinning as she stared at him. The words had slipped out before she could cage them—reckless, impulsive, charged with a heat she hadn’t meant to unleash. “I… I could help you with that.”

The moment the words left her lips, her entire body froze. His gaze snapped to hers, sharp and molten, like embers flaring to life. She backtracked immediately, panic fraying her voice.

“I—I just meant… it looks uncomfortable. You’re clearly… struggling. And I—I might’ve caused that, right? Because of the way I… undressed. We’ve already done it before, so it’s not… and if we do get married, we’ll have to… anyway, so—”

He leaned back in his seat, his eyes darkening as they raked over her—the flushed cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her pink dress. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips.

“Caused this?” he repeated, his voice rougher now, thumb brushing the edge of the steering wheel. “You think you did this?” His gaze dropped pointedly to the strained fabric of his slacks, then back to her face. “Are you that confident in what you do to me, Jiwon?”

She swallowed, her pulse thrumming wildly. “N-no! I just—I thought—”

“And if we marry,” he cut in, leaning closer, his breath grazing her ear, “we’ll ‘have to do this anyway’?” His hand settled on her thigh, warm and deliberate. “Define this. What exactly are you volunteering for?”

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her skin burning beneath his touch. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“You’re talking in circles,” he murmured, fingers tightening slightly on her leg. “But I’ll admit… your eagerness is… interesting.”

The low, graveled edge to his voice sent a shiver through her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted, his tone shifting to a warning—one layered with barely restrained hunger.

“Careful,” he said, his thumb tracing idle circles on her thigh. “You keep offering things you don’t understand. You might regret it.”

But Jiwon, emboldened by the flicker of heat in his eyes, doubled down. “I’m not wrong,” she insisted, lifting her chin. “You said it yourself—I’m yours. So… so this is part of that, isn’t it?”

For a heartbeat, he stared at her, his composure cracking just enough to reveal the hunger beneath. A rough laugh escaped him, his grip on her thigh tightening as he pulled her closer.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said, his voice a dark caress. “But since you’re so determined…” He released her, gesturing vaguely toward his lap, his gaze never leaving hers. “Show me what you’re offering.”

Jiwon’s courage wavered. Her earlier bravado dissolved into shaky uncertainty as she stared at the evidence of his arousal, her mouth suddenly dry. “I… I don’t… How do I…?”

He leaned back, his smile sharp and thrillingly dangerous. “You started this,” he said, his voice a velvet command. “Finish it.”

Jiwon’s fingers trembled as they hovered over the waistband of his slacks, her breath shallow and uneven. His gaze never wavered, a silent dare burning in his eyes as she fumbled with the zipper, the sound obscenely loud in the charged silence. When she finally tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to free his length, her throat went dry. He was thick, already fully hard, and the sight sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.

She hesitated, her palm hovering inches away, until his voice cut through the tension—low, edged with impatience. “Don’t stop now.”

Her first touch was tentative, her fingers wrapping around him with unsure pressure. A sharp inhale escaped him, his jaw clenching, and she froze. But when his hand slid into her hair, not pushing, just anchoring, she took it as permission. Slowly, she began to stroke him, her movements awkward at first, her thumb brushing clumsily over the head.

His reaction was immediate—a low groan, his hips jerking faintly upward into her grip. Emboldened, she tightened her fingers, finding a rhythm that made his breath hitch. She chanced a glance at his face and nearly faltered at what she saw: his head tilted back against the seat, eyes half-lidded but blazing, lips parted as ragged breaths slipped free.

He’s letting go. The realization sent a thrill through her, her own arousal spiking as she watched him unravel. Her strokes grew bolder, her free hand braced against his thigh for balance, her thumb swiping over the slickness beading at his tip.

“Jiwon.” Her name was a growl, a warning and a plea.

She didn’t stop. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath ghosting over his skin as her lips brushed the hollow of his throat. His hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to force her to meet his gaze.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered, his voice fraying at the edges.

She obeyed, her strokes slowing as she watched him—the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when she twisted her wrist, the muscle fluttering in his jaw as he fought to keep still. A dark, unfamiliar pride bloomed in her chest. She did this. She reduced him to this—a man of calculated control, now gripping the steering wheel like it might snap under his restraint.

Her own need coiled tighter, her thighs pressing together as she worked him faster, spurred on by the raw hunger in his eyes. She could feel him thickening in her hand, his hips rolling upward to meet her strokes, his breath coming in sharp, fractured bursts.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his free hand sliding down to grip her wrist, not to stop her, but to guide her, his thumb pressing over hers to adjust her rhythm. “Just like that.”

The praise ignited something reckless in her. She leaned in again, her lips grazing his ear. “Do you… like this?” she whispered, the question trembling with a boldness she didn’t recognize.

His laugh was a dark, shattered sound. “You’ll know when I do.”

Your voice cuts through the charged air, rough and strained, and Jiwon freezes. Her wide, innocent eyes blink up at you, her lips parted in that soft, questioning way that makes something dark coil tighter in your gut. You watch the confusion flicker across her face—unsure, hesitant—but she obeys.

“Move”

~~~

Slowly, cautiously, she shifts, her touch lingering a moment too long before she pulls her hand away. The absence of her warmth makes your jaw clench, your control hanging by a thread. She’s always so careful, so sweet, and it drives you fucking insane.

You guide her, hands firm on her waist, positioning her until she’s straddling you. Her knees press into the seat on either side of your thighs, her trembling fingers finding tentative purchase on your shoulders. Her breathing is unsteady, shallow, her cheeks flushed pink under the dim glow of the streetlights filtering through the windshield.

“Like this?” she whispers, voice uncertain, a quiet vulnerability lacing her tone.

Your hands tighten on her hips, grounding yourself in the softness of her curves, in the way she feels so small beneath your touch. “Yeah,” you rasp, letting your thumbs stroke slow, lazy circles into her skin. “Just like that.”

You can feel the tension in her muscles, the way she holds herself so carefully, afraid of doing something wrong. But you don’t want careful. You don’t want hesitant.

You want her.

With a slow, deliberate pull, you drag her down, pressing her against the hard, aching length of you. Her breath hitches sharply, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she feels just how much you want this—how much you need her.

“You feel that?” you murmur, voice low, dangerous against the shell of her ear. “This is what you do to me, Jiwon.”

She swallows hard, her body trembling slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shifts, pressing down tentatively, testing the friction, the heat, and fuck, you feel it in your bones.

“Good girl,” you breathe, the words slipping past your lips before you can stop them, and the way she reacts—the way she melts against you—makes your blood run hotter.

Her fingers clutch at your shirt, unsure, unsteady, and you can’t help the way your hands slide up her sides, over her ribs, until you’re cupping her face, forcing her to look at you. “You wanted to help me, don’t you?”

She nods without hesitation, her lips parting in a breathless, “Yes.”

That one word sends something primal surging through you, and your grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who’s in control.

“Then move for me,” you say, the command firm, unrelenting.

Jiwon hesitates for the barest second before she obeys, shifting in your lap, rocking against you with shy, uncertain motions that drive you fucking wild. She’s so soft, so eager, and the way she bites down on her lip, trying to hold back those sweet little noises, makes your restraint slip another inch.

“That’s it,” you murmur, one hand slipping down to guide her, helping her find the right rhythm. “Just like that, baby.”

Her breathing stutters, and she clings to you tighter, her forehead resting against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “I— I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits in a whisper, and the innocence in her voice nearly undoes you.

You smirk, your hands roaming lower, gripping her ass, pulling her closer, grinding her against you until she gasps. “You’re learning,” you murmur, lips brushing against her temple. “And you’re doing so fucking good.”

She shivers, pressing closer, and you can feel the heat pooling between her thighs, the dampness seeping through the thin fabric of her underwear. It takes everything in you not to rip it off, not to flip her over and take everything she’s offering. But you hold back. Barely.

Instead, you let her explore, let her take what she needs. You can feel her pulse racing, feel the anticipation thrumming between you both like a live wire.

“Keep going,” you urge, your hands steady on her hips, guiding, controlling. “I want to feel you.”

And she does. Slowly at first, then with more confidence, grinding against you in slow, teasing rolls that make your grip tighten, your breath grow ragged. She’s needy, desperate in a way she doesn’t quite understand yet, but you do. And you’ll teach her.

You lean in, dragging your lips down the side of her throat, feeling the way she shivers beneath you. ��You like this, don’t you?” you whisper, your tongue flicking against the sensitive spot just below her ear. “You like how I feel against you.”

She nods frantically, pressing harder, her soft whimpers filling the small space of the car.

You chuckle darkly, the sound vibrating against her skin. “That’s my girl.”

Her fingers tighten in your hair, and she’s moving faster now, desperate, lost in it, in you. Your grip on her hips turns bruising, guiding her harder, deeper, until the friction becomes unbearable.

“Jiwon,” you groan, your forehead resting against hers, sweat beading at your temples. “You’re gonna drive me fucking crazy.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her lips grazing yours, hesitant, teasing. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You grin against her mouth, your hands slipping beneath her dress, fingers teasing along the edge of her panties. “Yeah,” you murmur. “It is.”

Then, without warning, you flip her onto her back against the seat, pinning her beneath you, your weight pressing down until there’s nowhere for her to go—nowhere for her to hide.

Her eyes widen, lips parting in a soft gasp, but there’s no fear. Only trust.

And that’s all the permission you need.

You press her down into the seat, your weight settling over her like a promise. Jiwon's breath comes in soft, shaky pants, her eyes wide, searching yours, but you see it—the need, the anticipation trembling just beneath the surface of her innocence. You slide your hands under her dress, bunching the fabric up to her waist, revealing the soft curves of her thighs, the damp heat pressing against you through the thin scrap of lace she calls underwear.

"You're already soaked," you murmur, dragging a finger along the slickness pooling between her thighs, feeling her shudder. "How long have you been waiting for this, Jiwon?"

She turns her face to the side, cheeks flushed, biting her lip in that way that drives you insane. "I... I don't know," she whispers, but the way she shifts beneath you, pressing up into your touch, tells a different story.

"Liar," you smirk, pushing her panties aside, letting the heat of her bare skin sear into your palm. You slide a finger inside her without warning, feeling her clench around you, tight, warm, perfect. Her sharp intake of breath is loud—too loud.

Your hand clamps over her mouth instantly, fingers digging into her jaw. "Quiet," you warn, your voice low, dark. "Do you want someone to hear us?"

She shakes her head frantically, her wide eyes meeting yours, but you don't miss the way her thighs tighten around your hand, the way her walls flutter around your fingers like she’s excited by the risk.

You chuckle softly, a dark, knowing sound, and you lean in, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "You like it, don't you?" you whisper, curling your fingers inside her, teasing that spot that makes her squirm. "The thought of someone catching you like this... spread open, taking my fingers, my cock."

She whimpers against your palm, her hips rocking helplessly against your hand. You remove your hand from her mouth, trailing it down her body, savoring the way she trembles beneath you.

"I— I don't..." she tries to deny it, but the words come out shaky, uncertain. You drag your cock along her slit, coating yourself in her slickness, and her breath catches. "Please..."

"Please what, Jiwon?" you murmur, pressing against her entrance, teasing, not giving her what she wants just yet.

She swallows hard, her hands clutching at your shoulders. "Please... don't tease me," she whispers, voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and something she doesn't quite understand yet.

You smirk, pushing inside her in one slow, relentless thrust, watching her eyes widen, her lips parting on a silent cry. She's so tight, so wet, and you groan, feeling her squeeze around you like she's trying to keep you inside forever.

"God, you're gripping me so tight," you growl, your hands sliding down to her hips, holding her still. "You're lucky it's me and not someone else, Jiwon. Someone who wouldn't be so careful with you."

Her nails dig into your back, her walls fluttering around you in response, and you feel it—that dark thrill, the way her body reacts before her mind can catch up.

Then—headlights.

A sudden beam sweeps through the windshield, cutting across Jiwon's flushed skin, illuminating the scene in stark, undeniable clarity. She freezes beneath you, her body going stiff, and for a moment, neither of you move, the tension thick, suffocating.

But then—then.

You feel it.

Her walls clamp down on you, a strangled moan slipping from her lips before she can stop it. The realization hits you hard, a wicked grin curling at your lips as you lean down, your breath hot against her ear.

"You like this," you whisper, rolling your hips slowly, deliberately, dragging a ragged gasp from her throat. "The idea of being seen... being watched."

"I—" She shakes her head, but her nails scrape against your skin, and her hips move on their own, rocking against you.

"Liar," you murmur again, biting down gently on her neck, feeling the way she squirms beneath you. "Look at you, clenching around me so tight. Are you dripping because you're scared, or because you want them to see what a good little wife you are?"

She whimpers, her face turning away in shame, but you catch her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze. "Tell me, Jiwon," you demand, thrusting deep, slow, pulling another gasp from her. "Would you let them watch? Let them see how I ruin you?"

She shakes her head frantically, but the way her body tightens, the way her thighs tremble against yours, tells you the truth.

"You would," you chuckle darkly, dragging your cock out slowly before slamming back in, making her arch under you. "You'd let them see how desperate you are for me."

"Stop," she pleads, but there's no real conviction in her voice, just raw, trembling need.

You lean down, your lips brushing hers. "Make me," you challenge, your thrusts growing rougher, deeper, filling her completely.

She doesn't. She can't. She's lost in it now, lost in you, her legs wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you deeper, harder.

"You feel so good," you groan, dragging a hand up her body to cup her breast, teasing the sensitive peak. "You were made for this, Jiwon. Made for me."

Her whimpers grow louder, her grip desperate, and you clamp a hand over her mouth again. "Shh," you murmur, your pace relentless. "Unless you want them to hear you."

She moans against your palm, her body trembling violently beneath you, and you feel it—she's close, right on the edge, teetering.

"Come for me," you rasp, thrusting hard, deep, hitting that spot that makes her eyes roll back. "Show me how much you love this."

Her body tenses, and with a muffled cry, she shatters around you, her walls gripping you like a vice, pulling you deeper into her heat. The tight squeeze, the raw desperation, it's too much—your own release hits you like a freight train, a guttural groan ripping from your throat as you spill inside her, holding her close, buried deep.

For a moment, neither of you move, the only sound filling the car is your ragged breathing, the creak of the leather seat beneath you, and the distant hum of the city.

Jiwon slumps against you, trembling, her body still pulsing around you in the aftershocks. Your hands stay firm on her hips, grounding her, keeping her in place.

"You'll regret this tomorrow," you whisper against her damp skin, smirking when she doesn't respond, just clings to you tighter.

For a moment, you let yourself enjoy it—the way she fits against you, the way she’s still trying to catch her breath. But then your eyes flicker to the dashboard, and a low curse slips from your lips.

“Shit.”

Jiwon stirs slightly, dazed and blissed out. “Hmm?”

You run a hand down your face, frustration simmering beneath the lingering heat of your release. “The dinner. Your parents.”

Her entire body stiffens against you, her eyes snapping open in alarm. “Oh my God.”

You grin darkly, smoothing your hands over her hips. “Yeah. We’re very late.”

The drive to the dinner is quiet, the hum of the engine a dull counterpoint to the chaos in your head. You keep your eyes on the road, grip tight on the steering wheel, but you feel her. Always her.

Jiwon sits beside you, radiating a warmth that’s annoying in its persistence. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch it—the flush on her cheeks, the way her fingers trace idle patterns on her thigh, the faint, stupid smile she’s trying to hide. It makes your jaw clench. She’s glowing, soft and satisfied, like she’s just been given something precious instead of fucked raw in a parking lot.

Pathetic.

But then her hand drifts toward yours, tentative, brushing your knuckles. You stiffen. “What?” you snap, sharper than intended.

She flinches, but doesn’t retreat. “Can I… hold your hand?”

The question is so absurd, so ordinary, you nearly laugh. But her eyes—wide, hopeful, still hazy with whatever delusion she’s spinning—stop you. You should refuse. Should remind her this isn’t a romance. But the memory of her body clenching around you, desperate and yours, lingers like a brand.

“Fine,” you mutter, relenting. “If you need to cling.”

Her fingers slip into yours, soft and trusting, and you hate how your pulse jumps. You tell yourself it’s a reward. A leash. Let her have this small comfort, if it keeps her pliant for what’s coming.

She squeezes gently, and you squeeze back—harder, a warning. Mine.

“Thank you,” she whispers, leaning her head against the window, that damned smile still playing on her lips.

You don’t answer. Instead, you focus on the road, on the cold calculus of the dinner ahead. Let her dream. Let her think this changes anything.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant, Jiwon exhaled shakily, her fingers still entwined with his. The steady warmth of his hand had been her anchor throughout the drive, grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected. But as the valet opened her door, reality crashed back in, sharp and unforgiving. She pulled her hand away instinctively, smoothing the fabric of her dress in a futile attempt to steady herself.

But when you pull up to the restaurant, her hand still in yours, you don’t let go. Not yet.

~~~

Stepping out, the towering entrance of the restaurant loomed before her, an imposing reminder of what awaited inside. The mere thought of facing her father—her stepmother—sent an uneasy twist through her stomach.

She lingered by the car, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. He noticed.

With a quiet sigh, he reached out, his palm open in silent reassurance.

“Jiwon,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady. “Come here.”

Her eyes flickered to his hand, uncertainty clouding her expression. “I—”

“You’ll be fine.” His tone softened, but there was an undeniable firmness beneath it. “I’m right here.”

After a beat, she swallowed hard and placed her hand back in his. His fingers curled around hers, firm and unwavering, and the tension coiled in her chest loosened—just a little.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, leading her forward with the quiet confidence she envied. “Just stay close to me,” he said smoothly, as if his presence alone could shield her from everything that lay ahead.

Jiwon nodded, clutching his hand tighter as they stepped through the grand entrance. Inside, the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses faded into the background, overshadowed by the looming confrontation she could feel brewing.

The hostess greeted them with a polite nod before guiding them toward the private dining room. As the door swung open, Jiwon’s heart faltered.

The room was elegant, the chandelier above casting a warm glow over the meticulously arranged table. His grandmother sat at the head, a pillar of quiet authority. At the sight of them entering together, her lips curved ever so slightly, a flicker of intrigue crossing her face.

Her father and stepmother, however, were not so welcoming.

Jiwon’s father’s expression shifted—shock flickering across his usually impassive features before his gaze hardened into something sharper, more calculating. Her stepmother, ever composed, maintained a careful smile, but Jiwon didn’t miss the way her fingers tensed against the table’s edge.

They hadn’t expected her to come. More importantly, they hadn’t expected for her to come with him.

A fleeting sense of satisfaction sparked in her chest, only to be replaced by the crushing weight of their stares.

Jiwon’s grip on his hand faltered, uncertainty creeping in. Had this been a mistake?

As they stepped further inside, the atmosphere thickened with unspoken expectations. Conversations stilled, glasses set down mid-motion.

Jiwon forced a nervous smile, holding onto him like a lifeline. “Ah, um…” she started, her voice catching in her throat. “Father, Mother, I—” She glanced toward him, as if drawing strength. “This is—”

And then it happened.

The shift.

His demeanor changed in an instant. The warmth that had reassured her moments ago disappeared, replaced by a cold, unrelenting presence.

His gaze fixed on her stepmother with a sharp, unwavering intensity, and the sudden chill in the air made Jiwon’s pulse stutter. The hand that had held hers so gently now felt like a distant memory.

Without thinking, she withdrew her fingers, instinctively retreating from the invisible force radiating from him.

Her throat tightened as she stole a glance at him. Gone was the composed man who had whispered reassurances in the car; in his place stood someone far colder, far more dangerous.

Her father’s voice sliced through the silence. “You’re late.”

Jiwon stiffened at the weight of his disapproval, but beside her, he remained unmoved, his gaze locked on her stepmother with a simmering fury that made her insides twist.

He didn’t need to say a word—his presence alone sent a message clear enough.

Jiwon swallowed, suddenly feeling like an outsider in her own family’s presence.

Maybe… maybe she shouldn’t have come.

a/n: part 3 coming...

[always-just-red]

HIIIIII congrats on 200 followers!! Can I have a Zayne smut fic pleasee?? Like the reader sees him wearing scrubs for the first time and she finds him hot or (reverse) him seeing the reader in uniform for the first time? Thank you!!

Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this! '200 followers' is like a punch in the face reminding me how long this has been in the queue haha, but thank you so much! ❤ I don't write smut I'm afraid but this is a quick lil build-up to a cliff-hanger, so if any of the talented smut writers out there wanna write a part 2? Go for it! And tag me so I can read it link it here for everyone to enjoy!! Smut writers, I summon you!!! ✨🔥✨🔥✨✨

Professionalism

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You love a man in uniform! Or... well, scrubs or whatever.

Genre: Suggestive (not smut sorryyy)

Warnings/Additional tags: still PG i guess since it cuts off before anything happens? gn!reader, established relationship, inappropriate workplace behaviour (shame on you Dr Zayne!!)

| Word count: 1.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You’re not quite sure when this game started, but you’re going to win.

It was unassuming at first— harmless, even innocent little acts that slipped into something else altogether, as they so often do. Almost like falling in love: it snuck up on you. Coincidences— a chance meeting in the park, an accidental brush of two hands— become suddenly calculated. You take the reins from fate; you walk in the park where he takes his lunch, and he takes his lunch in the park where you walk. How fortunate it is, that you’re always running into one another.

Yes, this has been like falling in love. And neither one of you is naïve.

It’s dark outside the hospital. The stars are contesting the scattered, infinite lights of Linkon and you watch them through a window, finding meanings and shapes. They’ve a warmer glow than the cold, white, clinical lights in here.

“Could I get you something while you wait?” Yvonne asks, peeking over the top of the reception desk. She sounds anxious, and you can make a pretty good guess as to why.

“I’m fine. Thank you, though, really,” you smile cheerfully back.

She humours you with one in return. “I’m sure Dr Zayne will be along shortly,” she titters nervously, trying to fill the quiet. “He was with his last patient of the round when I spoke to him. It shouldn’t have been too much trouble, he must be— ah! Dr Greyson!”

The man was just passing through, face buried in a clipboard, but he stops at Yvonne’s greeting.

You lift a hand. “Hey, Greyson.”

“Hey!” He squints at something he’s read. “What a coincidence! I was just saying to Zayne it’s been a while since you paid us a—” he looks up and loses his train of thought. 

“Visit?” you finish.

“Umm… yes,” he chuckles, with the kind of reluctance that tells you he can’t decide if he’s falling victim to some prank. It’s the same anxiousness you’ve inflicted on poor Yvonne. He tests the waters with a: “Rough day at work?”

You beam at him. You’re sat with your usually pristine uniform marred by swathes of half-dried blood, too dark to be human. Not one bit of it is yours. By some miracle, you managed to perfectly dodge every swipe of that Wanderer’s claws today. Rolled out the way of every flying piece of rubble. “You should see the other guy,” you say, then double back, “well, the other thing.”

Greyson gives a stiff grin, still sceptical, but you’ve almost won him over. Nonchalantly, you reach for one of two brown paper bags at your side, then hold it out to him. “Here, for you!”

He tucks his clipboard under his arm, then comes over and takes it. There’s a soft crinkle as he unfurls the top. Sneaks a glance inside. His face lights up. “Thank you,” he enthuses, his hand diving in to retrieve a large chocolate-chip cookie— one of many. “Yvonne, would you like—”

She holds up her own paper bag. Greyson chuckles again, tucking into the treat. Like Zayne, he’s prone to working through his breaks, and you know he’s so often starving. Midway through a bite, he looks up at you, frowning. “Is this a bribe?” he mumbles, cheeks so full you almost can’t make out the question.

You smile at him pleasantly.

He chews slowly— connecting the dots. “No questions asked?” he guesses with a raised eyebrow.

“No questions asked,” you nod.

It’s a fair trade. The cardiac surgeon thinks it over, his eyes narrowed at you behind his glasses. He takes another suspenseful bite of the cookie. Chews. Swallows. Then there’s the broadest grin you’ve seen yet. “Works for me! I don’t want to know.”

With a nod to Yvonne, he carries on down the corridor, shooting you a knowing wink as he passes. You adore that man. Hell, half the hospital staff feel like family. You’d lay down your life for them, but you also delight in having them wrapped around your finger, albeit, with the help of a cookie or two.

You’re so busy watching Greyson leave that you don’t notice his absence has already been filled. Not at first, anyway, but then you feel it: hazel eyes on you.

You turn to meet them. Zayne stands, one hand curled around a small stack of paperwork, the other retrieving his glasses from his face. He tucks them into his breast pocket. “What a pleasant surprise,” he says, and the enthusiasm has been carved out of his words and replaced with suspicion.

“Hey, doctor,” you tease, lifting the last of your care packages from the coffee table. “Thought I’d join you for your break before I head home. Do you mind?”

His gaze flits over you, and it isn’t the honourable inspection he’d claim it to be if you dared call him out on it. He’s trying not to look again. “Of course not.”

This would usually earn you a sheepish smile, or a kiss on the cheek, but you’re angling for something else today. Victory. Look at him: he knows.

Like you said, neither one of you is naïve.

…

All right— knife to your throat?— you have an inkling as to how this started.

It was a more honest version of this: you’d stopped by the hospital, a few months ago, to boost the morale of a certain doctor and his hard-working team with some coffee from down the road. The machine in the staff room was broken, and by multiple accounts: made shitty coffee, anyway. So you often found yourself, hot drinks in hand, trying to catch Zayne on one of his few breaks.

(You miss that old coffee machine. They’ve replaced it, now.)

One morning, you were a little too late. Zayne had been called on to assist with a surgery, and you almost clashed in the corridor— you hadn’t recognised him at first. He was out of his usual attire: dressed head to toe in his medical scrubs. Despite the rush he was in, he made time to flash you a gentle smile. Said you could wait in his office; he wouldn’t be long.

You never did give a coherent answer. There was something about seeing him like that— so professional, so in his element. Off to save someone’s life, probably. Gods, he was amazing, and he just looked so, so good. 

Zayne knew from the start, of course; he’s so perceptive when it comes to you.

You used to feel guilty— positively sinful— until you caught that look in his eye, one day after work. You’d gotten to his place, kicked your boots off while he watched from the couch, enamoured, but you hadn’t noticed. You’d been complaining about a Wanderer. You were a mess: your hair, your uniform.

You remember looking up, and there it was. A flicker of something dark in his gaze.

He was quick to disguise it. Always quick to disguise it, because he’s a gentleman.

It’s been an unspoken war of attrition since then, and you’re both determined to outlast the other. You pick and choose your battles; there are times Xavier tries to drag you to the Association’s medics for surface scrapes and bruises, but you turn him down: you have a doctor at home, thank you very much.

Zayne tends to every wound with tight lips and steady hands. You’d feel bad, but…

He sometimes turns up to your dates still wearing his lab coat. (He left his regular coat at home again, and it’s cold outside, isn’t it? A lab coat is better than nothing.)

Last week, he really pushed his luck. He was demonstrating a new experimental technique in the operating theatre, and Greyson insisted you come along to watch. It was so innovative, he said. Zayne was working something of a miracle, he said.

So here you are, fighting back.

“Well?” Zayne asks. He’s sitting back in his chair while you ‘straighten’ his tie.

You’re perched on his desk, not listening. “Hmm?”

He catches your hand gently, using it to pull you closer, so you’re forced to meet his eyes. His tone is low. “What did I just say?”

You glance down again. Chuckle: “Something about responsibility?” 

A finger lifts your chin, tilting your gaze back up. “It’s inappropriate,” Zayne says.

“What’s inappropriate?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“No,” you mutter, and the finger on your chin can’t keep you from staring at his lips. You speak a whisper of enticement: “Tell me what I’m doing.”

Will he do it— say it— after all this time? Put it to words so that it might finally be acted upon? Break, you will him, looking into his eyes, because the last stunt he pulled pushed you over the edge, and you can’t hold on much longer. It’s starting to hurt.

All in. You are going to fall, so you’ve got nothing to lose by trying to bring him down with you.

“It’s just a uniform, Zayne,” you smile innocently. “But if it bothers you that much… I could always take it off.”

Your doctor stares at you, his expression refusing to melt. Then he lets out a sigh. In the beat of a heart he’s up out of his chair, striding away from his desk, away from you.

“Zayne?”

Now he’s not listening. He’s by the door, taking his lab coat down from a hook and threading his arms through the sleeves. He fixes the cuffs, straightens it, but that’s where the motions of habit end. His fingers don’t make it to the buttons, and of course you notice; you’re not naïve.

Zayne turns to you, and there’s no disguising that look in his eyes and its common counterpart: a rare, inevitable smile. Complete surrender. He locks the door with a click.

Ha.

You were always going to win, weren’t you?

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 3

Word Count- 2.7

Warnings- swearing, canon violence, spoilers obvi, puking

“I really think this is a bad idea,” I tell Elena and Rose from the backseat of Elena’s SUV. Earlier this morning Elena called me and asked if I would go with her to one of Rose’s friends to learn more about Klaus. I had originally going to tell her no, but then remembered Theo had been trying to get me to take him to some football game upstate and I needed a reason to say no. I may hate the supernatural, but not as much as I hate packed arenas filled with drunk older men. 

“Everything will be fine, Y/N. We’re just going to ask Slater some questions and we’ll be on our way back to Mystic Falls before dinner,” Elena sends me a reassuring smile from the front seat, “Besides, Slater can be trusted. Right, Rose?” She questions the pixie-haired vampire who sits silently in the driver’s seat. 

Rose nods along to Elena’s question, “I’ve known Slater for a long time he’s the only person I have fully trusted other than…” Her face falls into a solemn look and I presume she’s thinking about Trevor, her now headless friend. Elena sends her a sad look while I try to find interest in my hands. Dealing with other people’s emotions has never been my strong suit. 

“The bottom line is, we can trust him. If anyone is going to know anything about Klaus and ritual it’ll be him.” 

I sigh and lean back into my seat, staring out the window. I watch as we drive by countless people going throughout their days. Normal-average-looking people doing mundane things, walking strollers, going to work, and school. Now that I know about the supernatural though questions swarm my mind if the people I’m watching are actual people. I mean I’m going to guess that baby in the stroller wasn’t a vampire…well. 

“Do vampire babies exist,” I ask aloud. Elena turns to look over her shoulder at me and Rose just lets out a deep sigh as she flips the blinker on.

“Vampires can’t reproduce, so no,” She responds solemnly to which I shake my head, “No I mean like can babies be vampires?”

This question gains Rose’s attention as she turns over her shoulder and looks at me with an “Are you serious” look. Elena just looks from me to Rose, then back to me before shaking her head.

“No,” She pauses in thought, “At least I don’t think they can be. I mean technically maybe they could be but I don’t think an infant would be able to hunt for blood.”

Elena and I nod together as we come to the final conclusion that babies can in fact be vampires. 

“Baby vampires don’t exist,” Rose states annoyed.

“Why not,” Elena turns to Rose who looks like she’s close to turning this car around or driving it off a cliff. 

Rose is quiet for a moment as if she is actually going to give the question an answer before she shakes her head and sighs.

“They just can’t,” She turns the wheel into a parking spot in front of an industrial building, “We’re here.”

—

“Well, looks like he’s not home. Better come another day,” I’ll tell them as Rose’s knocks are met with no response. I twirl around on my heel and climb down a step but halt when Elena’s hand grabs the sleeve of my jacket. 

“Mmn, no. We didn’t come all the way out here for nothing,” She says as she motions at the door to Rose. Rose just rolls her eyes as she breaks open the latch on the door. Impressive. Rose motions for us to walk in and I begrudgingly follow behind Elena. 

Slater’s apartment is large with brick walls. My gaze catches odd-looking artifacts that line the bricked walls, along with artwork that appears to be mid-century. 

“I don’t think he’s going to be much help,” Rose’s voice comes from the living room. Elena is already walking towards her when she lets out a gasp making my spine lock up. I slowly peek my head past the door and choke down bile as I see the veiny corpse of who I’m assuming was Slater. 

“Shit.”

—-

I’m sitting on the couch of the dead guys' apartment as Rose and Elena look through Slater’s stuff. I wrap my sweater around my tighter as I watch them get stumped by the password-locked computers. I listen to Rose tell Elena we should just leave since we don’t have the password when a rustling comes from the room behind us. 

“Is the dead guy alive,” I whisper as I kneel on the couch and barely raise my eyes over the top of it to try to look at the door? Rose walks to the door and clutches my sweater tighter to me as she opens it up and stares out. 

“Alice,” Rose’s voice questioned.

“I thought the dead guy's name was Slater,” I whisper-yell to Elena as she just shakes her head. We both whip our heads to Rose as a dark-haired girl runs into her arms crying. So not Slater. I slightly cringe at her high-pitched cries and lower myself back onto the couch as Rose tries to soothe her. 

—

Ten minutes later Rose, Elena, and I are in Slater’s kitchen making Slater’s “widow” tea. I had felt a moment of sympathy for the black-haired woman about losing her boyfriend until Rose enlightened Elena and me on her real reason for being with Slater. She had wanted to become a vampire aswell. 

Rose and I watch from the kitchen as Elena tries to get the passcode out of Alice. It doesn’t seem to be going well until Elena promises Alice that she’ll get Rose to turn her if she helps us. Unsurprisingly that changes Alice’s dark mood and she skips over to the table of monitors. She puts in his password as Elena and Rose watch from over her shoulder. I haven’t changed from my seat in the kitchen though, just silently sipping the spare apple juice box I found in the fridge. 

My ears perk up as Alice tells us his password was Kristen Stewart and how predictable Slater was. I pull myself off my bar stool and walk into the living room sipping my juice.

“What about that one? “Cody Webber, THey exchanged dozens of e-mails about Elijah,” Rose asks Alice pointing out some emails.

“I could call him,” Alice tells her. 

Elena hands her her phone, “Tell him that we’re trying to send a message to Klaus. The doppelganger’s alive, and she is ready to surrender.”

Elena’s admission shocks me so much I drop my juice box onto the floor, “What the hell?” 

Elena doesn’t look at either Rose or me as she tells Alice to get the message to him and she walks out of the room. Rose and I just stare at each other for a moment in shock before we rush after Elena. 

“What are you doing,” Rose presses Elena.

“I’m getting Klaus’s attention.” Is all Elena says as if it’s not signing her own death certificate. Last night after I’d gotten home from picking Theo up Elena called me and filled me in on everything about this ritualistic sacrifice with this old guy Klaus. That’s the reason we had been taken. So why she wants to get this old guy’s attention now is beyond me. 

“Well, no shit Elena! We got that part. What we want to know is why would you want to,” I throw my hands up at her in exasperation. 

“If Klaus finds you he will kill you,” Rose looks at Elena as if she’s grown a second head and then comes to a realization, “which is what you wanted all along.”

Elena shakes her head, “It’s either me or my family.”

“So this whole charade was some suicide mission so you could sacrifice yourself and save everyone else.” Rose shakes her head at Elena’s actions as the sound of heals and the smell of Victoria’s Secret perfume enter the room.

“Cody is on his way,” I side-eye Alice, “And he really wants to meet you.”

—

Rose and I watch silently as Elena walks back into the living room, to wait for the Grimp Reaper named Cody. 

“Ok listen to me,” Rose calls my attention as she pulls out her phone from her jeans, “You’re going to use my phone to call Damon and get him here no matter what. Do you understand me? I’ll go distract the suicidal one.” Rose shoves the phone into my hand and speeds off into the living room. I open her phone to find Damon’s contact and hope he picks up.

“What,” Damon’s annoyed voice comes from the other end.

“Um, hi. This is Y/N.” 

Damon’s side goes quiet for a moment, “Who?”

I roll my eyes at his annoyed tone, “Y’know the girl that got kidnapped with Elena?”

“Elena gets kidnapped a lot you’re going to have to be more specific.”

I sigh deeply, “The one that smelled like vomit.”

“Ah, that one. What do you want Pukey, and why do you have Rose’s phone?” His tone has a sense of suspicion in it that makes me unnerved.

“Well long story short Elena made Rose and I take her to this dead guy's apartment,” I stop for a moment, “Well technically we didn’t know he was dead but..”

“Pukey spit it out I don’t have all day.”

“OK fine, sorry. Anyways, long story short Elena’s planned some suicide mission to give herself to Klaus and we need you to come to the dead guy's apartment to help us get her out of here.”

Damon lets out an annoyed growl from the other line, “Send me the address.”

“Ok, great I’ll send that-,” The dial tone cuts me off, “Ok then, rude.” I send Damon the address and pocket Rose’s phone hoping that he’ll get here in time. 

—-

I try to focus on the coolness of the new apple juice in my hand as I watch the door from my spot on the couch. Elena’s pacing can be heard from behind me which is almost as noticeable as the scowl on Rose’s face. Elena’s pacing stops, gaining my attention as I move my gaze from the door to her.

“I’m just going to get a drink,” She tells me as she walks towards the kitchen. Rose and I share a look of discomfort as she exits. Elena’s gasps catch our attention though and my stomach drops expecting the worst as I rush to the kitchen. My guard drops slightly though as the familiar blue-eyed vampire, who I’m 89% sure is in love Elena stands in front of her. 

“What are you doing here,” Damon questions Elena.

“What are you doing here,” Elena’s voice comes out breathy and she turns around to look at Rose and me. 

“You called him,” She exclaims earning a small shrug and pursed lips from me, and a frown from Rose. 

“We’re sorry, Elena,” Rose apologizes for us both.

“You said that you understood,” I go to chime in that I never said that but Damon speaks first. 

“She lied.” Elena turns and I can only guess glares at him, which seems to be something she does a lot when it comes to Damon. I groan deeply as I get another whiff of that fucking perfume.

“Damon Salvatore,” Alice exclaims as she enters the room acting like she and Damon are old friends.

Damon tells Rose to get rid of her without breaking eye contact with Elena. As Rose leaves the room with Alice and my nostrils are free from the assault I stand awkwardly behind Elena and Damon as they argue back and forth. Elena tells him that she’s not going anywhere and Damon tells her the exact opposite. I try to sneak backward to escape this awkward situation but my back hits a shelf behind me knocking a vase of it and I watch with a scrunched-up face as it shatters against the floor. 

“Whoops.”

Damon shoves Elena into a chair, “You sit down, and you,” Damon’s attention turns to me, “just don’t touch anything else.” I raise my hands in surrender as I keep my hold on my juice.

Everything’s going fine until the front door slams open causing me to spill some juice onto the top of my shirt in surprise. I can’t bother to clean it up though as I watch in fear as three bulky men enter the room. Where Rose, Damon, and Elena stand up to face them I slink further into my armchair with my comfort juice. I would help but I don’t think I can hold a candle to three vampires. 

“We’re here for the doppelganger,” the blond one in the middle says.

“Thank you for coming,” Elena attempts to step forward but is grabbed by Damon. He tells her something but I’m too far away to hear it.

Damon turns back to face the men, “There’s nothing here for you.” 

I jump in my seat when the man in the back falls to the ground. That turning feeling in my stomach from days ago returns as I see the man who is supposed to be very dead standing VERY much alive. Elijah. His brown hair is parted down the middle and a deep scowl is plastered on his face. Just like the other day, he’s dressed in a fancy button-up and slacks with shoes that probably cost more than my car. 

Elijah speeds forward to the other two men, and I find myself involuntarily inching forward in my seat. I freeze though once I realize this movement has captured Elijah’s attention and the dark look from before has lessened into something that makes something deep in my chest flutter around. What the fuck Y/N? I’m frozen in place as Elijah’s eyes move across my face and down to the apple juice I’m now constricting in my hands. I watch as for a moment the corners of Elijah’s lips perk up.

“I ki

“I killed you, you were dead” Damon accusingly says to Elijah. Elijah's gaze slowly slides from mine and towards Damon.

“For centuries now,” Elijah’s nonchalant voice has me swallowing down a snort as I cover my mouth. Elijah’s eyes slide to mine for a moment making me realize he must’ve heard.

The burly man from before is the next to speak, “Who are you?”

“I’m Elijah.”

This revelation has the two men instantly dropping their alpha male acts, “We were going to bring her to you…for Klaus. She’s the doppelganger. I don’t know how she exists, but she does. Klaus would want to see her.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his words. It’s kind of obvious she’s the doppelganger buddy. Elijah doesn’t glance at the man once.

“Does anyone else know that you’re here,” As Elijah says this I get a sickening feeling in my gut just like before when I watched him decapitate a grown man. Elijah’s eyes pan to mine and then he glances at the window next to me. I look away from him and focus on the outside world beyond the glance since I feel what’s coming. 

“Well,” Elijah continues, “then you have been incredibly helpful.” Gasps are the next audible thing as I clench my eyes shut and listen to two bodies drop to the floor. 

—-- 

Elena’s hands are holding my hair back as I puke up my guts in the apartment parking lot. Damon who is already in the car is sighing so loudly I can hear him over my gags. Asshole. 

“Just let it out,” Elena brushes back my hair soothingly, “Everything’s ok now.”

I whip my head back to throw her a, “are you serious” look. To which she responds with a shrug. I lift off my hands and knees and wipe my lips. Elena guides me to Damon’s car as I slide into the back seat. Elena’s door isn’t even fully shut before Damon hightails us out of the parking lot. 

“I thought Elijah was dead! You guys told me he was dead! Why isn’t he not dead,” I exclaim from the backseat.

Damon’s fists tighten on the leather steering wheel, “Great question Pukey. It’s almost like no one else was wondering it.” His sarcastic remark and the unflattering nickname have me glaring at him.

“Damon enough,” Elena backs me up, “Y/N is right. Why is Elijah alive and why did he just leave us there alive?” 

We sit in silence for a moment pondering the truth of Elena’s question. 

“I’m not sure,” Damon glances at the side of Elena’s face, “But I’m going to find out.”

[joedirtymadre]

Angst+fluffy Luffy x reader where the reader almost dies! Like, after a battle reader faints and luffy gets worried sick cuz he remembers of Ace death

Doctor!

LUFFY X READER! FLUFF + ANGST!

“Come on (Y/N)!” Luffy grinned as he dragged you towards the island’s main plaza. “Luffy, we're supposed to be undercover… Nami warned us how this island is one of the Navy’s bases,” you warned as you continued following your boyfriend.

But he continued on towards the main plaza, hoping to find a food cart. “We’ll be fine, plus you’re with me! I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he smiled as he grabbed your hand. “Plus you’re just as strong as me, so we’ll be fine!” He added. You playfully rolled your eyes and nodded.

“Finally! The plaza!” He smiled. “Oh look, they have ramen over there. Or takoyaki there! Or cotton candy there!” He said excitedly as he scanned the different food carts. “Did you even bring bellies?” You asked. You quickly noticed him freeze up. “I’ll take that as a no…” you sighed.

You watched as he slowly turned to you with the biggest puppy eyes. “Luffy…” you sighed. “Ok then I guess we can go back to the ship,” he moped as he walked past you. “Oh shut up, you know I’m gonna buy you something,” you rolled your eyes. You watched as his mood changed in an instant, “Thanks! That’s why you’re the best girlfriend in the world!” He smiled as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Yeah, yeah… you owe me Straw Hat,” you smiled. “I’ll give you one of my takoyaki!” He smiled as he dragged you back to the carts. “Just one?” You asked yourself.

…

After you watched Luffy eat 2 bowls of ramen, 4 orders of takoyaki, and 1 bag of cotton candy… because you didn’t want to deal with a sugar rush. It was finally time to head back to the ship.

“That was good,” Luffy burped, as you both walked down the path. “Yeah, the ramen was pretty good. But I think I’ll always prefer Sanji’s,” you replied. “Yeah, that’s true!” Luffy smiled. You soon arrived to the cliff where the crew hid the ship and noticed it was gone.

The ship’s hiding spot was now filled with soldiers, and Navy ships.

“Did we go the wrong way?” Luffy asked. “No, this is the spot. Maybe some soldiers found them and tried to trap them,” You told him, worried for your friends. “Do you think they escaped?” He asked. “Franky, Brooke, and Usopp stayed behind, I’m sure that Franky was able to escape from them. Plus they’re probably waiting here, hoping to catch one of us who stepped into the island,” you explain. “Well let’s go look for them,” he said.

“No, we should go back into town,” you said, stopping him from running off. “Why? The ship is missing!” He shouted. “Because what if the others don’t know that the ship was found. That means the Navy knows we’re here, so they’re probably looking for them. We have to warn them, we have to find them before any soldier does,” you explained. “But…” he trailed off.

“Come on Luffy! Plus Franky has gotten us out of a bunch of bad spots, I’m sure he did it again! We need to find the oth-“ you stopped yourself. “(Y/-“ you quickly placed your hand over his mouth. “Shh,” you whispered as you heard some faint footsteps.

But it was too late. “Well, well, well… I thought I saw something on top of this cliff,” you heard a booming voice from the trees. You looked over and saw a large bald headed man in a suit. With around 10 soldiers behind him. “Crap…” you muttered. “It’s fine (Y/N), we can handle the- HEY!” Luffy yelled as a net shot at him.

“Luffy?” You called out and noticed your boyfriend struggling inside the net.

“Sea prism net, it works great when someone’s not expecting it,” the bald headed man laughed. You rushed over to Luffy without thinking, “I-I’ll get you out!” You stuttered. “(Y/N) no! Behind you!” He shouted weakly.

You quickly turned your attention back to the group and realized they were closing in on you two. “I’m sure bringing you two in would promote me to Vice Admiral,” the bald man said. “(Y/N) please run,” Luffy begged. You shook your head, “I got this, we’re ok when we’re together,” you said determined as you rose up and turned your attention towards the troop.

You were a weaponist, but all you had was a small knife. You pulled it out and the soldiers began to laugh. “That’s it? You’re planning to take us all down with that?” The man laughed. “Yep,” you said softly, before charging at one soldier who was still laughing.

You sliced him up and kicked him towards a small bunch of soldiers. Causing them to be knocked over. “Fire! Fire!” You heard one of the soldiers shout. You leapt into the air and avoided any gunshots.

You landed on another soldier and sliced up his face. You continued to cut up as many of them as you could while knocking others into one another. “How are you men still having trouble with this girl?” The tall man yelled. You raced towards Luffy and began cutting at the net, but it won’t budge. “(Y/N)… behind…” you heard Luffy say. Before you could turn around you were quickly grabbed from your hair and yanked up.

“You’re a lot of trouble for a little girl,” the man growled. “D-Don’t touch her…” Luffy said weakly as he slowly thrashed under the net. “Like you can talk! Like I said… you’re a lot of trouble, so I’m dealing with you now before you can get loose again,” he said menacingly. You squirmed and thrashed, trying to rip yourself out of his grasp, but nothing worked.

“Well good thing the flyer says alive or dead,” the man said as he lifted his sword. Before he could hurt you you jabbed the small knife into the hand that held you. The man screamed and you rushed towards Luffy.

“(Y/N) please… run,” he begged. You shook your head, searching for the strings that kept the net tied. “You bitch!” You heard. You ignored his words and finally found the knot to the net, you sliced at it with your knife and opened the net.

You smiled as you were finally able to free your boyfriend. “Luff…y,” you gasped. You felt a sharp pain pierce through your torso. “(Y/N)!” You heard, but your hearing was slowly being taken over by a sharp ringing.

Luffy’s POV

I stared in shock, but before I could think I landed on the guy that hurt her. My fists pounding on his face, until he’s unrecognizable. Before I become too caught up on him I quickly turn back to (Y/N).

She’s laying on her back holding onto her wound. I rushed over and slowly picked her up. “(Y/N)! Hey, I’m here, I’m here. You’re ok now, I-I just need Chopper. He’ll fix this! S-So don’t worry… fuck!” I panicked as I raced towards the plaza. I need a doctor, any doctor. She can’t die, I won’t let her. I thought as I raced through the forest.

I made it back to the plaza and scouted the area for

Chopper or for anyone. “I-I need a doctor…” I choked out. People began to stare at us with worried looks. “I need a doctor!” I screamed. “Please! Anyone! Please!” I cried out. Residents stared at me with panicked looks as I ran around, hoping to find someone to help. But no one stepped up, they all just stared.

My legs felt weak, and I fell to my knees, still holding her. My vision is too blurry, “Please anyone! I’m begging you! I can’t let her die!” I begged as I pressed (Y/N) closer to my chest. She can’t die, she’s supposed to be with me forever…

“Follow me!” I heard a voice call out. I snapped my head towards the voice and noticed an older man in front of a building, motioning over towards him. I jumped up and raced over, “Can you save her? Please tell me you can save her!” I shouted. “It seems she’s lost quite a bit of blood… but hurry and set her down inside! We can’t waste any more time!” The grandpa demanded and I ran inside and placed her on a small white bed that was inside the tiny office.

I watched the man rush over to (Y/N) and began placing pressure on her wound. “Hold this, she’s going to have to do an emergency surgery. I need to get ready!” He instructed and I rushed over to take his spot. After a few minutes he was back with gloves and tools. “I can take it from here, go wait outside,” he said. “No! Let me-“ he interrupted me. “I said get out! I need total concentration!” He yelled. I hesitated, but forced myself to go outside.

I sat outside and stared at the dried blood on my hands. “I should have protected her! What kind of capt- what kind of boyfriend am I?” I cried out. “It happened again! Someone I care about… I couldn’t save them…” I said as my hands snaked. “Luffy!” I quickly looked up and saw Nami, Sanji, and Chopper. “Y-You guys…” I said softly. “We saw the Navy ships, and- i-is that… blood?” Nami asked. “Where’s (Y/N)?” Chopper asked worriedly. “S-She, I… I couldn’t-" I was interrupted with a kick, sending me flying back.

Sanji grabbed me by the collar, “Where is she? If something bad happened to her…” he trailed off. “Sanji!” Nami called out.

“Now I’m not sure if this rowdiness is the best thing for your friend right now…” a soft voice said. We all turned and saw the old doctor standing at the entrance of his office, wiping his hands. I shoved Sanji off of me, and raced over to him. “How is she? Is she ok?” I asked. The doctor stared at me for what felt like a century. “She’s… she’s fine my boy,” he said as he patted my shoulder.

I lunged onto the grandpa, “Thank you… thank you for helping her. I thought I would lose her,” I cried. He patted my back, “Well she’s a tough gal, a little too tough,” he smiled. “She’s already awake,” he said softly as he pulled away. My eyes widened, “Can I see her?” I asked. “Hmm… well I’m sure a quick visit wouldn’t hurt…” he said softly as he led us into his office.

As soon as I walked in, I rushed over to her. She was sitting up, looking out the window. “(Y-Y/N)?” I choked out. She jumped from my voice and slowly turned towards me, she then smiled once our eyes met. “Luffy,” she said softly. I rushed over to her and collapsed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should’ve done better, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me…” I cried onto her lap. I felt a soft hand play with my hair, “Stop acting like I’m dead, I’m fine. Just a little scratch,” she giggled. “I love you,” I said softly. “I love you too,” she smiled as she wiped my tears.

“(Y/N)!” Chopped cried as he hopped onto her. “Hi guys,” she smiled. “Are you ok?” Nami asked as she shoved me out of the way. “I’m fine, just a bad scratch,” she smiled. “Well good, or else I would’ve killed your boyfriend,” Sanji said. “So, let’s go back to the ship?” (Y/N) asked. “We found it on the other side of the island!” Chopper said. “Well I’m not so sure she should be moving yet,” the grandpa said. “I can carry her,” I said. “Well… the Navy is looking for you now…” he muttered. “I’m a doctor as well, and I know this isn’t the best thing for the patient right now. But if anything happens I can take care of her!” Chopper explained. “Well alright then,” the grandpa said. We all nodded and prepared to safely transport (Y/N) back to the ship.

… Nighttime…

I never left (Y/N)’s side, as soon as we arrived at the ship she fell asleep and hasn’t woken up since. I even missed dinner to make sure she doesn’t wake up alone. After a few minutes she slowly opened her eyes. “Luffy,” She smiled. “(Y/N)!” I smiled back. “Have you been here all this time?” She asked me. “Yeah, I didn’t want you to wake up alone. I also… wanted to make sure you were ok,” I said softly. “I’m sorry (Y/-“ she interrupted me. “Stop, I wasn’t careful enough. I’m ok, I promise,” she said as she cupped my cheek.

“I know but I was so scared, I thought… I thought I was going to lose you like-“ I cut myself off. “I know and I’m sorry for scaring you, but you found me a doctor right?” She asked. I slowly nodded. “So you saved me, and I’m very grateful,” she said as she pulled me into a soft kiss. “Just… always keep your weapons bag on you at all times,” I say. She laughed and nodded. “I’ll keep an extra set of weapons on me too, just in case,” I said. “Sounds like a deal,” she smiled. “I love you,” she said. “I love you too,” I said as I gently pulled her into a kiss.

[bullet-prooflove]

Buck + ferry ⛴️ flowers 💐 firetruck 🚒

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mckinleysbones @sophiah2253 @qutequeersstuff @gatefleet

Buck meets you at Catalina Island during a call out. You’re dangling from a top rope halfway down a cliff face, rendering first aid to another climber, whose hanging 50 feet up in the air after knocking himself unconscious. It takes them a while to get down to you, they’ve come by air rescue because the fire truck can’t make the ferry trip to the island. They have to find the right anchor points to rappel down safely, bringing their kit and a backboard with them.

He can tell you’re on the job from the way you relay the information regarding the other Luis, the other climber’s condition. You use the same terminology, talk in a calm precise manner and you’re not squeamish, especially not about the bone that’s sticking out of the guy’s arm.

“They’ll get him down and then I’ll clip you in with me, the two of us we’ll go down together ok?” He says to you as Eddie and Chim begin to guide Luis’s form further down the cliff face.

“Honey,” You drawl, fixing him with a shrewd stare. “Trust me, I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way down.”

Honey…

For some reason the term makes Buck’s cheeks color.

As you start the descent it becomes clear to him that you’re a skilled climber, your movements are smooth, careful and in coordination with his own. The two of you set a quick pace as you abseil down the cliff. If it were any other circumstance he’d probably find it fun, but Luis has just woken up and he’s screaming blue murder because he’s just realised his forearm looks like something out of a gore movie.

“You’re one of us aren’t you.” He says when you both reach the bottom and you give him a quizzical look as you unclip the carabiner from your rope. “A firefighter?”

“Mountain rescue.” You tell him loosening the harness around your waist. “I usually work out of the national park. Today’s my day off, I thought I’d get some time in on a different rockface so I came out here to the island and then-” You gesture to Luis, shaking your head. “- your guy over there ends up bashing himself on a couple of boulders trying to get a picture with those flowers sticking out for the ‘gram.”

He's about to respond when Bobby calls out to him, he turns his head to acknowledge the words and by the time he turns back you’re already walking away to pack up your kit. He guesses you won’t be doing much more climbing today.

He can’t stop thinking about you on the way back, he takes out his phone and Googles the Los Angeles Mountain Rescue website, he finds your name on the Team Section. He spends the rest of the shift going through your Instagram feed, scrolling through your pictures, getting a sense of the person you are.

Fun, adventurous, a little wild, a little soft.

All traits that appeal to Buck in a partner.

“Are you gonna keep cyber stalking her?” Chimney asks as he drops down on the couch alongside him. “Or are you actually gonna do something about it?”

Sliding into your DMs reminds him of his dating app days and Buck, he’s not looking for something casual, he wants to settle down, experience something real.

It’s a few days later that you run into each other, literally. He’s grabbing a smoothie order for the firehouse when he collides with you in the doorway, he’s skimming through your feed again, whilst you have your eyes fixed firmly on your own screen. He apologises as he knocks the phone out of your hand, bending down to pick it up and that’s when he sees it. His profile live on your screen. It looks like he’s not the only one that’s been doing a little cyber stalking.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day.” He says as he hands the phone back to you. “I’m Buck.”

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[kaiijo]

AUDACIOUS — MIYA OSAMU

pairing: miya osamu x fem! reader content: timeskip! osamu, fluff, comedy

you had already told your sister that it was a bad idea but she begged and pleaded with you, and you’ve always had a huge soft spot for her. when you were little, you’d let her play with your toys, would cover up for her when she broke curfew, and played wingman on more than one occasion. all she has to do is give you her big, round puppy dog eyes and a jutted lip and you’re putty in her hands. Really, if you had a stronger constitution, this could all have been avoided.

because, right now, you’re sitting in your dining room, your husband across the table with his arms crossed. he’s eyes are narrowed and he asks, “so, what do ya have to say for yerself?”

you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his glance. “I had no other choice, ‘samu.”

“bullshit. ya did and ya know it.”

“babe—”

he holds his hand up. “i don’t want to hear it. i expected better from ya.”

you head shoots up and you throw your hands up, exasperated. “i’m sorry, ‘samu, i already apologized a million times!”

he huffs, “sorry’s not gonna cut it. you broke my trust.” there’s a beat and then he looks you squarely in the eyes. “was it worth it? worth it to break my heart?”

you can’t contain the snort you let out. “really, babe? i thought you left the dramatics to atsumu.”

“s’not dramatic when you cheated on me!”

you roll your eyes. “you did not just say that to me. all i did was go to onigiri empire!”

osamu makes a sound of disgust. “don’t make it sound so casual! ya directly patronized my main competitor!”

“my sister wanted to try it!”

“oh, so if yer sister jumped off a cliff, ya would to?”

“oh my god, it’s not that deep, ‘samu!” you rub your temples but when you glance at osamu’s scowling face, you cross the room and stand in front of him. placing both your hands on his shoulders, you say carefully, “i’m sorry i ate at onigiri empire, baby. i won’t do it again, promise. even if my sister begs me to go again, i’ll say no. can you please not be mad at me anymore?”

you take a page out of your sister’s book and give osamu your best pouty, puppy dogs eyes and you see how he immediately softens. if there’s someone who’s more whipped for another person than you are for your sister, it’s osamu for you. he lets out a long breath and says, “i’m sorry i overreacted, sweetheart.”

osamu stands and opens his arms, which you eagerly step into, and he wraps them tightly around you. he tucks his head into your shoulder and murmurs, “as long as ya didn’t like theirs more than mine.”

“how could i? i know yours are made with love.”

he chuckles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

a few days later, when you come home, osamu calls you into the kitchen. you cock your head in confusion; osamu hardly ever invites you to the kitchen. you’ve been banned from it ever since you nearly burned it down trying to make your husband breakfast in bed for your first anniversary seven years ago. hanging your coat up, you cautiously creep into the kitchen.

osamu’s standing at the kitchen island and he perks up when you come in, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand. you eye his suspiciously as you walk over and he pecks the crown of your head. “how was yer day at work?”

“good, mitsubishi was annoying as usual.” you glance over his shoulder, where two onigiri sit on different plates. you ask, “did you make a new recipe?”

he shrugs and just pushes both plates towards you. “try a bite of each.”

“you’re acting weird, ‘samu.” you pause and say, “you’re actually acting like you did when you and atsumu made me guess which one you were.”

he gives you a look. “just try them.”

you sigh, “okay, okay.”

you take a bite on the left onigiri, savoring the sticky rice, seaweed, and kombu — your favorite flavor. you take a bit of the right one and it’s also kombu. you look at your husband, perplexed. “these are the same flavors, baby, and you already have kombu in the store.”

“which one did you like more?”

you blink. “what?”

“which one did you like more?” he repeats.

you contemplate and then point at the left one. “this one has a fuller flavor, i guess? ‘samu, what’s this—”

osamu lets out a whoop of victory and scoops you into his arms, lifting  you up and spinning you around. he cheers, “my baby knows my onigiri’s better!”

ah, you think with a fond roll of your eyes, so that’s what this is about.

[peeweekey]

cliff talk | sebastian x reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: sebastian brings you on a ride.

tags: emotional hurt/comfort, slight angst, dialogue heavy, sebastian and reader have a heart to heart

a/n: i never thought i'd be writing for the emo boy but here i am. hope you guys liked this as much as i liked writing this! :D

Like the green rain phenomenon or the cute little junimo creatures that live in the community center, there’s always something new to experience in the valley. As odd as it might be.

Hunched over, tending to your crops—is like living in wait, the calm before the storm, the thrum of anticipation as you await the next exciting thing.

Like today—now.

“Ah, there you are.”

The garden shears in your hands are dropped into the thick down crawl of growing fruit. You look up, squinting your eyes due to the warm beat of dying sunlight.

“Sebastian?” you pause, looking up at him from your spot amongst growing melon vines. Your overalls smeared with dirt and damp with sweat—this is the last state you’d want to be seen in.

“Hey farmer,” The keys dangling from his index finger jingle as he gives you a close-lipped smile. “Wanna go for a ride?”

—

The place Sebastian stops at is quiet.

But not in the way most people think—the valley is never quiet, birds chirping, the breeze singing through tall grass and the rustle of branches swaying slowly. You’re aware of the sounds in the recesses of your mind. 

The view is breath-taking.

The sun set long before you arrived on Sebastian’s cliff side spot. It’s cool and grassy, ticking your ankles as you walk through the field. The air, no longer warm but a cool breeze that you greedily inhale.

You stop right before the edge, there’s a big drop that you'd rather not slip and fall into. Zuzu city lay just under the horizon, a smatter of light in the otherwise now-dark forest. A cluster of flashing lights that remind you of stars—that have fallen and gathered from the night sky.

“Amazing, I know.” Sebastian says, a few steps behind you. He’s leaning against his bike, staring at the same view as you. “Zuzu city is miles from here, but there’s so much light—you can see it even from high up.”

You fold your arms, turning your back at the view—facing him. “Well, it is nicer from afar.”

Sebastian gives you a look, then nods his head to the grassy patch behind him. “Mhm. Let’s sit?”

You settle down together, side by side. You, him, and his motorbike beside him—there’s barely any space between your legs. You feel the warmth of proximity—so close. What you’d give to bridge that gap once and for all.

“Want a drink?” he asks, pulling out a beer bottle from his hoodie pocket—your brow raises, a miracle it didn’t break on the way. “Only got one though.”

You shrug, taking the bottle. It’s warm—warmed by his body heat. “S’okay with me. We’ll just have’ta share.”

He looks at you, eyes momentarily flickering to your lips as you use your teeth to pop the bottle cap off. “I guess we do.”

—

The beer is settling warmly low in your stomach, loosening every tightly wound muscle in your body. You feel weightless, the edges of your mind made fuzzy. 

“I’ve been savin’ up a lot,” he suddenly says, picking absentmindedly at the blades of grass underneath him. “Almost have enough too. Once I do, I’m skipping outta this town on my bike.”

You nod your head. “It is a pretty cool bike.”

“Mhm,” he drawls, patting the side of his motorcycle—almost lovingly. “It’s gonna take me all the way to Zuzu city.”

“Zuzu city,” you repeat slowly, feeling the sound of the words in your mouth. It’s unpleasant, Zuzu city is a place you’d rather leave behind. You look down at the view of it, squinting. “Why go there?”

He pauses, inhaling the cool night air deeply. His fingers itch—like they’re searching for the comforting hold of cigarettes he so enjoys. 

A part of you wishes you didn’t ask. Difficult conversations and cliff sides don’t mesh well together, you think. You don’t dare move a muscle as you wait for him, your eyes drifting back to the glittering light-filled view of Zuzu city.

“It’s suffocating here—everything about the valley,” he replies mirthlessly. “I live in the basement of my mom’s house for fuck’s sake. I know how she looks at me, like she could’ve done so much more to make me less of a shitbag. Maybe she could’ve, I don’t care. It’s way too late now.”

A low whistle escapes past your lips. You swirl the beer bottle loosely in your grip. “I see…”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you, scoffing. “You’re pretty shit at comforting words, y’know that?”

“Harsh,” you look at him quizzically, shoving the beer bottle into his hands. He accepts it immediately. “What do you want me to say, Seb?” 

“Nothing,” he smirks, downing a generous gulp of beer, the bottle is a little less than half full now. “‘m just teasing. Don’t gimme that look. I didn’t want comfort anyway, I’ve had enough of that. I want you to tell me the stone cold truth.”

“Promise not to get pissed off?”

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth, then smiles. “Depends on what you say.”

“Wow, guess I’ll have to lie.” you joke.

“Hey—”

“Kidding.” You laugh softly at his pinched expression. His eyes narrowed—lacking any real aggression—at you as you poke harmless fun. 

You grin, slowly turning back to the view. “You won’t find yourself there,” you say simply, taking a slow sip of beer, the smoothness of it running smoothly down your throat. “Believe me, I’d know.”

Sebastian turns to face you, irritation spelled out in every feature of his face. 

“Smartass…”

“Hey, you asked for the stone cold truth,” you lift your fingers into air quotations to emphasize your point.

“Tch. Tell me this then. If I can’t find myself there, or here in the valley. Where the hell do I go?” 

You pause, clicking the bottle with your nails idly. He’s irritated obviously. But you think more frustrated and confused than anything.

You sigh, then smile. The valley hasn’t been the kindest to its resident shut-in.

“Mid-life crisis at 24,” you tease gently, poking at his side. Sebastian shoots you a heatless glare. “Don’t worry too much Seb, your hair is gonna turn gray.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sourly. “You talk as if that isn’t the same reason you moved to the valley.”

“Hey, I gave a generous amount of my life to Joja,” you snort, shifting your feet into a better resting position. “I paid my dues over there before I found some semblance of peace here.”

“I can’t just sit around and wait my whole life.”

“Then don’t,” you reply simply. “God knows I wish I followed my dear old gramps’ footsteps sooner.”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Yep. It isn’t. It does get easier though.”

“You say it so easily.”

“Sometimes, it just is.” you reply. “Only sometimes, though.”

For all you remember, your grandfather absolutely adored the valley, though he couldn’t convince you in the height of your angsty teenage phase to do the same. You’re long past that now, life didn’t go as planned and you ended up right where your grandfather said you would be.

Funny, how fate works so mysteriously, so weirdly.

You shake that thought away, turning to Sebastian—who has the same contemplative expression as you.

He’s silent, thinking. His fingers grasping and twirling the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You never told me the story.”

“Well,” you purse your lips, handing him the bottle. He drops the drawstrings to grab it.  A wordless agreement between the two of you to share what remains of the liquid. “You n’ver asked.”

“I wanna hear it,” he says, looking at you at the corner of his glittering obsidian eyes. “please?”

“How polite,” you laugh, he lightly hits you on the back of your head with his palm. “Ouch. No need to be rough w’me, I’ll tell you.”

You clear your throat with an obnoxious ahem. “Once upon a time…”

“—C’mon farmer, stop messing around. I wanna know your story,” he interjects, and it almost sounds like a plea. “No theatrics.”

Your lips flatten into a grim line. He’s being unusually insistent on the topic. But now that you think about it, you haven’t told anyone why you moved into the farm. Not your mother, not your father, and definitely not anyone else in Pelican Town.

Sebastian may be your first, you think to yourself—innuendo unintended.

You hug your arms closer to your chest, the cool draft sliding over your skin—making you shiver. No better way to battle the uncomfortable situation with an even more uncomfortable conversation. You take a deep breath.

“I was a fresh graduate when I started working at Joja—worked my way up from customer service to marketing. Crazy, right?” you chuckle, though it sounds hollow even to you. “All the pretentious proposals I would write and those useless meetings that’d take forever. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t hate my 20 year old self for starting at Joja. 5 years down the fucking drain when I quit. Let me tell you, it’s the best decision I made in my stupid corporate slave life.”

Sebastian says nothing, he hands the bottle back to you, which you take a generous swig of. You grip the bottle tightly around its neck, the warm feeling of alcohol loosening your tongue. 

You exhale deeply through your nose. “I was in my cubicle when I just ‘bout had enough—by the way, I hate that they’re called cubicles, I felt like a number in some executive’s spreadsheets instead of a living breathing person.” all that talking and your throat itches for more of the sweet burn of alcohol—you oblige it with another weighty gulp. “Grandpa left me this letter, told lil’ old me not to open it until I really, really needed to. Now that I think of it, he knew.”

Your voice cracks by the end of it. Your tongue feels way too thick for your mouth. And your eyes blur—there seems to be twice as many stars as usual.

Sebastian stays quiet, reflective even. Though his hands have stilled, and he feels closer than he was earlier. It’s warmer, you think.

If he asks, you’ve decided you’ll blame it on the alcohol.

—

You and Sebastian talk for hours after, the bottle of beer being passed between the both of you too often. You feel a tad tipsy—having drank the lion’s share of beer. Your head lolls onto your arms as you talk about everything then nothing. 

There’s a fair moment of silence that blankets the two of you after—certainly not uncomfortable. You feel Sebastain knows the fact more than anyone. He seems to thrive in the quiet moments.

“I don’t think I’m leaving the valley any time soon, though,” he says softly, breaking the tranquil silence. 

So he’s been thinking. “Why so?”

He shrugs his shoulders, taking the final sip of beer that finishes the bottle. “Something’s makin’ it worth staying a little longer.” His eyes meet yours, albeit for a second—before he refocuses on the cliff side view. 

Ah, you understand.

Suddenly, alcohol isn’t the only thing making you feel so warm. You thank the stars for the dark, for hiding any warm pinkness in your expression. You smile, more to yourself than anything. Taking the bottle from him, brushing your fingers over his perpetually cold ones.

The bottle is lighter than it was at the beginning of the night—your shoulders too, less achy, less stiff. With all that weight off of them, you can afford to be less wound up. 

You tip the bottle over the grass, nothing but a single drop comes out. You watch it fall and drop into the grass. “Good. This something thinks you’ll come to like it even.”

Sebastian tilts his head, a tentative smile playing on his lips. “That’s presumptive.”

You shrug, smirking. “I have a sense for this type of stuff.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm. I don’t just lie for no reason. And my senses are telling me you’ll be alright.”

You hear the silent hitch of his breath, the momental widening of his eyes and the tremble in his jaw. It saddens you slightly, no one has probably reassured him of it before.

God knows you needed some while working at Joja, you’re just returning your dues to the universe—and to him.

He laughs softly, and bitterly. His fingers twitch again—for that darn cigarette. “God, I sure hope so.”

Sebastian will be just fine, you know that. And it’s about time he knew it too.

[theghostkingisdead]

dpxdc - Neglected Child AU

As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.

There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”

Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.

“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”

“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.

Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.

Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.

The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.

“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”

Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”

The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.

“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”

Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”

There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.

Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”

Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.

Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”

Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.

“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”

Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”

“Tell me.”

“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”

Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”

[heyhoeudoin]

Can I request a senku x fem reader where she goes with the group to the cave instead of magma and her and senku end up cuddling for warmth and senku is all flustered by it.

WARMTH

"Guess you can still be flustered, huh?"

pairing: senku ishigami x fem!reader

words: 2.9k

genre/s: fluff, comfort?

warning/s: she/her (sorry!), s1 ep 21-22, swearing, mention of tits

synopsis: senku never would have imagined that he'd get flustered over a simple hug (and like it a lot)

masterlist

a/n: i know it's been a year... i got busy, but better later than never! also, while rewatching this episode, i got so emotional like holy sht. the way senku got emotional in this episode just got me tearing up! i love senku so much and i miss dr stone a lot more than i thought i did (IT'S ONLY BEEN A YEAR SINCE IT ENDED LIKE?!?!)

as the group walked up to the edge of the cliff, the sun rises and the stone in suika's hand glowed bright blue shocking everyone around.

"it's blue... a gemstone," chrome says.

"why is it glowing?" suika asks looking at the rock she's holding.

"oh my god, it's scheelite!" you exclaimed as your eyes sparkled at the gem-like-stone in front of you.

senku smiled at you and exclaimed, "ten billion points for you, y/n!" he then walked forward pointing, and bending down at it. "it glows blue when exposed to ultraviolet light. reactions to ultraviolet light are especially visible right before the sun rises. in other words, only right now."

"a magic stone that glows just for this moment... " gen says with a small smile.

chrome went closer to the stone with a curious face. "i've never seen anything like it," he comments.

"me neither," senku says with sparkles in his eyes. "it's an ultra-rare gem. you guys did an incredibly good job, chrome, and suika. this stuff is used in modern filaments. atomic number seventy-four: tungsten!"

"it's the strongest metal in the universe!" you continued his thought as you kept hitting senku's shoulder in joy and excitement.

"ow~" he muttered holding his shoulder. you quickly wrapped your hands around the shoulder you kept hitting to try and soothe it while giving an apologetic look.

the next day, everyone gotten ready to make a cave expedition, and by everyone, it's just senku and chrome.

"this small chunk won't be enough, but it came down the stream in the cave. there must be tons further inside. tons of this heat-resistant treasure called tunsten," chrome says as he held up the stone.

"we only have one set of lights left," senku says holding up the said last pair of lights. "the last member of the exploration team will be... magma!" he called out making everyone shock, most especially you. "tungsten's tough as hell. we're going to need brute force to collect it. let's go cave diving. we're a trio of spelunking buddies. to the fun treasure dungeon!"

"buddies?!" magma exclaimed, shocked, and confused.

"senku, chrome, and magma?!" kohaku exclaimed.

"i've never heard of such a risky group," suika says.

"i-i-is that even safe?!" ginrou exclaimed. "he might be like, 'i'm the chief!', and attack you, or something, senku!"

"come on, let's get going—"

"objection!"

the group turned to where you stood firmly with a hand raised in the air. "what is this? a court?" gen commented.

you dropped your arm and stomped your way to senku with a pissed off expression. "you may be a genius, but you're still a dumbass." you looked down at him as you jabbed your finger into his shoulder. you spread your other arm to point at magma. "i do not trust him yet!" you exclaimed, bluntly. "which is why i'll be coming with."

senku deadpanned at you and sighs. "y/n, there's only three lights and we need magma to carry the scheelite," he stated.

you rose a brow and placed a hand on your hip. "oh? and you're saying that i can't do that," you retorted with a challenging tone.

senku's mouth snapped shut. how can he forget? you're a hundred percent the strongest here! he shakes his head. "well, it can't be helped," he says, shocking the rest. he turned to magma and told him, "you heard her. take those off."

"whaaat? that easily?!" chrome exclaimed.

senku shrugs, sticking a pinky in his ear. "i can't really stop y/n from doing what she wants. if she wants to come, let her."

"then who's going to carry the rocks?" gen asks.

"y/n will," senku answers.

"what?!" gen screamed. "i-isn't that a bit...? can y/n even handle it?" his arms waved around.

kohaku crossed her arms. "are you saying women are weak?" she looked at him pointedly.

gen furiously shook his head at her. "no no, of course not!"

"right, i never told you y/n's last name, haven't i?" senku comments as he turns over to you, who's walking over wearing the equipment.

"my full name is l/n y/n," you announced. "i am more than capable of carrying the scheelite." gen starts foaming at the mouth. however, those who aren't from the modern world, they don't understand.

"basically, y/n's family is famous for a lot of crazy things and she's stronger than anyone else here," senku explains. "now let's stop wasting time and go!"

you and senku followed chrome to the cave where he got the scheelite from where a small stream of water ended. senku dipped his fingers into it. "the water's lukewarm," he mentions with a chuckle. "we can definitely find some treasures."

the three of you ventured deeper into the caves. however, once they got to a certain part, senku immediately noticed something. "get back!" he screamed, extending his arm behind his back.

you and chrome stopped, tensing up. "what's wrong, senku?" chrome asks.

senku bent down, moving carefully, and cracked a piece of the floor. "it's mica. it's like baumkuchen." you let out an 'oooh', but chrome looked confused. "it's a rock that's brittle enough to break with your hands," he says as he tears a layer off of the one he's holding. he then looks up, shining the light in front of him. "look, they're natural pit traps."

the three of you look over to the abundance of pits. "damn," chrome lets out. "nature's traps are nasty."

"is it possible to get out of that once you fall in?" you then asked.

"yeesh, try to get back up with a rope or a ladder and it'll just cave in on ya," chrome grimance.

senku stood back up. a crack, you heard from under his foot. you leaped over and push him away. you tried to land as delicately as possible, but the ground couldn't handle it. a hole formed immediately beneath you, making you fall straight into it. you reached your hand up to try and grab the edge out of reflex. another hand reached out for yours and took hold of it. it was senku's hand... although he is having a hard time pulling you up.

"no, senku! let go! it's going to cave in under you!" you were able to scream out. true to your words, the ground beneath senku did cave in. you both fall into the pit.

"senku! y/n!"

you pulled senku closer to your body, putting an arm under his neck and legs. you quickly moved your body upright and looked down. your feet hit the ground with a thud and you bent down into a squat so that you don't crush your legs. you let out a sigh of relief as you stood back up and gently placed senku down.

"are you okay?" you asked him while removing the stuff behind your back.

senku stares at you dumbfounded. "no, no, are you okay?"

you chuckle. "i'm fine, senku. i continued the momentum, or whatever you call what i just did to prevent shattering my legs," you tell him reassuringly.

"go sit down while i try to think our way out," he says as he walks over to the wall in front of you. you did what he said and sat down, your eyes never leaving him as you didn't want to miss it in case it happens. senku sometimes lets out these cute noises whenever he thinks or tries something out. to your pleasure, he's making the noises! (a/n: bro he's so cute in this scene) you let out a giggle after he slides back down from trying to climb out.

senku turns to you with a raised brow. "what're you giggling about?"

"it's just... you're adorable," you bluntly answer him.

he blinks, then slightly smirks from the familiarity. "how long has it been since you've last called me that?"

"it's been a while that's what," you say with a smile. just then a stream of water flowed down into the cave. you and senku looked up to see chrome peering down, holding a glass bottle.

"chrome, what are you doing?" you ask with furrowed brows.

"if i keep pouring in water from the pond that's nearby, you might be able to swim back out," he explained.

that caught you off guard. you turned to senku and asked, "will that work?"

he starts cackling and from that alone, you already got your answer. "hang on, that's not bad," he says, then raised a finger in front of his face. you perked up, smiling with glee as you listened to senku's calculations tangent. you love it whenever he says his calculations out loud, and he does it with his pointer finger raised in front of him as well! it's adorable... and insanely attractive.

senku lowered his finger and lets out a laugh. he looked up at chrome and shouts out, "chrome, i'm going to tell you how to craft something. can you do it?"

"yeah, of course i can." chrome nods. "don't underestimate chrome the science user!"

after you tossed the bag with the big glass bottles, you waited patiently as you listened to senku instructing chrome on what to do. shortly after, pillars of water starts flowing down into the pit. "huh? how is the water going from low to high?" you and senku heard chrome ask out loud. you giggled as senku explained to chrome what a siphon is.

you looked to see the water slowly, but surely rising from the floor. your feet being already submerged into it. then your gaze went to senku, who's looking up. "are you sure you won't freeze before we could get up there?" you asked with a hand on your hip.

senku turned to you, still looking up. "i did the calculations. it should be fine before we get hypothermia," he says.

you rose a knowing brow. "that's for a normal person, senku, and you're not a normal person." by this time the water is already about half way at senku's body (you're taller than him so it's not really half way at your body yet).

senku stuck his pinky into his ear, shrugging. "it'll be fine," he says.

it was not fine.

the water's only at half way of the pit, but senku's already shaking and chattering from the cold. you slowly floated your way to senku and wrapped your hands around him. this shocked senku, jolting a bit from the sudden touch. "what are you doing?" he managed to ask.

"here, the tits will keep you warm."

senku gapped at you. why are you so goddamn blunt? because of his shock, he missed the part where you gently placed his head on your chest and guided his arms to wrap around your back. "well, aren't you red?" you say with a teasing smirk which brought him back to reality.

"huh?" senku felt flustered and embarrassed. he tried to push himself away from you, but with his strength versus yours... yeah it didn't work. "stop that!" you scolded him. "be glad that it isn't magma who's cuddling with you right now."

senku grimaced at the thought. "don't even mention that!" he exclaimed, looking up at you, making you chuckle. in the midst of your chuckle, he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer to his body.

"well aren't you bold?"

he looked away, avoiding eye contact and letting his head rest on your chest. "i am doing this for the sake of getting warmth so that we both don't die of hypothermia," he says.

you rolled your eyes. "oh please, just admit you're liking this much more than you thought you did," you teased him.

his ears tipped red as he stayed silent.

you watched senku and chrome fanboying at the treasure cove of rocks with a smirk. a chuckle left your mouth, but the mood quickly died down as you pressed your lips together. "are you guys done yet? the sun's going to set soon and we should go!"

"ohhh come on! just a little bit longer," chrome whined.

"yeah, after all, we found a mountain of treasure," senku added.

you hooked your hands on the back of the boys' shirt and lifted them up. "when i say let's go, let's go."

the three of you exited the cave and the sun's already setting. "hurry up," you say as you picked the bag senku's carrying and hugged it against your chest. senku looked at you with protest, but you merely rose a brow at him which caused him to back down.

"why are you suddenly in a hurry?" chrome asked, looking slightly confused.

"you'll see."

once the three of you drew closer to the village, you dropped the bag in front of you took and out your makeshift blindfold. "senku dear~ could you wear this for me real quick?" you asked as he turned around.

he rose a questioning brow at you. "and for what y/n?" he asked. but you ignored his question and covered senku's eyes. you picked him up and threw him over your shoulder like a sack. "y/n? y/n?!" you picked up the bag up from the floor and happily jogged back your way to the village while humming.

chrome blinked then ran after the two of you. "what are you doing, y/n?!"

senku now stood in a room, blindfolded and hands tied. he knows that that's your hand on the back of his neck which means you're standing directly behind him.

"hey, senku-chan~ welcome home," gen says in front of senku, but he doesn't know that.

"huh? what's going on?" senku asks with an unwavering tone.

"hah!" kohaku triumphantly laughs. "don't bother trying to call for help, senku. we're all working with gen," she announced.

senku chuckles. "so you bastards finally figured out the hack, huh?" he says. "all you need to do is hand science and my head over to tsukasa, and the village is safe. it's perfectly logical." you could feel him trembling with nervousness. "...leave y/n out of this," he muttered to which only you heard.

gen lets out a short snort. "well, i have no idea what you're talking about, but..." he gave you a nod. you untied his hands and slowly took off his blindfolds.

senku stared in front of him, eyes swirling with nostalgia. you stared at him with a fond smile. it's been a while since you've seen him that emotional. he stepped towards the telescope and peered into it. he took a step back in awe. "an astronomy telescope... or rather, an observatory..." his voice gotten softer by the end. you blinked, trying to get rid of the tears that threatened to fall.

kaseki lets out an excited laugh. "january forth; rock day!" he exclaimed.

kohaku stepped up with a wide smile. "y/n told us it's your birthday today, senku!" she said.

"we all got you a birthday gift!" suika happily announced. senku walked closer to the window to see mostly everyone from the village standing outside.

"y/n told us everything we needed in order to make the telescope, and the whole village worked hard to make the observatory. you're going to have to fine-tune it yourself, senku-chan," gen explained.

ginro approached senku with a smug look. "are senku~ are you moved for the first time in forever? you can cry, you know. you don't need to hold it in," he teased.

"you're so low, ginro," kinro commented.

senku turned to the group with a smirk. "good job, everyone! this is extremely practical. we can use it as our own watchtower against tsukasa," he mentions with a wide cheeky smile.

"y-yeah, that's true," kohaku replies, not sure what to make of his reaction.

"your feedback's as rational as ever," gen comments.

"a guy doesn't bother mentioning his own birthday, and yet..." senku glanced at you. you gave him a smirk and a smug wave. a chuckle escapes his mouth.

"actually, i found out on my own even before y/n said anything," gen corrected to which senku immediately understood and the two conversed on how gen found out.

a while later, it's only you and senku left in the observatory. "did you really think i'd let them hand over your head to tsukasa?" you rhetorically asked. "and also, i can't believe that's the first thing you thought of. do you not have faith in them? you healed their priestess."

senku didn't reply as he stayed silent, looking up at the stars. you sighed as you walked over and hugged him from behind. "are you mad at me for giving away your birthday?" you softly asked. "well, i wasn't planning on giving it away, but gen approached me for a birthday gift idea and... this happened."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n." he rolled his eyes. "it's just..."

your hold on him tightened. "it's fine. i know. you don't have to say anything," you tell him.

senku turned around and wrapped his arms around you, laying his head on your chest. you felt yourself warm up a bit and held him closer. "so i am right." senku lifted his head up to look at you with confusion. "that you're liking this much more than you thought you did," you explained with a smug smirk.

he turned his head away, avoiding eye contact as he stayed silent and his ears tipped red.

masterlist a/n: this turned out way better than i thought it would.

[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

okay so heres my ideal byler confession:

so mileven breaks up in either episode one or two either is fine by me pacing wise

throughout episodes 1-4 imma need the flirting and gay longing to hit a fever pitch. not too much but enough for me to be holding my breath before jonathan fucking interrupts again. i need moments where im on the edge of my seat thinking "this is it" just for something to interrupt. i need the tension to BUILD.

episode 4 imma need micheal wheeler to be vecna'd. and i need suffering. i need that electrocuted mf to DESTORY my boy. i need a vision of will byers taunting my boy relentlessly. i need all the internalized homophobia from the past 4 seasons to be visualized in a hellscape of trauma. i need my boy to give the fuck up. and i need will to be the one to pull him back from the brink. i want mike to be ready to jump off the cliff again and wills voice to be his Running up that hill that pulls him back.

and when mike survives this vecna excursion. im going to need a parallel to the lumax scene ofc.

the next episode best be pure angst and pure plot. i want avoidance galore. i want mike terrified and quaking in his fucking boots that his visions of will will be a reality.

escape from camazotz. i think this will be it. i have two guesses

number one- some sort of big battle or event or something. possibly churchgate? or something of the like. dramatic kiss confession. aka were about to die so fuck it lets kiss.

OR

number two- some sort of fight. rain fight parallel. will is pissed that mikes been avoiding him and how mike said theyd be a team now. and hes also super worried bc bro just got vecnad. fighting ensures, lots of deflection but in the end we have the classic "because im in love with you moment" from mike. or something of the like. i feel like hed shout something along the lines of "i think i might be in love with you" first and then after a second of silence hed say quieter "im in love with you" cue dramatic kiss. will tells him he loves him back. however smth is happening and they dont have time to really discuss anything further and thats that. for now

im not sure which i want more

after this we defeat vecna and throughout all of this we have some tender byler moments. possibly a few more kisses but nothing major.

a few weeks after vecna is defeated will is outside on the swings of one of the schools which have been turned into a shelter during reconstruction. mike sees him and walks out. he stands there while will swings and have a some small talk. soon they lapse into silence and mike blurts out "will you go out with me" or "will you be my boyfriend" OR "can we be boyfriends" (again not sure which i prefer). Will will smile at him and say yes. making a parallel to how they met in kindergarten.

time skip to 89 we have established byler and i fully expect a drunk byler "crazy together" reference and i will die on this hill