#hope you will enjoy what I have to share before “the end”

[faebled-stories]

Wagering Emotions

Kinkvember Day 21: Free Use

GFriend/VIVIZ Eunha (Jung Eunbi) x Male reader

AN: Hi guys! Are you proud of me? This girlie is finally leaving the house for something besides school! 😅 I started this fic right after yesterdays since I knew I had limited time today. Even so It's a bit of a long one, so I hope you're comfy and enjoy! 💖

“Oh, God—harder! Yes, right there!” The sultry cry was followed by a series of sharp, breathless moans that reverberated off the thin apartment walls. “Ugh, you’re so deep in me—don’t stop!” The woman’s voice dripped with exaggerated pleasure, her words climbing louder with each gasp. The rhythmic creaks of a bed frame added to the cacophony, creating a soundscape that was impossible to ignore.

Eunha clenched her pillow over her ears, but it was no use. The noises seemed to seep through the fabric, crawling under her skin like a relentless itch. Each gasp and moan hit her with jarring sharpness, as if mocking her failed attempts at peace. The bedframe’s incessant squeaks provided a rhythm to the chaos, an unrelenting reminder of what was happening mere feet away. She sat rigid on her bed, her teeth gritted so tightly her jaw ached. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from embarrassment but from pure, boiling frustration.

The moans built higher and higher, peaking with a sharp, guttural scream. “Ohhh—yes!” The sound stretched out, lingering in the air as the bedframe gave one final, forceful creak before silence fell.

The stillness that followed should have been a reprieve, but it wasn’t. It only magnified the absurdity of the situation, the weight of her irritation pressing down on her chest. She let the pillow fall from her hands, her gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling as her breath came in uneven bursts. The faint scent of lavender from her diffuser drifted through the room, its calming intention now nothing but a cruel joke.

This was her sanctuary—her home. Or at least, it was supposed to be. Instead, it felt like she was the intruder, an unwelcome guest in her own space.

It wasn’t just the frequency of these escapades, though they had escalated to near-nightly rituals. It was the complete disregard—the audacity to treat their shared apartment like a personal playground, to push her patience to the breaking point without so much as an acknowledgment.

With a sharp inhale, Eunha swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool wood flooring grounding her as her frustration surged. She shoved herself into her oversized hoodie, the fabric heavy against her skin, and stormed toward the hallway. Each step was deliberate, her bare feet making soft, muted thuds on the worn hardwood. The flickering bathroom light at the far end of the hall cast erratic shadows on the walls, making the narrow space feel both claustrophobic and foreboding. The air was heavy, thick with a lingering warmth that seemed to seep through the apartment from your room.

As she reached the hallway, the muffled murmur of voices caught her ear. A giggle—soft and self-satisfied—floated through the stillness, followed by the unmistakable sound of your door creaking open. Eunha froze, just for a moment, letting her anger sharpen as her gaze fixed on the corner where the hallway turned.

When you appeared, the sight of you leaning casually against the doorframe was almost enough to send her over the edge. The lazy smirk curling at your lips, the easy, unbothered confidence in your posture—it was infuriating. But it wasn’t just you. Draped against your arm, looking equally disheveled, was Umji— one of her closest friends.

Eunha’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto her. No. No way.

Umji’s hair was a tangled mess, loose strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her makeup was smudged, faint streaks of mascara trailing under her eyes, which darted away as soon as they met Eunha’s. A collection of red marks decorated her neck in uneven patterns, stark against her pale skin. Her lips, swollen and trembling slightly, glistened faintly as though they’d just come up for air. The hem of her mini-dress hung unevenly, the fabric wrinkled and askew as though hastily pulled back into place. Most noticeable, though, were her legs—wobbly, hesitant steps that made the sound of her heels on the hardwood uneven. She clutched your arm for support, her fingers curling into your sleeve like a lifeline.

“Hey!” Eunha’s voice sliced through the stillness, sharp and unyielding. The sound echoed down the hallway, and both you and Umji froze.

You turned slowly, clearly unhurried, the smirk on your face deepening as your gaze met Eunha’s. “Something on your mind, Eunha?” you asked, your voice a drawl of mockery. The lazy tone only fanned the flames of her irritation.

But Eunha barely registered you. Her focus was locked on Umji, who flinched under the weight of her glare. Her posture shifted awkwardly, her hands fluttering uselessly at the hem of her dress, as though she could somehow straighten out what had already been done. Her cheeks were flushed a deeper red now, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. Her gaze darted back to the floor.

Eunha’s fists tightened at her sides as she took a step closer, her pulse pounding in her ears. The hallway felt oppressively small now, the dim light casting jagged shadows across the walls and your smug face. The faint scent of Umji’s floral perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the unmistakable musk of sweat, creating a cloying atmosphere that made Eunha’s stomach churn.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eunha finally said, her voice low and trembling with fury. Her words were directed at Umji, whose trembling hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

“Eunha, I—” Umji began, her voice cracking as she looked up, her tearful gaze locking with Eunha’s.

“You what?” Eunha snapped, taking another step closer. “You knew. You knew how much I’ve complained about him—how much he’s driven me insane. Hell, I spent hours venting to you, and you always agreed with me. Told me I was right to hate him. And now you’re just… this?”

“It’s not like that,” Umji said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her shoulders curled inward as though she were trying to make herself smaller. “I didn’t plan—”

“Didn’t plan it?” Eunha interrupted, her voice rising. “That’s all you’ve got? You didn’t plan to hook up with him? Do you realize how screwed up this is?” Her voice wavered, her anger laced with hurt that she couldn’t quite hide.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Umji pleaded, her lips trembling as fresh tears filled her eyes. “It was—it was stupid, okay? I made a mistake.”

Eunha let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “A mistake? That’s what this is to you? A mistake?” Her voice cracked as she gestured at the red marks on Umji’s neck, the uneven dress straps, the swollen lips that spoke of the hours Eunha had unwillingly endured through the walls. “You’ve seen how much he’s made my life hell, and now you’re just another name to add to his list.”

“I know I messed up,” Umji whispered, her tears spilling over now, streaking her smudged mascara further. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

Eunha shook her head, her chest heaving as she fought the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She turned her glare to you, standing there with that smug, satisfied smirk plastered across your face like this was all some kind of twisted joke. “And you,” she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. “You’re disgusting.”

You shrugged, your smile deepening as you raised your hands in mock innocence. “Hey, don’t blame me for what she wanted.”

The casualness of your response nearly made Eunha snap. Her nails dug into her palms, but she forced herself to take a deep breath, swallowing the venom that threatened to spill over.

“Unbelievable,” Eunha muttered, turning her attention back to Umji. Her voice dropped, quieter now but no less sharp, each word laced with the sting of betrayal. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Umji opened her mouth, her lips trembling as though she wanted to explain, to apologize, but Eunha didn’t wait to hear it. She spun on her heel, her steps echoing sharply down the hallway as she stormed toward her room. The flickering light overhead illuminated the unshed tears brimming in her eyes, though the heat of her anger kept them from falling. The ache in her chest twisted deeper with every step, but she didn’t dare let it show.

At the threshold of her room, she paused, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the doorframe. She turned, her glare icy and unwavering as it locked onto you. Her voice was curt, sharp enough to cut through the suffocating tension. Enough was enough.

“Look, we need to talk. Now.”

You sighed, the sound heavy with reluctant amusement. “I’ll text you later, okay?” you said smoothly, glancing at Umji as though she wasn’t Eunha’s closest friend, but just another girl in a long string of conquests. Your words carried a deliberate nonchalance, almost as if you’d chosen them specifically to twist the knife deeper.

Umji hesitated, her nervous giggle betraying her unease as she glanced between the two of you. Her hands fluttered to smooth her rumpled dress, but the fabric clung stubbornly to her curves, refusing to cooperate. Her face was still flushed, her tears still wet, and she seemed to shrink under Eunha’s glare. With a small, almost inaudible “sorry,” she wobbled toward the door on unsteady legs, her heels clicking softly against the floor. The sound seemed to echo in the tense silence as the door clicked shut behind her.

The apartment fell into an oppressive quiet, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Your demeanor shifted slightly, the amused smirk on your lips fading into something more guarded. You leaned casually against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest as you regarded Eunha with a faintly raised eyebrow. “What’s this about?”

Eunha didn’t ease into it. Her voice, trembling with hurt and fury, spilled out before she could stop herself. “You know exactly what this is about.  Maybe I could’ve lived with the random girls. Maybe I could’ve dealt with it. But Umji? My best friend? You knew who she was to me, and you still went ahead and—” She choked on the word, her hands trembling as she gestured toward the now-empty hallway. “You went ahead and made her just another body. Another notch on your bedpost. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

Your expression didn’t change, but your gaze flickered, just for a moment, something unreadable passing across your face. “It’s not like I forced her into anything,” you replied, your tone calm, detached. “She wanted it. That’s on her, not me.”

Eunha stared at you, stunned into silence for a heartbeat before her anger reignited, hotter and sharper than before. “Are you serious right now? She wanted it? She’s my best friend! She’s not just some random girl you can screw and forget about. She’s—” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “She’s supposed to matter.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, your voice maddeningly calm. “It happened. It’s done. Are you mad at me for having fun, or at her for making a choice?”

“Both!” Eunha shouted, her voice echoing through the apartment. “But you—you knew better. You knew exactly what this would do to me, and you did it anyway. Like you didn’t care. Like I don’t matter at all.”

Her chest heaved, her glare blazing with all the hurt she hadn’t yet put into words. Her hands shook as she tried to hold herself together, her nails digging into her palms.

“I’m sick of this,” Eunha snapped after a moment, her tone trembling with barely-contained anger. “Every night, it’s some random girl, and I have to hear everything. I live here too, you know.”

You shrugged, your tone light and dismissive. “Can’t help it if they get loud.”

Her jaw dropped, disbelief flashing across her face before anger surged in to replace it. “Oh, please,” she hissed, her cheeks flushing crimson. “Those moans? They’re all fake, and you know it. You’re not that good.”

The familiar smile crept back onto your face, a gleam of amusement dancing in your eyes. You leaned forward slightly, the air between you growing heavy. “Jealous, are we?”

Eunha stiffened, narrowing her eyes as the heat in her face climbed. “Jealous? Of those bimbos you bring home? Hardly.”

Your smirk widened as you took a half-step closer, closing the already narrowing space between you. “Sounds like jealousy to me. Otherwise, why would you care so much about what happens in my room?”

Eunha’s eyes blazed, “Because it’s my apartment too!” Her voice rose, conviction lacing every word. “I have the right to set some ground rules here. This is supposed to be a home, not a dating service. We need to set some ground rules.”

The tension between you hung thick in the air, almost tangible. The faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen seemed deafening in the charged silence that followed. Your gazes locked, a silent battle of wills playing out in the dimly lit hallway. This wasn’t just about noise anymore; it was about respect, boundaries, and the collision of two people whose lives were incompatible in ways neither was willing to admit.

“Ground rules, huh?” you said finally, your voice low, almost teasing. Your arms remained crossed, but the mischievous sparkle in your eyes returned. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you suggest, then?”

Eunha hesitated, her frustration bubbling to the surface in an exasperated huff. “You can’t bring anyone home anymore.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment, before letting out a bark of laughter that echoed off the walls. “What? You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Eunha replied, her tone firm, her arms crossed tightly in defiance.

You shook your head, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. “That’s not going to happen. I’m human; I have needs.”

“Then take them somewhere else, get a hotel room I don't care,” Eunha shot back, her voice steady but laced with challenge.

You tilted your head slightly, studying her with a curious intensity. The tension between you seemed to thrum louder, like a taut string about to snap. Slowly, a wicked grin spread across your face, your eyes lighting up with an idea.

“How about we make things interesting?” you said, your tone dripping with intrigue.

Eunha’s frown deepened, suspicion coloring her features. “How so?”

“A bet.”

“A bet?” she repeated, her tone steeped in skepticism. Her arms remained folded, her glare unwavering. 

Your grin widened, a wicked gleam dancing in your eyes. “Yeah. Since you think they’re all faking it, how about this—we both go down on each other, and the first one to make the other cum wins.”

Eunha blinked, momentarily taken aback. The air in the hallway seemed to thicken, her breath hitching in her throat as the weight of your audacious proposition settled between you. “You’ve got to be joking,” she said, her voice steady but laced with disbelief.

You shrugged nonchalantly, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background punctuating the charged silence. “You said I wasn’t that good. Prove it. If you win, I’ll stop bringing girls over entirely. But if I win…”

Eunha raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What’s in it for you?” Her voice carried a sharp edge, but there was a flicker of curiosity beneath it, almost imperceptible.

You leaned in slightly, the dim light from the overhead fixture casting a shadow across your face. Your voice dropped to a low, teasing tone, each word dripping with confidence. “You. Anytime, anyplace, for a week.”

Eunha’s breath caught, her pulse quickening as the sheer boldness of your words hit her. Heat crept up her neck, but it wasn’t just anger—it was the challenge, the audacity, the smugness in your tone that fanned the flames of her pride. There was no way you could win, not against her. She was hellbent on the fact that every moan that came out of your room was nothing but an act—girls faking it to stroke your ego because they didn’t know any better. Nothing about you screamed impressive..

“No way we are doing a week; that’s too long,” Eunha countered firmly, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. Her heart raced, but she kept her tone steady.

You were unfazed, leaning back slightly with an exaggerated shrug, as though victory was already in your grasp. “Okay, what about over the course of a week? Three sessions of use with you, same as before, any time, any place.”

Eunha’s jaw tightened as she considered your alternative, the weight of your words settling like a dare she couldn’t refuse. The light buzz of adrenaline coursing through her veins made her palms feel clammy, but she straightened her spine, meeting your gaze with fire in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’re on.”

Your grin widened, the corners of your mouth curling with triumph, as if you’d already won. “Let’s make some ground rules, then.”

The quiet apartment is suddenly alive with the undercurrent of challenge. The faint creak of the floorboards under your steps seemed louder in the silence. The terms were simple—no hands allowed, and the first one to cum would lose. It wasn’t just a game of skill, but of endurance, control, and unspoken stakes that neither of you fully acknowledged.

As the final terms were set, you led Eunha to your room—a space she’d passed by countless times, now feeling alien and charged with a dangerous intimacy. The air hit her first, thick with the unmistakable scent of musk and lingering arousal. The faint trace of Umji’s floral perfume mingled with something far more primal, twisting in Eunha’s stomach like a knot. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t ignore it—the room still carried her best friend’s presence, an unwelcome ghost that clung to the atmosphere and prickled at Eunha’s skin.

She steeled herself, pushing aside the pang of discomfort. She wasn’t here to wallow or falter. She was here to win. Today, this was her game.

The door clicked shut behind, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the still room. You wasted no time, your movements deliberate as you peeled off your shirt with casual confidence, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting sharp shadows across your skin. Anticipation danced in your dark eyes, glinting with amusement as they traced her figure.

Eunha swallowed hard, a swell of nerves rising in her chest as she met your gaze. But she refused to falter. She reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head with a decisive motion, baring herself piece by piece until she stood completely exposed before you—naked and unflinching. The cool air of the room kissed her skin, raising goosebumps that she refused to acknowledge. Her chin tilted up defiantly, her resolve unshaken.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you gestured toward the bed, your lips curling into a smirk. “Ladies first?” you quipped, your voice dripping with amusement.

Eunha shot you a fierce glare, her jaw tightening as she fought the urge to fire back with something sharper. Instead, she climbed onto the bed, her movements purposeful and precise. But the moment her knees hit the mattress, a wave of discomfort washed over her. The dampness beneath her palms was unmistakable, the sheets faintly musky from Umji’s earlier release. A surge of anger flared in her chest, tightening her throat. Her best friend’s ghost clung to this space—this bed—turning what should have been just another challenge into something deeply personal.

You followed her onto the bed, your movements deliberate and unhurried, as if you had all the time in the world. You reached out, hands brushing against her hips as you guided her to straddle you. Her legs trembled slightly as she adjusted, the heat of your hands sending a jolt through her body that she stubbornly ignored. You leaned back, your smirk deepening as you settled into the mattress, entirely at ease. The flicker of amusement in your eyes burned against Eunha’s pride, daring her to falter, daring her to lose.

Her breath quickened, her pulse hammering in her ears as she hovered over you. The room seemed to shrink, the space between your bodies charged with a tension that felt almost electric. The scent of musk, sweat, and lingering arousal swirled around them, thick and inescapable, amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

For the first time, as her gaze flickered downward, she noticed something she’d never truly paid attention to before—your length, larger than she had cared to admit. The sheer size of you made her stomach flip, a wave of heat rushing through her so suddenly that it took her breath away. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, as if to stave off the reaction, but the faint ache building within her betrayed her efforts.

Her eyes lingered for a moment too long, tracing the prominent veins and the way you moved with an air of ease that only added to the magnetic pull you exuded. The sight was overwhelming, a reminder of your control, and it sent her mind spinning with thoughts she wasn’t ready to face.

A faint flush crept up her neck, her skin burning with a mixture of embarrassment and something she couldn’t quite name. She swallowed hard, forcing her expression to remain neutral as she tore her gaze away, her heart pounding in her chest. Determination flickered in her eyes as she tried to bury the reaction deep inside her, willing herself to focus on anything else.

This wasn’t about distractions or nerves; this was about her pride. Her chance to make you crumble as so many others before you had. She wasn’t just playing your game; she was going to win it.

As she leaned closer, the warmth of your skin radiated against hers, the proximity amplifying every sensation. The mattress shifted beneath you both, the springs groaning softly as the challenge truly began.

She began her assault slowly, her tongue tracing along your length, savoring the way you twitched beneath her touch. A smirk curled her lips as she realized you were already responding—a thrill of satisfaction coursed through her. He’s already losing, she thought, emboldened by the spark of confidence igniting within her.

Yet, the tables turned as your hands gripped her hips, pulling her down toward your waiting mouth with a deliberate, unyielding strength. The unexpected forwardness startled her, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Your tongue found her folds, teasingly exploring her with excruciating slowness. The touch sent shivers radiating through her core, making her body tense involuntarily.

Stay focused, she reminded herself, though the heat building inside her made it harder to concentrate. She picked up her pace, taking you deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue with precision. Each low groan that escaped your lips reverberated through her, sending jolts of satisfaction surging through her. She poured every ounce of her determination into conditioning your reactions, her confidence surging with every twitch, every shallow breath you took.

She sensed her victory was close—your breath quickened, and she could feel you throbbing against her tongue. A few more moments, and she’d have you. She could almost taste the win.

But then, without warning, you shifted, your tongue pressing against a hidden, sensitive spot deep within her. The sudden, sharp jolt of pleasure ripped through her, a sensation so intense it stole her breath. A startled gasp escaped her lips before she could stifle it. And then you followed it up, your mouth latching onto her clit, sucking and teasing with just enough pressure to send her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. Each flick of your tongue and gentle graze of your teeth seemed designed to dismantle her resolve, targeting every weakness she didn’t know she had.

Her body trembled, betraying her will as waves of ecstasy built within her, each one cresting higher than the last. She struggled to focus, to push forward and finish what she started, but it was no use. You were relentless, and her body was betraying her. Every stroke of your tongue felt impossibly perfect, a symphony of sensations that left her teetering on the edge.

And then it hit her.

The orgasm crashed over her like a thunderclap, a shockwave of pleasure so sudden and intense it left her reeling. It wasn’t just unexpected—it was overwhelming. Her breath hitched, a strangled moan escaping her lips as her entire body bowed against her will. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt, a climax so raw and consuming it rivaled her best and obliterated any sense of control she thought she had. Her thighs clamped reflexively around your head, trembling with the force of the pleasure wracking her body. She couldn’t stop herself—the sensation was too much, too all-encompassing to resist.

As the waves of ecstasy reached their peak, you thrust slightly deeper into her mouth, her lips stretched around you as she choked softly on your length. The sensation of being taken so completely sent a fresh jolt of pleasure surging through her, intensifying her climax beyond what she thought was possible. Her body shuddered violently, her muscles tightening as her cries became muffled, the act heightening the overwhelming rush of release.

Every nerve in her body felt electrified, every inch of her skin hypersensitive to the slightest touch. Her heartbeat pounded furiously in her chest, each thrum echoing like a drumbeat in the heavy silence of the room. The way you filled her, the weight of your presence pressing her further into surrender, only amplified the depth of her response, dragging her into a state of pure, unrelenting bliss.

The waves of pleasure seemed endless, each pulse pulling her deeper into the abyss. Her mind blurred, the edges of thought dissolving into a haze of sensation that left her powerless, her breaths coming in shallow, desperate gasps. Time stretched and warped, the peak of ecstasy feeling like an eternity as it consumed her completely.

When the tremors finally subsided, she collapsed against the mattress, her body limp and her mind clouded with disbelief. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her limbs heavy as if weighed down by the aftershocks of her release. The room felt distant, blurred by the haze of ecstasy still humming through her body.

Her lips remained around you, the weight of you resting on her tongue unnoticed at first as her mind buzzed with the intensity of what she had just experienced. Slowly, instinctively, her tongue began to move, tracing along your length in lazy, absent circles. It was almost reflexive, her body responding without thought, as if it craved the connection even as her mind struggled to process the reality of it all.

For a moment, she was lost in the act, her senses dulled and her body still pulsing with residual pleasure. But as clarity returned, the realization struck her like a cold wave. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as her senses snapped back into focus, and she quickly pulled back, her lips parting as she released you.

Her heart pounded as she shifted away, her hands trembling as she tried to gather herself. How could this have happened? The thought lingered, sharp and insistent, as she struggled to reconcile the overwhelming pleasure with the reality that it had been your tongue—and her own instincts—that unraveled her so completely.

Eunha’s frustration boiled as you chuckled beneath her, your low, smug laughter sending waves of embarrassment coursing through her. Pulling back, you rose to a sitting position, your dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Looks like I won,” you said, your voice dripping with self-assured confidence.

A mix of humiliation and indignation simmered in her chest. “No! You… you cheated!” she blurted, scrambling off you in a frantic attempt to reclaim some semblance of dignity. Her movements were hurried and awkward, betraying her flustered state as she tugged at the rumpled sheets to cover herself.

You arched an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curling into a smirk that only deepened her frustration. “Cheated?” you repeated, your tone light, teasing. “Sounds like a sore loser to me.”

Eunha’s jaw tightened as she glared at you, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You… did something! I don’t know what, but there’s no way! That wasn’t—it doesn’t count!” Her voice wavered as she scrambled for excuses, her mind racing to rewrite what had just happened. “I didn’t even cum—so you didn’t win,” she mumbled, her words tumbling out in a desperate attempt to shift the narrative, even as her own body betrayed her.

Your smirk widened, and you leaned forward, the playful glint in your eyes sparking a fresh wave of heat in her cheeks. “Didn’t cum, huh?” you asked, your voice low and taunting, the kind of tone that made her heart pound in equal parts irritation and something else she refused to name.

Before she could retort, you moved swiftly. Your fingers brushed against her slick folds, gathering the unmistakable evidence of her release. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat as her body jolted at the unexpected touch. You brought your fingers to your lips, savoring the taste with a deliberate, slow flick of your tongue.

Then, closing the distance between you, you captured her lips in a searing kiss, your hands firm against her waist. The taste of herself lingered on your lips, undeniable proof of what had just transpired. “Doesn’t it taste just like cum?” you teased, your words a whispered challenge against her lips.

Eunha froze, her mind spinning as the truth crashed down on her. The heat of your mouth, the unmistakable taste, the trembling in her thighs—there was no denying it. She had climaxed, and you had won.

But she wasn’t ready to admit it.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” she snapped, her voice sharp, though it wavered slightly at the edges. She pulled back, her hands trembling as she gestured wildly, trying to regain control of the situation. “You… you probably did something weird—something dirty! I wasn’t even ready! It’s not fair!” Her excuses came out in a rush, desperate and unconvincing even to her own ears.

Your chuckle deepened, rich and mocking, as you watched her unravel. “Face it, Eunha,” you said, your tone dripping with amusement. “I won, fair and square.”

Without any more options, she stumbled to her feet, her movements hurried and frantic as she reached for her discarded clothes. “Whatever,” she muttered, her voice thick with humiliation as she avoided your gaze. “This was a stupid bet anyway.”

But before she could make her escape, a sharp smack echoed through the room as your hand connected playfully with her rear. The stinging heat made her yelp, and she spun around, glaring at you with wide, furious eyes. Her face burned crimson, the mixture of anger and lingering embarrassment practically radiating off her.

“Deal’s a deal,” you said, your voice low and teasing, the grin on your face infuriatingly smug. “I’ll be collecting my prize soon.”

Eunha’s heart pounded, your words settling deep in her chest and sending a strange, unsettling mix of dread and anticipation coursing through her. She couldn’t bring herself to respond, her mouth opening and closing uselessly as she scrambled for a comeback that refused to come.

Without another word, she stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing sharply down the hallway. The slam of her door reverberated through the apartment, a sharp punctuation to the moment. Alone in her room, Eunha pressed her back against the door, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her emotions swirled in chaotic waves—anger, embarrassment, and something she refused to name.

-----

The next day, the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Eunha's room, casting delicate golden patterns that danced across the floorboards like restless shadows. The warmth of daylight touched her skin, but it did little to temper the knot of discomfort and anticipation twisting in her stomach. She lay face down on her bed, her laptop propped in front of her, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She typed half-heartedly, forcing herself to focus on the screen. Yet, the weight of your presence in the room made it impossible.

Your quiet breathing behind her felt louder than it should, filling the air with a tension she couldn’t escape. She bit her lip, her body prickling with awareness against her will. This was her sanctuary, her room. A place where she was supposed to feel safe and in control. Yet now, under your gaze, it felt different. Oppressive. Confusing. The line between intrusion and something else entirely blurred in ways she wasn’t ready to face.

“Ready for your first session?” Your voice, low and deliberate, broke through the quiet. The words cut through her thoughts, making her body tense instinctively. She froze, her breath catching, unsure whether it was defiance or dread keeping her silent.  

The bed dipped under your weight, and suddenly, you were there, behind her. She stiffened as your hands brushed over her hips, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. The soft rustle of fabric was deafening in the quiet room. 

She wanted to protest, to tell you she wasn’t enjoying this, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, her breath hitched as your fingers trailed lightly over the curve of her back. Your touch sent tingles racing across her skin, her body responding even as her mind recoiled. It wasn’t fair. She hated how her body betrayed her, how it melted under your hands like it had been waiting for this.

You started slowly, your lips brushing featherlight kisses along her shoulders. She clenched her fists, burying her face into the pillow as you worked your way lower. Each kiss left a trail of heat in its wake, your mouth moving with maddening patience down the length of her back. When your teeth grazed her skin, she let out a muffled gasp, her body jerking slightly before settling back into place.

Eunha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sensations overwhelming her. I can't believe this is happening, she thought desperately, her cheeks burning as your lips pressed against the small of her back. She wanted to hate it, hate you, but the way her body responded made it impossible to ignore. Each touch, each teasing bite, only deepened the confusion swirling inside her.

When your lips brushed against the curve of her plump cheeks, she trembled. Her skin tingled as you lingered, planting slow, deliberate kisses before giving a playful nip that sent a jolt through her. She buried her face deeper into the pillow, her breath ragged, her resolve crumbling.

“You’re already reacting so much,” you teased, your voice soft but smug. “I haven’t even touched you.”

Her heart raced at your words, embarrassment and arousal mingling in a way that made her stomach twist. She hated how much she wanted you to keep going, how her body leaned into your touch even as her mind screamed at her to pull away.

Your hands slid down her thighs, coaxing them apart as your fingers finally brushed over her folds. She gasped, the heat pooling in her core undeniable. Why does this feel so good? she thought, biting her lip as you teased her, never quite giving her what she wanted.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone laced with amusement. “Soaking through your sheets, just like your friend.”

Her body trembled as your fingers continued their slow, agonizing exploration. Her breath hitched when you finally slid her shorts down, exposing her fully. She felt vulnerable, raw, and yet… exhilarated.

You gripped her hips, lifting them slightly so her chest remained pressed to the bed. Her back arched naturally, and her cheeks flushed with heat as you adjusted her position, leaving her most sensitive areas exposed. The vulnerability made her heart race, her breath catching in her throat as she felt your presence so close behind her.

Your hands moved deliberately, spreading her cheeks wide. The cool air of the room kissed her exposed skin, making her shiver as the contrast of warmth and chill heightened her awareness. Her breath hitched when she felt the faintest, deliberate puff of air against her sex. The sensation sent a jolt through her, her body clenching instinctively as a soft whimper escaped her lips. Her folds quivered under the sensation, and even the tight ring behind them pulsed faintly in response, betraying her heightened sensitivity.

You chuckled softly, watching as her body reacted under your control. “So sensitive,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. The way her body responded to even the gentlest stimulation was intoxicating. Leaning closer, you let your breath wash over her again, this time more deliberate, the warm puff grazing her slick skin.

The tremble of her folds deepened, her body betraying her completely as the light air teased her again. Her tight ring pulsated under your gaze, the reaction mesmerizing as you held her there, savoring every flicker of her submission. You’re so sexy,” you said softly, your tone filled with admiration. “Your body loves every second of this.”

She whimpered again, burying her face into the mattress as the sensations overwhelmed her. The deliberate teasing left her trembling, her body attuned to every movement, every breath. You watched her, enthralled by the way she surrendered to the moment, her reactions igniting a fire that neither of you could resist.

When your tongue flicked out, finally meeting her folds, she let out a muffled cry, the pillow swallowing her voice. The first touch stole what little resolve she had left, her hips jerking slightly before your firm grip steadied her in place. The heat of your mouth and the coolness lingering from the air created a dizzying contrast that left her gasping.

As your tongue delved deeper, teasing her sensitive nub, her entire body jolted with the intensity of the sensation. You alternated between soft, teasing licks and firm strokes, your hands gripping her hips tightly to keep her exactly where you wanted her. Her legs trembled, her mind a whirlwind of contradictions—she hated this, hated how you were making her feel, and yet, she couldn’t get enough.

“You like this, don’t you?” you murmured between strokes, your breath warm against her slick skin. “You don’t want to admit it, but your body’s already told me everything I need to know.”

Eunha whimpered, her chest pressing harder into the mattress as she fought against the overwhelming sensations. The way you spoke, the confidence in your voice, sent shivers racing down her spine. She hated that you were right. No matter how much her mind resisted, her body had already surrendered completely.

The safety of her room, once her refuge, now felt foreign. The air was heavy, charged with arousal that clung to every surface. She couldn’t escape it—the pull of her own body responding to you, the way her most vulnerable self was laid bare for your enjoyment. It was maddening. It was exhilarating. And she couldn’t stop it.

Then, to her surprise, you added a finger. The digit entered with no resistance, sliding into her warmth effortlessly as her slickness coated you. When you curled it just right, a sharp cry tore from her lips, muffled by the pillow beneath her. Her body tightened around you, a jolt of pleasure surging through her as her hips rocked back instinctively.

The combination of your tongue, tracing deliberate strokes over her sensitive nub, and the rhythmic motion of your finger inside her sent her spiraling. Her mind became a haze, her thoughts scattering as the sensations grew overwhelming. The tension in her core tightened with every flick, every stroke, building to a crescendo she couldn’t escape.

Her body arched off the bed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that made her gasp and scream into the pillow. The sound was raw, filled with a mix of ecstasy and disbelief. Warm liquid hit your tongue as her release washed over her, her body responding with an intensity she hadn’t anticipated. It was as if her body moved entirely on its own, separate from her mind, completely out of her control.

Her legs shook violently, her thighs trembling against your face as you held her steady. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, the waves of pleasure rolling through her like an unstoppable tide. Her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her, twisting them until the once perfectly made bed was a disheveled mess. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the aftershocks left her weak and trembling.

As her body began to calm, her mind reeled from the intensity of it all. She had never experienced anything so raw, so all-consuming. It felt like her body wasn’t even hers anymore, like it had betrayed her completely. The humiliation of that realization mixed with the undeniable satisfaction thrumming through her veins, creating a cocktail of emotions that left her dizzy.

You pulled back slowly, savoring the sight of her undone beneath you. Your lips brushed one last kiss against her inner thigh, a soft, deliberate reminder of the control you held over her. “One down,” you murmured, your voice low and dripping with satisfaction.

Eunha collapsed fully against the bed, her body melting into the mattress as her limbs refused to move. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her skin flushed and slick with sweat. She buried her face into the pillow, her mind scrambling to process what had just happened. Shame flickered in the back of her thoughts, but it was drowned out by the lingering heat of her arousal.

She hated herself for how much she’d wanted it, for how completely she had surrendered to you. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push away the memory of your touch. The echo of your lips, your fingers, and the way her body had responded to you replayed in her mind like a vivid dream she couldn’t shake.

Even as she lay there, trembling and spent, a part of her was terrified by how much she craved more. She wasn’t fully yours yet—but the seed had been planted. And deep down, she knew that resisting you would only get harder from here.

-----

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m fine,” Eunha said softly, her voice light but tinged with just enough warmth to reassure her mother. She leaned back against the couch, the phone pressed firmly to her ear. Her mother’s concern was a comforting constant, a tether to the normalcy Eunha was trying desperately to cling to.

“Are you sure? You’ve sounded tired lately,” her mother said, the familiar tone of worry pulling a faint smile from Eunha despite the storm brewing within her.

“I’m just busy, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” she replied, her words practiced, as if they could steady her own wavering thoughts.

Her mother’s warm laugh filtered through the line, wrapping around her like a blanket. “You always say that. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” Eunha said, her chest tightening at the kindness in her mother’s voice. She focused on the conversation, trying to lose herself in its comfort, but the weight of your presence was impossible to ignore.

You were there, lounging beside her on the couch, your energy filling the room like a storm cloud. When her gaze flicked to you, her heart stuttered. The lazy grin on your lips, the mischievous sparkle in your eyes—it was enough to send a rush of heat coursing through her. She swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly as her mother spoke again.

“Have you been eating properly? You tend to forget when you get busy,” her mother said, concern softening her words.

“I’m eating just fine,” Eunha replied quickly, her tone betraying the distraction tugging at her. She gripped the phone tighter, forcing herself to focus on her mother’s voice even as your hand brushed lightly against her thigh.

Her body jolted at the touch, her breath hitching, though she tried to disguise it with a soft laugh. “Really, Mom, everything’s fine,” she said, the words feeling hollow as her pulse raced.

Her heart skipped a beat as your hand moved up her thigh, warm and commanding. Your fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over her skin, igniting a storm of sensations that made it nearly impossible for her to focus on her mother’s words. The phone trembled slightly in her hand as you leaned closer, your breath ghosting against her ear. “Ready for round two?” you murmured, your voice low and teasing.

Before she could process the words, you acted. With a swift, practiced motion, you pulled her into your lap, your hands firm yet gentle as they guided her into place. Her breath hitched as her body pressed against yours, her mind spinning from the sheer audacity of it all. The world outside—her mother’s voice on the line, the faint hum of the city beyond the window—faded into a muted blur as you moved with ease.

The hem of her shirt lifted in your hands, your fingers brushing her bare skin as you removed it with an insouciance that sent shivers through her. Her cheeks burned as the air touched her exposed skin, but her body betrayed her resolve.

A breathy moan escaped her lips when you shifted below her, the sound of your movements mixing with her moms voice. Her breath hitched as you reached down, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts. Her body tensed, her head turning slightly as if she wanted to see, but she stopped herself, the anticipation overwhelming. The moment was thick with tension as you freed your length, the weight and heat of it brushing against her skin briefly, sending a shiver racing up her spine.

Eunha swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the reality of what was about to happen set in. For the first time, she realized just how much she had underestimated you. Her mind raced, but her body stayed still, her breath shallow and uneven as you positioned yourself 

Eunha swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the reality of what was about to happen set in. For the first time, she realized just how much she had underestimated you. Her mind raced, but her body stayed still, her breath shallow and uneven as you positioned yourself beneath her. The weight of your hands on her hips steadied her, though the heat radiating between you only heightened her anticipation.

She hovered above you, her entrance brushing against the head of your length, and a sharp intake of breath escaped her lips. The first press of you against her made her thighs tremble slightly, the stretch unfamiliar yet electrifying. Slowly, you guided her downward, the head of your length pushing into her with deliberate, measured pressure.

Her walls tightened instinctively, gripping you as her body adjusted to your size. A gasp broke free from her lips, her head tilting back as the sensation overwhelmed her. Inch by inch, you filled her, the stretch igniting her nerves as her body accommodated the fullness. It wasn’t just the physicality—it was the sheer intensity of the moment, the raw connection that sent her senses spiraling.

Eunha bit down on her lower lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh in a desperate attempt to stifle the sounds rising in her throat. The effort was futile. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure radiating through her, the heat pooling in her core intensifying with every passing second. Her breath hitched as you bottomed out, the depth leaving her trembling in your lap.

You paused, letting her adjust, your hands firm on her hips as you held her steady. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her body caught between the sharp stretch and the intoxicating pleasure. Her nails dug lightly into your shoulders, a wordless reaction to the overwhelming sensation of being completely taken.

Her mother’s voice on the other end of the phone became a distant murmur, a faint and meaningless thread lost in the overwhelming symphony of sensations coursing through her body.

Each deep, measured thrust sent shockwaves rippling through her, igniting every nerve as though you’d found a secret, untouched place within her. Your hips snapped upward with precision, each motion deliberate and unhurried, as though you were savoring every reaction. At the same time, your hands pulled her down, controlling her movements to ensure that every thrust hit its mark, driving her closer to the edge. The friction was intoxicating, the way her body yielded to yours making her thighs tremble as the pleasure intensified.

Her breath hitched as you shifted your focus, your lips trailing over the curve of her neck before descending to her chest. Your tongue traced a path over her skin before taking one of her breasts into your mouth, your tongue flicking expertly over her hardened nipple. Her free hand flew to her mouth, muffling the moan that threatened to escape as waves of pleasure surged through her. The warmth of your mouth and the deliberate pace of your movements ignited a fire that spread through her like molten lava, leaving no part of her untouched.

Her thighs quivered as she fought to stay silent, her nails digging into your shoulders as if clinging to the last thread of her composure. But it was a losing battle. Each thrust, each flick of your tongue, and every teasing bite pushed her further into a realm of bliss that shattered her carefully constructed facade. The conversation with her mother became meaningless—a forgotten backdrop to the intensity of what was happening between you.

You pressed deeper, your movements deliberate, each one unraveling her defenses layer by layer. Her breath hitched as you shifted slightly, your fingers tightening on her hips. Her mind swam in a haze of pleasure as you grazed your teeth lightly against the sensitive bud. The sharpness of the sensation sent a shockwave through her, her entire body jerking against you.

And then you slipped a finger into her tight ring, the unexpected intrusion sending her over the edge. Her back arched violently, her head tilting back as her body trembled uncontrollably. The combination of sensations—the fullness of your length inside her, the teasing graze of your teeth, and the pressure of your finger—coalesced into an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed her completely.

The crescendo hit her like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from her lungs as her orgasm crashed over her with ferocious intensity. Her thighs clamped tightly around your hips as the pleasure tore through her, her moans growing louder despite her efforts to hold them back. In a panic, she fumbled to mute the call with her mother, but the moment she did, a loud scream burst from her lips, unrestrained and raw.

Her body quivered against you, every muscle tensing and relaxing in rhythm with the pulsating pleasure coursing through her. Her nails raked down your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake as she rode the waves of her climax. Her forehead pressed against your shoulder, her gasps ragged and desperate as the aftershocks rippled through her.

And then she felt it.

The warmth bloomed deep inside her as you finished, your release spilling into her in long, deliberate pulses. The sensation sent a fresh jolt through her already trembling body, her walls clenching around you involuntarily as if to hold you in place. The heat filled her completely, leaving her both stunned and overwhelmed. Her mind reeled, trying to process the depth of the intimacy while her body betrayed her, savoring the connection.

As her breathing slowed, her thoughts darkened. Images of the countless one-night stands you had brought home flashed through her mind—the strangers whose laughter and moans had echoed through these walls, the women she had heard but never seen. Now, she was one of them. Claimed, used, another conquest to add to your list.

Her chest tightened at the thought, but her body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure, betraying the conflict swirling within her. She couldn’t deny how incredible it had felt, how consuming and raw the experience was. But the realization of what she had become—just one of the many—sent a pang of shame through her, mixed with an undeniable longing for more.

For a moment, the world dissolved into nothing but sensation. Her body was a trembling, overwhelmed mess in your grasp, and all she could feel was the heat of your skin, the pressure of your hands holding her, and the lingering pleasure that left her utterly spent. The room was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, a visceral reminder of the line she had crossed.

“Two down,” you murmured against her neck, your voice low and teasing, each word sending another shiver down her spine. The words hung in the air, heavy and electric, as you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The intensity in your eyes made her heart race all over again, her body igniting anew despite the exhaustion flooding her limbs.

Her hands shook as she scrambled to end the call, stammering a breathless goodbye to her mother before collapsing against you. Her cheek rested against your chest, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her mind spun with disbelief.

How had she allowed herself to get here? How had she unraveled so completely, lost so thoroughly in sensations she had once sworn she could resist? Yet, even as she wrestled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her, a part of her couldn’t deny the truth. Deep down, beneath the lingering embarrassment and self-reproach, there was a flicker of anticipation.

She wanted more.

-----

After two consecutive days of passion and intensity, the abrupt break that followed was a mixed blessing for Eunha. On one hand, her body welcomed the respite—the soreness in her thighs and the dull ache in her hips lingered like an intimate reminder of the fervent connection you shared. On the other hand, the absence of scheduled sessions left her restless. Her mind became a storm, every stray thought spiraling back to you.

Each moment apart felt like an eternity. Her memories replayed like a fevered dream—the way your hands had explored her body with unerring precision, the intoxicating sound of your voice murmuring against her skin, the way you pulled her under your spell with every electrifying touch. She couldn’t escape the lingering echoes of your presence, the phantom feeling of your fingers tracing her curves. The ache of longing bloomed inside her chest, a dull, throbbing need that refused to be ignored.

She hated how much she craved you. Her body, once entirely her own, now seemed attuned to the thought of you, as though it anticipated your every move. Her breath would hitch at the memory of your thrusts, stirring a deep, primal hunger that sent shivers through her spine when she let her mind linger too long. How did it come to this? She couldn’t decide whether it was desire or dependency, but whatever it was, it consumed her.

As the days stretched on, the tension between you became almost unbearable. Eunha caught herself stealing glances at you in the shared spaces of your lives. You moved with infuriating ease, your calm confidence a stark contrast to the chaos roiling inside her. Every fleeting look you gave her, every shared smile or casual brush of your hand against hers, felt like a spark threatening to ignite the tightly coiled tension between you. Her pulse would quicken whenever your eyes met, her breath catching as the air thickened with an unspoken promise.

And yet, you kept your distance. Aloof but ever-present, your quiet self-assurance was a maddening reminder of her own unraveling. Each encounter left her nerves frayed, her thoughts tangled in a web of anticipation and longing.

In the quiet hours, Eunha’s thoughts betrayed her. She would sip her morning coffee and imagine your lips brushing hers, your hands gripping her waist. She would read under the warm glow of sunlight, only to find herself yearning for the warmth of your body pressed against hers. The ache of your absence seeped into her dreams, your touch haunting her even there. When she thought of the inevitable final session, her heart would race, her mind spinning with fantasies of how it might feel. The thought was intoxicating—and utterly crushing in its reminder of the emptiness that filled the spaces between your meetings.

Finally, on the last day of the week, Eunha sat at her desk, her laptop glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. The document on the screen was an empty void, the blinking cursor a silent accusation. She stared at it, fingers hovering over the keyboard, willing herself to type something—anything—but her mind was a chaotic swirl, and the still-blank page spoke volumes. No words came. No work was done.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, anticipation coiling tight in her stomach. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know you were there. Your presence was magnetic, filling the air with a weight that pressed against her like a physical force. The faint rhythm of your footsteps approached, each step resonating like a heartbeat in the otherwise silent room.

The air grew charged, humming with unspoken words and unresolved tension. It was an invisible thread connecting the two of you, tightening with each passing moment. Eunha’s fingers twitched over the keyboard, a futile attempt to pretend she hadn’t already surrendered to the moment before it even began.

You came up behind her without a word, your hands sliding over her shoulders with deliberate ease. The heat of your touch sent a ripple through her, her body responding instantly. Her breath hitched as a shiver raced down her spine, her concentration on the empty screen obliterated in an instant.

Your fingers kneaded her tense muscles with just enough pressure to make her melt against the chair. Each movement was slow, confident, deliberate. She could feel the warmth of your body close to hers, the faint scent of your cologne mingling with the sterile hum of the office air. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes, torn between surrender and resistance, her thoughts spinning as she tried to reconcile the electric pull of your presence.

“It’s time for the last session,” you whispered, your breath warm against the shell of her ear. Your voice was low, rich, each word wrapping around her like a caress. The syllables lingered, thick with promise and urgency, igniting a spark deep within her.

Her body tensed under your touch, caught between the intoxicating pull of your words and the anticipation coursing through her veins. She turned her head slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but the words died in her throat. The moment hung suspended, taut and electric, as though the air itself awaited her next move.

Before Eunha could find her voice, you effortlessly pulled her up from her chair. Her laptop screen dimmed, forgotten, as you turned her toward the desk in one fluid motion. Her breath hitched as you bent her over the cool surface, the sensation of the hard edge pressing against her chest grounding and thrilling all at once. She gasped softly when your hands slid down her sides, warm and deliberate, moving with practiced ease.

You worked methodically, your fingers grazing her skin as you peeled away her clothes. Each layer fell away like petals from a flower, leaving her bare and vulnerable under your touch. The chill of the air kissed her exposed skin, sending goosebumps rippling across her body, and the heat of your hands against her only deepened the contrast. She gripped the edge of the desk, her fingers curling tightly around it as anticipation built in her chest.

Her skin tingled with anticipation, every nerve alive and sensitive as you positioned yourself behind her. This dance, though familiar, felt new each time—each touch, each shared breath igniting a fire that burned brighter than the last. The air between you was thick, charged with the tension of the moment, and the faint scrape of fabric as you removed the last barrier between you only heightened the anticipation.

Your hands gripped her hips firmly, steadying her as you align yourself with her entrance. The heat of your length brushed against her folds, eliciting a sharp inhale as her body quivered beneath you. But instead of easing inside, you teased her—grazing her entrance with just the tip, almost like a kiss.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her fingers curling tightly against the edge of the desk. Each deliberate nudge, each tantalizing brush of your head against her, sent jolts of pleasure through her, teasing her already heightened senses. Her body reacted instinctively, her hips rolling back in an effort to meet you, seeking the fullness you held just out of reach. But just as she pushed against you, you pulled away, your teasing smirk audible in the low chuckle that escaped your lips.

Her thighs trembled, her body caught in the maddening limbo between anticipation and relief. You continued the game, pressing just enough to stretch her slightly, letting her feel the promise of you, before retreating again. The sound of her labored breathing filled the room, punctuated by the soft creak of the desk beneath her. The tension built like a coiled spring, her body humming with need, every nerve screaming for release.

Finally, you gripped her hips tighter and pressed forward, the slow, deliberate stretch as you entered her drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her back arched instinctively as she adjusted to your size, her fingers digging into the desk for support. The moment was raw and electric, her body trembling as the fullness consumed her.

As you began to move, you shifted your grip, one hand trailing down to deliver a sharp, stinging slap to her bare cheek. The sound cracked through the air, followed by a jolt of heat that made her gasp. Her body tensed under your touch, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through her. Another slap followed, the sting sending ripples of pleasure racing through her as she clenched around you.

“You like that,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you rubbed the reddened skin, soothing it before delivering another sharp smack. Each impact sent her higher, her body responding to every combination of pain and pleasure as you set a rhythm that left her breathless.

Your thrusts grew deeper, more deliberate, each movement precise and commanding as you drove her closer to the edge. The heat of your body pressed against her, the cool surface of the desk beneath her, and the lingering sting of your spanks combined to heighten her senses, leaving her utterly at your mercy. Her hips rocked back to meet your thrusts now, her movements instinctive and desperate, as though her body had been made to follow your lead.

Eunha clung to the desk, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her mind spiraled into the haze of passion. Rational thought dissolved into nothingness, replaced by the primal need to surrender completely. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of heat and desire that left her trembling and undone.

Before Eunha could steady herself, your hand slid up her back, tracing her spine with deliberate slowness before gripping the base of her ponytail. The sharp tug tilted her head back, arching her spine and forcing her to press closer against you. The motion was commanding, almost primal, and paired with the rhythmic slap of your hips against hers, it sent a new wave of shivers coursing through her body.

The sting of your earlier spanks lingered, the heat radiating from her reddened skin intensifying the contrast between pleasure and pain. Your grip on her ponytail tightened, using it as leverage to drive yourself deeper. Each thrust was deliberate, precise, and powerful, eliciting soft cries from her that grew louder with every movement. You felt her clenching around you, her body gripping you tighter with each spank and every commanding tug of her hair.

“You’re squeezing me so hard,” you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. Another sharp slap landed on her cheek, and she cried out, the sound breaking into a breathless moan as her body trembled under you. “You like this, don’t you? Being bent over your desk like this, letting me take you however I want.”

Eunha could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond. The mixture of pleasure and domination was overwhelming, her body instinctively rocking back to meet you. Her hips moved in time with yours, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure spiraling through her as her nails scraped against the desk, seeking any semblance of grounding in the storm you were creating.

Suddenly, your eyes flicked to her laptop, the screen darkened from inactivity. With a curious smirk, you reached over her, pressing on the trackpad to awaken it. The screen lit up, revealing a blank document, the cursor blinking idly as if mocking her attempt to focus.

You leaned forward slightly, your chest pressing lightly against her back, your lips brushing her ear as you murmured, “You were just waiting for me, weren’t you? Faking work just so I could come and interrupt.”

The words struck her like a lightning bolt, their truth sending her already racing heart into overdrive. She let out a shaky breath, her throat tightening as her mind reeled from the vulnerability you so effortlessly exposed. Yet, it only heightened the sensations coursing through her, the mix of humiliation and desire spiraling into something she could no longer resist.

Your pace quickened, each thrust driving deeper as the sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with her ragged gasps and breathless moans. The steady pull of her ponytail guided her body into perfect alignment, each movement drawing you closer to her deepest, most sensitive spots. Her walls clenched tighter around you, her body reacting instinctively to the rhythm you commanded.

“You’re so tight,” you groaned, your voice tinged with both exertion and satisfaction. The grip on her ponytail tightened again as your free hand traced down her back, gripping her waist to hold her steady. The push and pull of your motions became a dance of raw intensity, every movement calculated to pull her further into the abyss of pleasure.

Eunha’s breaths turned to sharp cries, her voice rising in pitch as her body betrayed her, hurtling toward release. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, the tension within her building to an unbearable crescendo. Each thrust, each slap, each tug of her ponytail sent her spiraling closer to the edge, her body arching as if begging for the final push.

And then it came. A powerful thrust paired with the sting of another spank tipped her over, the orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave. She let out a scream, her body quaking violently as every fiber of her being surrendered to the ecstasy you’d drawn out of her. Her walls pulsed around you, gripping you with a ferocity that only amplified your own pleasure.

Her forehead pressed against the desk as her moans softened into shaky breaths, her body trembling beneath you as aftershocks rippled through her. Your pace slowed but remained deliberate, drawing out every last ounce of her pleasure as you admired the way she clung to you, utterly spent.

“Look at you,” you murmured, releasing her ponytail and running your hand down her back, soothing the reddened marks left by your grip. “Completely undone.”

Eunha could barely form a reply, her breath still coming in uneven gasps as she slowly emerged from the haze of her climax. Her fingers flexed weakly against the desk, her legs quivering as she struggled to regain her footing.

But even in her exhaustion, a flicker of anticipation lingered in her chest. The intensity of what she’d just experienced wasn’t just overwhelming—it was addictive. And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t wait to see what came next.

As the tremors of her orgasm subsided, you pulled out, her walls gripping you one last time before reluctantly releasing you. The slickness of her release coated your length, gleaming in the dim light as you admired the way her body trembled beneath you, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

With a swift yet deliberate motion, your hand came down on her ass with a sharp spank, the sound cracking through the room like a whip. She let out a startled gasp, her body jolting slightly as the sting spread across her reddened cheek. Your hand lingered, kneading the warm, tender flesh as you smirked, savoring the sight of her arching beneath your touch.

“I just love your ass,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Your fingers traced the curve of her cheek, your tone dripping with admiration as you added, “So perfect. I could play with it all day.”

You punctuated your words by gripping both cheeks firmly, your thumbs sinking into the soft flesh before giving them a playful jiggle. The motion sent another wave of heat through her already oversensitized body, drawing a soft whimper from her lips as her legs quivered beneath her.

“You’re amazing,” you continued, your hands continuing to explore her, alternating between gentle squeezes and sharp slaps. The way her skin bounced under your touch captivated you, and you couldn’t resist watching her reactions—the way she trembled, the way her breath hitched with each motion.

Her body arched slightly, the mix of tenderness and dominance in your touch making her head spin. Every squeeze, every jiggle, every deliberate spank reminded her of how utterly at your mercy she was—and how much she relished it.

Your hand lingered, kneading the tender flesh, your fingers digging in just enough to draw another shiver from her. The mix of dominance and care made her head spin, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip as you leaned down to murmur against her ear, “We’re not done yet.”

A flicker of protest flashed in her hazy mind, and she opened her mouth to speak, her voice weak and breathless. “I… I don’t think…” she began, her words trailing off as the weight of your presence pressed against her. But even as her mind tried to form a coherent objection, her body betrayed her, arching instinctively into your touch.

“Shhh,” you murmured softly, your tone soothing yet unyielding. “I know you can take it.”

You stepped away briefly, leaving her bent over the desk, her body still trembling as she tried to collect herself. The sound of a drawer opening and the faint rustle of movement sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her. She bit her lip, her nails digging into the desk as her body tensed with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. When you returned, the cool sensation of lube on your fingers as you coated your length made her breath hitch, a fresh wave of nervous energy coursing through her.

With practiced ease, you spread her cheeks, revealing her tight, puckered hole. She let out a shaky breath, her voice catching as she whispered, “Wait… I’m not sure about this.”

Her words were feeble, lacking conviction, and you simply chuckled, low and teasing. “Trust me,” you said, your tone filled with quiet confidence. 

Her breath hitched as she felt a cold drop of lube land directly on her hole, the sensation startling yet oddly thrilling. Her body tensed, and she squirmed slightly beneath your hands, but the warmth of your palms steadying her hips kept her grounded. You positioned yourself, the tip of your length pressing lightly against her ring. You didn’t push in yet, letting her feel the pressure, making her hyper-aware of what was about to happen.

You stayed there, your presence a quiet, commanding force as she processed the moment. Her heart raced, her breath shallow, as the reality of her vulnerable position washed over her. The heat of your length against her and the weight of your hands on her body sent conflicting waves of tension and anticipation coursing through her.

“Anywhere I want,” you reminded her, your voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down her spine.

You began to press forward, the tight ring of muscle yielding slowly as you eased in. The stretch was intense, her gasp sharp and unrestrained as she clutched the edge of the desk. “I—wait, it’s too much,” she stammered, her voice shaky, her body trembling under you as her nerves warred with the raw, growing pleasure.

“You can take it,” you murmured, your hand stroking her back in reassurance even as you pushed further. Her protests faltered, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the sensation overwhelmed her. She could feel every ridge, every vein along your length as you pushed deeper, her body adjusting inch by inch. The mix of discomfort and raw pleasure left her dizzy, her legs quivering as she struggled to hold herself steady.

Halfway in, you paused, your hands steadying her hips. Her breathing was ragged, her body adjusting to the fullness. You reached down with one hand, your fingers finding her clit, circling it gently. The sensation made her cry out, her body clenching around you as the pleasure collided with the stretch of your entry. Her walls pulsed with every deliberate flick of your fingers, sending ripples of sensation through her core and tightening her grip on your length.

“Breathe,” you murmured, your tone firm but reassuring as you let her adjust.

You then proceeded and when you finally bottomed out, you held the position, the sensation of her tightness surrounding you utterly consuming. She was warm and slick, her body trembling as she adjusted to the new fullness. Her breathing came in shaky gasps, her body betraying her as the mix of pain and pleasure exhilarated her in ways she hadn’t expected.

She felt incredible—nothing like she had ever experienced before—and it ignited something deep within her. Her hips began to shift, pressing back against you in tentative movements. The message was clear, and you smirked, taking it as your cue to start.

Your thrusts began slowly, deliberate and deep, each one drawing a soft cry from her lips as the rhythm built. Your hand remained between her legs, teasing her folds and circling her clit, amplifying the sensations that coursed through her. Every motion was calculated, every thrust designed to send her higher, to push her further into the haze of ecstasy that clouded her mind.

Her body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet you as the rhythm quickened. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with her gasps and moans. You felt her clenching around you, her body tightening with every stroke, every flick of your fingers against her sensitive nub.

“Admit it,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, the words brushing against her ear like a caress. “You love being used by me. I unlocked something for you, didn’t I, Eunha?”

Her breath hitched at your words, her body trembling beneath you as she struggled to reply. Her voice came out in broken gasps, her words tumbling free before she could stop them. “Yes… yes… it feels so good,” she cried, her voice trembling with raw need. “I’m so full with you…”

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you tighten  your grip on her hips, driving into her with renewed intensity. Her cries grew louder, her body writhing beneath you as you pushed her closer to the edge. The pressure of your fingers on her clit, the heat of your body against hers, the stretch of every deliberate thrust—it was overwhelming, consuming her completely.

The build-up was relentless, her cries becoming more desperate, her body trembling as she teetered on the brink. The room echoed with her sounds—moans, gasps, and finally, a scream that tore from her throat as her climax hit. It was raw, unrestrained, the kind of sound she had once dismissed as fake when it came from the women you brought home before her. But now, those same sounds were spilling from her lips, unbidden, as the waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Her ring clenched tightly around you, her body convulsing as the orgasm consumed her. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, her cries piercing the air as she lost herself completely to the sensation. You didn’t stop, your hands gripping her hips with a firm intensity as you thrust deeper, chasing your own release.

When you finally spilled into her, the heat of your release filling her tightest depths, it was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The warmth spread through her, a sensation so alien and overwhelming it triggered another wave of pleasure that slammed into her like a tidal wave. Her back arched sharply, her thighs quivering as the combined sensation of fullness and release sent her spiraling into an even more powerful climax.

Her entire body trembled violently, her ring pulsing around you in rhythm with the aftershocks of her ecstasy. She was lost in the overwhelming sensations, unable to distinguish where her pleasure ended and yours began. Her voice broke into gasps and sobs of pleasure, the intensity leaving her breathless and lightheaded.

You leaned over her, your breath warm against her ear as your hands steadied her trembling form. Your fingers pinched her clit once more, a teasing stroke that sent her collapsing against the desk as the aftershocks rippled through her again. Her mind was a haze, her body slick with sweat, and all she could feel was the lingering, overwhelming sensation of being utterly claimed.

As her breathing slowed, her mind began to catch up to what her body had just experienced. The heat of your release still lingered deep inside her, a visceral reminder of how completely she had surrendered to the moment. For a fleeting second, she felt a rush of pride—this was hers now, the pleasure, the intensity, the connection. And yet, a part of her couldn’t shake the realization that this sensation, so intimate and raw, had once been shared with others before her.

But none of that mattered at this moment. All she could do was gasp for air, her body trembling against yours as the room spun around her, the aftermath of your shared ecstasy leaving her utterly undone.

“Such a good girl,” you murmured, your tone filled with satisfaction as you felt her body quiver beneath you. “All done. I knew you had it in you.”

Her legs gave out as the aftershocks rippled through her, leaving her limp and utterly spent. You held her close for a moment, letting her catch her breath, before you began to pull back. Slowly, deliberately, you exited her, and the sensation left her gasping softly. The emptiness hit her like a sudden void, her body instinctively clenching as if to draw you back in, but you were already gone.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the cool air brushed over her now-gaping ring, the absence of your presence making her feel incomplete. A strange, hollow ache settled deep within her, as though a part of her was missing. She bit her lip, suppressing the odd sense of longing that threatened to bubble up, her mind torn between shame and the raw need still thrumming through her veins.

You stepped back, letting your gaze linger for a moment on the sight of her. She was utterly undone, her body slack and trembling, her skin glistening with sweat. The way she looked—spent and marked—sent a surge of satisfaction through you. Before leaving her entirely, you raised a hand and delivered one last sharp smack to her reddened cheeks, the sound cracking through the room.

Eunha flinched at the sudden sting, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Her body shivered in response, her cheeks burning with a fresh wave of heat as the mark of your control lingered on her skin. The smack felt like a punctuation to everything that had just happened, a reminder of the claim you had staked on her.

As you stepped away, she remained draped over the desk, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Her mind swirled with disbelief and exhilaration as the realization of what had just happened fully hit her. She had never felt anything like this—never thought it was even possible. Her body still tingled, every nerve hypersensitive, and yet the absence of you left her feeling unmoored, yearning for something more. She leaned against the desk, spent and vulnerable, the weight of the moment settling over her like a warm yet haunting blanket.

-----

By the end of the week, Eunha had stopped fighting the inevitable. She had surrendered to your connection, letting you take what you wanted, each encounter intensifying the bond that tethered you together. Every touch, every glance, every whispered word deepened the intimacy between you. And in the quiet aftermath, when your breathing had steadied and her body still buzzed with the memory of your touch, she found herself wanting more. Not just the physical connection, but the unspoken exclusivity that seemed to linger in the air between you.

She wanted to be the only one you touched, the only one you claimed, the only one you used.

But then the week ended, and reality came crashing down.

You walked through the door with another girl, your laughter ringing out like a cruel reminder of everything she wasn’t. The sight hit Eunha like a blow, sharp and unforgiving. Her heart sank as she froze in the doorway of her room, her fingers gripping the frame as if to steady herself. SinB. Of all people, it had to be SinB.

Her mind raced as she watched you chat effortlessly, your hand brushing SinB’s arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way you smiled at her, leaned in just slightly as you spoke, set Eunha’s blood boiling. This wasn’t just disrespect—this felt personal. Jealousy burned hot inside her, laced with a bitter sting of betrayal. After everything you’d shared, how could you act so indifferent? And with her friend, no less.

SinB giggled at something you said, the sound twisting in Eunha’s stomach like a knife. Her jaw clenched as she watched the two of you move down the hall, your casual smirk cutting through her like a dagger. Her stomach churned as you opened your bedroom door, ushering SinB inside like this was just another meaningless encounter.

The door clicked shut, and something inside her snapped.

Before she could think twice, Eunha’s feet carried her down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest as rage surged through her. Without hesitation, she shoved the door open, the force of it startling both you and SinB.

“Eunha!” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with surprise as you turned to face her.

“Get out,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury as her gaze locked onto SinB.

SinB blinked, confusion etched across her face as she looked between you and Eunha. “Uh… excuse me?”

“I said, get out,” Eunha repeated, her tone sharp and unyielding. Her eyes burned with a fire that left no room for argument.

“Eunha, what is going on?” SinB asked, her voice rising in disbelief. “Why are you acting like this?”

“You know exactly why,” Eunha snapped, her voice cutting through the tension. “Just go.”

SinB hesitated, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance, before grabbing her purse and muttering something under her breath. She glanced at you as if for an explanation, but you said nothing, your calm gaze fixed on Eunha instead. SinB huffed, brushing past Eunha as she left the room. The sound of the front door closing was loud in the ensuing silence.

Eunha’s hands clenched into fists at her sides as she took a step closer, her anger spilling over. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You tilted your head slightly, your expression infuriatingly casual. “Care to elaborate?”

“SinB?” she hissed, her voice low but trembling with emotion. “Are you just making the rounds of my friends now? Is that it? First Umji, and now this?”

Your smirk deepened, but there was a flicker of something else in your eyes—curiosity, perhaps. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“You don’t,” she shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “But I trusted you, and you… You’re doing this on purpose. You’re trying to—” She cut herself off, her chest heaving as she struggled to find the words. “Are you trying to humiliate me? To make me feel like nothing?”

You stepped closer, your voice calm, almost soothing. “You’re taking this awfully personally, Eunha.”

“Of course I am!” she snapped, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You used me, and now you’re—what? Moving on to the next? Except it’s not just anyone, is it? You’re picking my friends. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

The tension in the room was thick, the air crackling with the weight of unspoken emotions. You studied her carefully, your gaze steady as you leaned back slightly. “And why does it bother you so much? Why does it matter who I bring here?”

Eunha’s breath hitched, her anger faltering for a moment as the question hung between you. She swallowed hard, her fists loosening at her sides. “Because it’s not just about them,” she admitted, her voice softer now but no less raw. “It’s about me. It’s about what I thought we had.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the distance between you feeling both too much and not enough. For the first time, Eunha’s vulnerability was laid bare, and the weight of her words hung in the air like a challenge.

Eunha’s hands trembled as she stood in the center of your room, her chest heaving with the effort to keep her emotions in check. The silence between you was deafening, her words hanging in the air as she tried to make sense of everything she was feeling. The betrayal, the anger, the jealousy—all of it swirled inside her like a storm, but underneath it all was a need she couldn’t deny. A need for you to understand what this had done to her.

You raised a brow, completely unfazed by her confession. “What’s your problem?”

Eunha’s chest tightened, her heart pounding as she struggled to find the right words. “After everything… after this whole week, you just go back to bringing some other girl home like it was nothing?”

Your expression darkened slightly, though your tone remained calm. “Our deal’s over, Eunha. I didn’t think it was a big deal anymore.”

“It is a big deal!” she shot back, her voice cracking with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. Her eyes burned as she stared at you, willing you to see how much this mattered to her. “You used me all week. You touched me like I was yours, like I was the only one. And now you just… move on like none of it mattered?”

You stepped closer, your movements deliberate and measured, the space between you shrinking as your voice dropped. “What did you expect? It was a bet, Eunha. You lost. That’s all there was to it.”

Her breath hitched at your words, the weight of them landing like a blow to her chest. She shook her head, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. “No. You can’t tell me it didn’t mean something. You can’t just act like I’m the same as the rest.”

Your gaze softened for a fleeting moment, though your casual demeanor didn’t falter entirely. “And what if you’re not?” you asked, your tone quieter now, almost teasing. “What are you trying to say, Eunha?”

Her hands trembled at her sides as the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I want to be the only one. The only one you… use.”

The air between you grew heavy with the weight of her admission. Her chest heaved as she looked up at you, her eyes burning with emotion. For the first time, her vulnerability was laid bare, her need for you undeniable.

You stepped closer, the distance between you almost nonexistent now. “That’s what you want?” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate. “You want to be mine?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling but firm.

Your hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face as your lips curled into a smirk. “Prove it.”

She blinked, her breath hitching at the challenge in your voice. “How?” she asked softly.

Without answering, you stepped back, gesturing toward the floor in front of the couch. “Kneel,” you commanded, your tone calm but firm.

Eunha hesitated for only a moment before sinking to her knees, the plush carpet soft beneath her as her hands rested awkwardly at her sides. Her body trembled under the weight of your gaze, her heart racing as she obeyed. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric as you pulled your phone from your pocket.

She watched with a mix of curiosity and apprehension as your fingers moved across the screen. You sent a quick text before sliding the phone back into your pocket, your smirk deepening as you took a seat on the couch in front of her.

You leaned back, your posture casual, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “Don’t move,” you said simply, your voice carrying an edge of command that made her heart skip a beat.

Eunha nodded, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she knelt there, her body tense under your unyielding stare. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the weight of the moment pressing down on her as she fought to keep still. She wanted to ask what you had done, what would come next, but the intensity in your gaze kept her silent.

Minutes later, a knock echoed through the apartment, and her stomach twisted with nerves. Her eyes darted toward the door, but she didn’t dare move. She could hear your footsteps as you stood and made your way to the door, opening it with ease.

“Hey,” came Umji’s voice, her tone curious. “You texted me to come over? What’s going on?”

“Come in,” you said smoothly, stepping aside to let her enter. Eunha’s breath hitched as she heard the door close, her body frozen in place. Umji’s eyes landed on her almost immediately, confusion flickering across her face as she took in the scene.

“What is this?” Umji asked, her voice filled with disbelief as she glanced between you and Eunha.

You moved to stand behind Eunha, your hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “She wanted to prove something,” you said casually, your tone laced with amusement. “So I thought you might want to see.”

Eunha’s cheeks burned under Umji’s gaze, her body trembling with a mix of humiliation and anticipation. She felt your fingers trail down her arm, your touch both grounding and electrifying as you leaned down to murmur in her ear.

“Don’t make me wait,” you said softly, the words sending a shiver through her. “Start.”

Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and hesitant as she began to undress. Piece by piece, her clothing fell away, leaving her bare and exposed under the sharp contrast of your commanding presence and Umji’s incredulous stare.

“What the hell is going on?” Umji demanded, her voice rising slightly, but she didn’t look away.

Eunha’s breath came in shallow gasps as you guided her closer to the couch, your hand tangling in her hair as you brought her face to your length. “Just watch,” you said simply, your voice calm yet commanding.

Eunha’s lips brushed against you, her movements tentative at first as she began to please you, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Her warm breath ghosted over your length as her tongue flicked out, testing and teasing before she grew bolder. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around you, her head lowering as she took you into her mouth. Her hands gripped your thighs for balance, her touch light but steady as she worked to find her rhythm.

Her efforts were cautious but deliberate, each stroke of her tongue a mix of careful exploration and mounting determination. The sound of her soft, wet movements filled the room, a symphony of submission that drew your attention back to her. Occasionally, you reached down, your hand tangling in her hair to guide her movements, pushing her head down further. Each time, she responded with a muffled gasp, her body tensing momentarily before she adjusted, taking you deeper.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing, your praise making her cheeks burn brighter. The words sent a surge of motivation through her, and she worked harder, her lips gliding smoothly along your length, her tongue swirling expertly around you.

For Eunha, this was the biggest test. Every motion, every flick of her tongue was charged with the weight of proving herself. She knew this was more than just an act of submission—it was a declaration of her place, her claim on you. A small, unexpected part of her stirred with arousal at the thought of Umji watching. Showing her friend who was truly yours, who had earned this, awakened a pride she didn’t know she possessed. It was intoxicating, this mixture of vulnerability and power, and it drove her further.

You leaned back against the couch, letting her set the pace for a moment before gripping the back of her head firmly and pressing her down. Her eyes widened as she took you deeper, her throat constricting slightly as she adjusted to your command. She let out a muffled sound, a mix of effort and surrender, before pulling back just enough to catch her breath. You allowed her a brief reprieve before guiding her again, her lips tightening around you as she resumed her work with even greater intensity.

Across the room, Umji stood frozen, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the scene unfold. Her gaze remained locked on Eunha, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. There was curiosity too, evident in the way her lips parted slightly as though to speak, only to remain silent. The sight of Eunha—once brimming with disdain for you—now fully submitting to your control was nothing short of a revelation.

“You’re really putting on a show, aren’t you?” you remarked, your voice dripping with amusement as your hand rested lightly on the back of Eunha’s head. “Keep going. Show her why you’re the only one.”

Eunha’s eyes flickered upward, meeting yours for the briefest moment before closing again. She redoubled her efforts, her movements growing faster, more fluid as her arousal fueled her determination. The wet sounds of her work filled the room, punctuated by her soft hums and the occasional gasp when you pushed her deeper.

Your breathing quickened as she found her rhythm, her technique honed with every passing second. Her lips tightened around you, her tongue pressing firmly against the sensitive underside as she bobbed her head. You groaned softly, the sound spurring her on as she worked to bring you closer to the edge.

When your climax hit, it was with a sharp exhale and a tightening of your grip on her hair. You pressed her down, holding her in place as you released, feeling her throat constrict as she swallowed without hesitation. Her cheeks hollowed as she took everything you gave, her obedience absolute.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you leaned forward slightly, your hand loosening in her hair. “Tilt your head back,” you commanded, your tone low and firm. Eunha obeyed, tilting her head until her face was angled perfectly toward you. “Open,” you added, and her lips parted slowly, her breath coming in soft pants as you inspected her.

Your release pooled at the back of her throat, glistening under the dim light. The sight sent a surge of satisfaction through you, and you allowed yourself a moment to admire her submission before leaning forward slightly.

“Hold it,” you murmured. With one hand steadying her chin, you spat lightly into her mouth, the act deliberate and possessive—a seal of her surrender. “Now swallow.”

Eunha’s throat bobbed as she complied, her lips closing around the mix of sensations with no hesitation. Her eyes flickered upward, meeting yours briefly before darting away, her cheeks flushed with a mix of humiliation and pride.

“Good girl,” you said, your voice tinged with satisfaction as you wiped a thumb across her chin, catching a stray drop before it fell. You pulled her back slightly, your member still glistening as you began to tap it lightly against her lips, the soft, wet sounds drawing a faint blush to her already heated skin.

Your hand shifted to her cheek, guiding her head as you tapped her face twice, the subtle smack sending a shiver through her. The sound was muted yet deliberate, a reminder of her place and the power you held over her. Her lips parted instinctively, and you pressed the tip of your length against her once more, smirking as her breath hitched.

As you pulled back, your gaze flickered to Umji, who had remained rooted in place, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the entire scene unfold. Her expression was a mix of shock and disbelief, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, though no words came.

“I think we’re done here,” you said, your tone casual as though nothing unusual had just occurred. You gestured lazily toward the door, your attention still focused on Eunha’s flushed face. “We can’t meet up anymore.”

“What?” Umji managed, her voice rising slightly with disbelief.

You shrugged, the smirk on your lips unfaltering. “You see how it is. Eunha’s the one who belongs here now.”

Umji blinked, her gaze flickering between you and Eunha, still kneeling at your feet. Eunha’s chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, her hair disheveled and her cheeks still stained red from exertion and submission. Yet her eyes remained fixed on you, a silent devotion radiating from her as she knelt motionless, her body awaiting your next command.

Umji shifted on her feet, crossing her arms tighter as she glanced down at Eunha. “Eunha,” she said, her tone softer now, tinged with disbelief, “are you really okay with this? With him?”

Eunha didn’t respond. She didn’t move. Her gaze remained unwaveringly on you, as though Umji wasn’t even in the room. The lack of acknowledgement was as loud as any reply, leaving Umji stunned into silence.

“Well,” Umji said after a moment, her voice quieter. “I guess… I guess that’s that.” She hesitated, her gaze lingering on Eunha one last time before she turned toward the door. “Goodbye.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and the apartment fell into silence. You exhaled softly, leaning back against the couch as your hand slid through Eunha’s hair, the gentle motion drawing her gaze upward to meet yours.

“You’ve earned it,” you murmured, your voice low and approving. “You’re mine.”

Eunha’s lips parted slightly as a faint blush spread across her cheeks, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion. Slowly, she moved forward, her knees brushing against the carpet as she climbed into your lap, her arms wrapping around your neck with surprising tenderness. Her lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss, her body melting against yours as if she belonged there—because she did.

Her breath was warm against your skin as she nestled against your chest, her head resting on your shoulder. The tension from moments before dissolved into something quieter, softer, as she clung to you. Her fingers traced absent patterns along your collarbone, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her words carrying a weight that hinted at something deeper—a surrender not just of her body, but of her trust, her heart, and her place by your side.

You rested a hand on her back, the other threading lazily through her hair as you held her close. The silence between you wasn’t empty; it was full of an unspoken understanding, a bond forged through everything you had shared. At that moment, there was no doubt. Eunha was yours, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[angelssmvse]

𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙏

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝙎𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙆𝘼 𝙓 𝙁𝙀𝙈 !𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝜗𝜚 (smut)

𝜗𝜚 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 You've always been stubborn, with a tendency to insist that everything you say or want must be followed. However, at times, you would act in a slightly childish manner, which Sevika despised.

𝜗𝜚 𝘼/𝙉 I'm pleased to present my first one-shot smut—I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to share any requests you may have. Thank you, angels <3

𝜗𝜚 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 smut! minors DNI. This narrative contains mature themes and explicit content, including strong language, depictions of violence, adult situations (smut), and elements of both humor and tenderness. Reader discretion is advised.

“Control yourself, little girl,” she says casually in response to your ongoing complaints. “You know you can’t leave this place until I fix everything to ensure your safety.” Sevika moves closer to the items you’re working on and sits next to you, her gaze locked on you.

You roll your eyes. “Before you came along, I fought against some pretty tough and dangerous people—do you really think I can’t handle this?” She scoffs, looking down as she takes a drag from her cigarette and blows the smoke in your direction. You cough dramatically. “Forget this, I’m out of here,” you declare, standing up quickly. But before you can leave, a metallic hand rests on your waist, stopping you in your tracks.

The two of you had a brief struggle before she managed to pin you down, carefully applying just enough pressure to restrain you without causing any harm. In an impulsive reaction, you bit her hand. Little did you know, this only fueled her anger further. Sevika growls, leaning closer to your ear. “Now, what the hell was that—hmm?” Her voice sends a shiver through you, causing your body to arch towards her. “Easy, easy,” she whispers soothingly.

You could feel her other hand, running gently from your waist to your ass leaving cold trails, you whimper as the air tenses. She loved it—loved to tease you and see you weak like this for her.

She began to kiss your neck leaving cute little spots on it just as a reminder later on, her kissed continue, first to the crook of your shoulders then chest, she stops looking up and smirks as she goes on, to your waist going progressively lower and lower.

You whimper as she goes down. Sevika pauses, looking up with a smirk. "I hate you," you whisper. She chuckles, "Oh really?"

You look up at her, amused. She smirks, breaking eye contact to glance at your soft, kissable lips. She moves closer until you can feel her warm breath, her nose brushing against yours, and then her lips against yours. Your hands rest on her neck, while hers encircle your waist as she guides you to sit on the nearest flat surface.

Sevika breaks the kiss and looks at you while her fingers try to find a way through your panties reaching your wet pussy, she smirks putting one finger first and then another making your heart accelerate and making you moan her name “Shhh now…” she teases you by accelerating her peace.

Right when you almost reached your climax she removes her fingers and tastes a bit of you before going down and ending up in between your legs; she starts off by kissing your inner tights, without breaking any eye contact, she wanted to see and hear everything—every movement, expression and screams you’d produce just for her, and only her.

She loved every minute of it, and sure as hell you did too.

Copyright © angelssmvse 2024 — I own only this story; please do not copy nor translate without permission or proper attribution. I give credit for the character Sevika from the series "Arcane" by Riot Games. This is the only platform where I have published the story.

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (2)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1: here) (part 2)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (smut and content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: here is pt.2 i hope you like how this ended :) thank you for reading ♡ please leave a reblog, comment, or ask with your thoughts, i appreciate u !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: dry humping, kissing, fingering, penetrative sex, corruption kink, degradation, dom!wonwoo, brat!reader, virgin!reader,oral (f. receiving), creampie, exhibitionsm (?), slightly perv!wonwoo undertones, petnames (reader: darling, baby) (wonwoo: baby), big dick wonwoo, riding, headlock (this is a warning actly). ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

act two, self control.

chapter one, before the fight. 

The booth you sat in was far too cramped for your liking, yet there was a sense of relief that washed over you. Raval had been a go-to hang-out spot after all the tireless hours spent studying during the weekdays. The atmosphere was lively, your friends’ laughter drowning out most of your thoughts. 

Tonight also marked the first time in your life that you could fully enjoy a night out with your friends. Without Wonwoo’s presence clouding your worries. 

Despite his obvious plea for attention, you felt like you could finally breathe. The adjustment and decision to flat-out ignore him was difficult, but thanks to Seokmin it had become a little easier to bear over time. This past week was filled with more joy than you’ve had in a long time. And Seokmin had been extremely doting towards you throughout it all. 

“Babe, can you pass the pistachios please?” Jun pouts, his cheeks red from his third glass of beer. 

“Did you need me to peel them for you, baby?” June coos, lips curling into a cutesy tone. 

With a quizzical expression, Mingyu turns to Kalia, trying not to laugh at the other couple's foolishness. The two share a look before Kalia fake gags, causing Mingyu to burst out laughing. It had almost gone unnoticed until Mingyu broke out into a fit of giggles, June glaring at him with an unamused expression. 

Watching the whole scene unfold had you smiling to yourself, wondering if there would ever be a time when you got to have these cheesy moments with someone the way your friends did. 

“Oh please, Kalia. You act like I didn’t see you and Mingyu practically eating each other's faces off in the library yesterday, ” June huffs, shooting daggers at the both of them while peeling away the pistachio shells for her drunken boyfriend. 

“Hey! You said that no one would catch us.” Kalia slaps the back of Mingyu’s head, causing him to wince. 

“First of all ouch, second of all, I didn’t know that anyone would go that far back into the library!” Mingyu defends himself.

“Actually, the two of us were trying to do the same thing, but we saw you and dipped,” Jun confesses in his drunken state, while he munches on the pistachios June had been feeding him.

“Ha! Take that June, you're just as bad as us, if not worse,” Kalia gibes, sticking her tongue out at June. 

“Actually, all of you are equally as corny, end of discussion,” Leigh chirps, his eyes rolling as Lynne, his twin sister, cackles beside him. Both evidently fed up with the ‘who’s the cheesier couple’ argument. 

Amidst all the bickering, you take a sip of your drink, eyes glimmering with admiration. It seemed so simple for your friends to find someone who truly loved them, and wasn’t afraid to show it. 

Wonwoo had been at the forefront of your mind for so long that you had denied yourself anyone else. You had been so set on making Wonwoo your end goal when you could’ve found someone who would’ve treated you better. Reminders of all your missed opportunities left a bitter taste in your mouth, the alcohol on your tongue sweet in comparison.

“Something on your mind?” Lynne breaks you out of your thoughts. 

With your glass pushed down onto the sticky bar table, you give her a crooked smile that feels less disingenuous than the previous smiles you have been producing these past few months. 

“Kinda wondering when I’ll have something like those goofballs over there,” you chuckle bitterly, head motioning to the two girls fake arguing while their boyfriends sat there cluelessly. 

“I thought you were dating Wownoo?” Lynne asks, and you couldn’t help but laugh at your pitiful situation. 

His face flashes briefly within your mind, and you’d almost forgotten that you had chosen not to speak to him, for how long? You weren’t sure. It could be days or months, or until you’ve finally healed from your one-sided heartbreak. 

“No… no. He and I were just close friends,” your tone is melancholic. Lynne’s worry is transparent as she squeezes your shoulder. 

Desolation filled your senses regardless of the bar patrons' exuberant chatter. Your group of friends were all in their own worlds while you were troubled and inattentive. There was guilt gnawing at your insides. You didn’t want this to be one of those talks where you delve into the intricacies of your peculiar friendship with Wonwoo. 

“And that's okay, too. I'm not sure what happened, but he’s an idiot if he can’t see what's right in front of him,” she affirmed as you sat there, relieved that she didn’t press the situation further. 

“Tell me about it, it feels like everyone's been saying the same thing,” you mutter. 

Overhearing your conversation, Lynne’s twin brother couldn’t help but jump in, “Wonwoo’s a dumbass.” 

Lynne gives him a pointed look, but can’t help but laugh at her brother's antics.  Feathery giggles leave your throat too, finding Leigh’s unexpected declaration amusing. 

“Sorry, I had to put my two cents in, he kinda sucks! As a friend he’s okay I guess, but as a boyfriend, girl, you’re better off without him,” Leigh puts his hands up in defence, but there was truth behind his statement. 

“True, I’ve seen what he’s done to some of the girls on campus, total—,” Lynne begins, only for her sentence to be cut off. 

“Red flag,” Leigh finishes Lynne’s proclamation. 

Twin telepathy, you assumed.

“Hey, I’ll cheers to that,” you shook your head with a chuckle, taking three shot glasses before topping them up with a bottle of tequila Mingyu had bought for the table. 

“What! You guys are taking shots without us?” Jun whined before filling his glass with liquor. 

The whole table's attention is on the three of you now, joining in on the rounds of shots going around. The clangour of glassware chimes throughout the carved-out space of the bar you and your friends had claimed for the night. 

“Wonwoo’s an asshole!” Leigh blurted out loud before throwing back the alcohol in his cup. 

There's a moment of silence amongst the rest of your friends at the table, before they all burst out laughing before repeating Leigh’s words. 

“Wonwoo’s an asshole!” They all say wholeheartedly in unison. 

The gleam in everyone’s eyes caused warmth to swell all over your body. Nothing could compare to moments like these, and you desperately hoped that the night wouldn’t end. The reassurance that your friends had given you should’ve been worth the pain of cutting Wonwoo off. Praying that their effort to cheer you up wouldn’t be wasted on foolish decisions you desperately wanted to make; the yearning for Wonwoo has only skyrocketed and it frightens you to the core.

 No matter how distracted you attempt to make yourself, he still floods your every waking thought. 

two. 

 Since your decision to ignore Wonwoo, Seokmin has been coming over to your place a lot more often. You can’t recollect when it started to happen, but you're not opposed to his company. It’s quite the opposite actually; if anything he’s made your days a lot brighter, keeping you distracted from your urge to text Wonwoo. 

The time you spent with Seokmin mostly consisted of him trying to get you to finish the whole Harry Potter series with him. When you told him you’ve never seen the movies before, he had a comical look of shock painted over his face. Hands slapped against his cheeks, eyes wide they almost popped out of the sockets, type of comical. 

“Not even the first movie?! Not even on Halloween during elementary school?” Seokmin gasps, hands on your shoulders, trying to gauge what you did and didn’t know about the infamous films. 

“Yes! Not even when I was a kid, is it bad that I haven’t watched it?” 

“It's not just bad, this is almost criminal,” Seokmin sighs, feigning distraught. 

You chortle at his remark, baffled by how seriously passionate he is about Harry Potter, which ended almost ten years ago, you might add. 

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do,” he shakes his head, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. We’re going to binge-watch this thing until you're caught up.” 

“What? Isn’t that a bit much? There are like a bajillion movies,” you exasperate. 

Not wanting to hear another complaint from you, Seokmin shushes you dramatically. His pointer finger was in front of your lips before you could get another word in. 

“I'll get the snacks. You sit here and get comfy because you���re in for a ride,” Seokmin asserts before standing to grab food and drinks from your kitchen. 

An audible sigh leaves your lips, arms crossed as you pull the blanket over yourself to “get comfy” just as Seokmin wanted. 

A few minutes passed before Seokmin returned to the living room, a bowl of microwave popcorn perched on his side and two cans of soda cradled in his other arm. 

“You left your phone on the counter, by the way,” He mentions before placing it on the coffee table. 

“Oh! Thanks, I didn’t even realize,” you smile, shifting to make room for him on the couch. 

“You ready for the greatest movie experience ever?” Seokmin beamed, plopping back into his seat beside you. 

“Sure, but we can only watch the first two,” you bargained with him, knowing that if he had it his way, you two would be up till sunrise. 

Seokmin rolled his eyes jokingly, pretending to be annoyed with your lack of enthusiasm. Despite his antics, he agrees with your compromise. The movie begins to play and you let yourself relax in his presence. A bowl of popcorn is shared between you two while he wraps his hand over your shoulder. Not used to the proximity between you and him, you're thankful the increased volume drowned out the pitter-patter of your heartbeat. 

…

“Well that was a lot better than I expected,” you admit. 

Although you were uncertain about watching the movies at first, you had acknowledged the hype around the Harry Potter franchise. Seokmin had caught all your facial expressions while watching, peering over to catch your reactions during all the major plot points. You had been so obviously absorbed in it that you didn’t realize he had been staring.

“I told you! It just gets better from here. The Goblet of Fire is my favourite, you’ll love it,” Seokmin marvels, wanting to indulge in his interests with you. 

“Tom Riddle is kinda cute, I won’t lie.” 

“But he’s evil…and you know he gets ugly anyways. He’s literally Voldemort!” Seokmin disputed with a stare of mild disgust. 

“Yeah, I know, but there’s a bunch of attractive villains, like Killmonger from Black Panther,” you shrug, but Seokmin looks at you like you had just insulted his entire bloodline with your statement. 

Giggling, you didn’t expect him to take your opinions so seriously. 

“Fine. I won't say anything else. You go take your shower, and I’ll clean up,” he ushers you toward your room while holding the empty bowl in his hands. 

“How did you know that I was gonna take a shower?” you ask with curiosity. 

“I’ve known you for so long, you always take a shower before bed,” Seokmin explained nonchalantly.  

Heat radiated off your face, and your timid expression would’ve been visible if Seokmin’s back wasn’t facing you. You hadn’t realized how well Seokmin knew you.

“Thanks for cleaning up, I won’t be long,” you give him a smile of gratitude before heading over to your bathroom. 

The more time you spend with Seokmin, the more you regret falling for Wonwoo. Seokmin is kind and doting, and he never causes you to feel any worry. He is the prime example of home, reminiscent of a warm fire while snuggled up on the couch with a pile of blankets.

 Seokmin feels safe. The safe choice, the smart choice. 

Unfortunately, you were too foolish to have known sooner. Your irrevocable love for Wonwoo overshadowed all the possibilities of being with Seokmin. 

A knock on your front door brings you out of your spiralling thoughts. But before you head over to open the door, Seokmin beats you to it. 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” you call out from your bathroom, not bothering to leave. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin half yelled from where he stood. 

There was a moment of doubt in your mind, why would your neighbour want to borrow something so late into the night? Instead of investigating further, you leave it to Seokmin to help them, too tired to talk to anyone else for the rest of the evening. 

“Okay!” is all you say. 

You turn on the shower, allowing the steam to congregate and relax your senses. As you step in, you grant the warm water the ability to wash away your conflicting thoughts about both Seokmin and Wonwoo. 

after the fight. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”

The bile in your throat stings, the corner of your eyes wet with tears. You didn’t expect Wonwoo to burst in here accusing you of things you wouldn’t dare do. There’s a familiar hollow feeling in your chest as you recollect how much of your heart you laid bare for him to witness. 

Had you known that ignoring him would lead to an outburst of unrelenting anger, you wouldn’t have done so in the first place. Even when this cologne hangs in the still air of your apartment, you yearn for his presence. Even when you unleashed your fury at him, kicking him out with no remorse, you still yearn for his touch. 

There hadn’t been many fights between the two of you, only enough to count on one hand. It would be petty arguments over stupid things. Arguments that would lead to one of you apologizing before the day was over. This fight seems different. It can’t be resolved with a quick ‘I’m sorry’. 

Defeated and tired, you move to your bed. Your phone sits atop the dresser. Curious and wishing for Wonwoo to just return and apologize, you click his contact. You almost feel like you are in some fever dream, the words ‘you’ve blocked this number’ staring back at you in flashing red. 

Horrified by the sight of your phone screen, you don’t remember blocking him in the first place. Wracking your brain, you’re trying to think of all the instances where you had been drunk or high enough to even do so, but nothing comes to mind. If you didn’t block him, then who did? 

You unblock his contact as quickly as possible, not wanting to create even more distance between you, although it might be too late to rectify the situation. A few messages were sent shortly after the fight had gone down. 

[2:55 a.m.]  [wons <3: idk if you’ll receive this but i’m sorry darling. i mean it.] [wons <3: i didn’t mean what i said earlier. i was just so angry. when ure ready to talk, lmk.]

Wonwoo’s text brings a swell of comfort within you. As much as you hate what he did, you could never bring yourself to hate him. 

three.

“You know, I’m kinda glad you’re here,” you professed. 

The harrowed walls of your home became a lot more bearable now that you had someone other than yourself inside them. The entire place felt far too big for you, especially because you tend to sit alone with your thoughts too often. 

Seokmin coming over to hang out was not part of your initial plan. But his unannounced visit wasn’t unwelcomed either. He was extremely talented in distracting you with his sporadic outbursts of energy and laughter. Seokmin made you feel quaint, almost as if he could be the ‘someone’ after everything you had been through with Wonwoo. 

With crescent-shaped eyes that appeared when his smile broadened, Seokmin wrapped his arm tautly against your shoulder. 

“I honestly just came over to check on how you were doing, after everything that happened, but I don’t mind staying for a while, I’d do anything if you asked.” 

“Are you flirting with me, Lee Seokmin?” 

Seokmin threw his head back with a hearty contagious laugh. Before you knew it, you were laughing along with him. 

The voice in the back of your head hissed symphonies of how easier your life would’ve been if you had just fallen in love with Seokmin instead. No matter how many times you tried to unearth a flaw of his, nothing comes to mind. There were so many signs leading you toward him, and how perfect he would be for you. But your heart still belongs elsewhere, even after what has been said and done. 

Seokmin’s eyes dimmed, “Would it be so bad if I was?” 

Taken aback by his words, your mouth opens and closes, trying to figure out whether he’s joking or genuine about his statement. 

“I-I guess not,” you mumble, watching the way his gaze shifts from your eyes down to your lips. 

Holding your breath, you can’t deny the tension that the two of you had created. Bodies practically meshed together on the couch, you weren’t sure how you ended up in this position but if Seokmin was the answer to distracting you from the fight with Wonwoo, who were you to deny him? 

“I really want to kiss you,” Seokmin confesses. 

“I wouldn’t stop you if you did.” 

Seokmin didn’t need much convincing after what you had professed. Swinging your legs over his lap, he grapples you into a position that has you straddling his thighs. The swiftness of his movements almost caused a yelp to leap out of your throat, but he steadied you before you could let out another noise.

With the faintest of touch, Seokmin places his lips over yours. Ever so cautious, ever so careful, he clearly wants to savour the moment. Despite his heedfulness, you were the exact opposite. You want it to be fast, you want him to be rough. 

There’s deliberate fervour behind your actions, causing Seokmin to groan in surprise. Rough palms gripping your waist, he matches your energy. The world sinks into a deep void along with the cruel songstress who refused to let you neglect your feelings for Wonwoo. 

Even though you have the desire to prolong your make-out with Seokmin, your phone buzzes against the plush cushions of your couch. Practically jumping out of his lap, you unlock your phone as if you weren’t just making out with Seokmin, to discover yet another text from Wonwoo. 

Every time his contact appears on your screen, your heart can’t help but skip a beat. It angers you how easily enraptured you are by something so minuscule. Even after you had kicked him out of your house that night, you can’t deny his diligence and how desperate he is for forgiveness. 

You almost wanted to curse him out for his audacity, but the other half wanted to give in and let him explain. Eyes glued to his messages, you find yourself reading them over and over again, your heart swollen with an aching desire to talk to him again. 

[11:09 p.m.]  [wons <3: hi. ik ur still mad but let me make it up to you. please?]  [wons <3: i don’t know what i have to do to make u forgive me but just know i don’t want us to end on this note.]  [wons <3: please darling, u mean so much to me, i don’t wanna lose u.]  [wons <3: i can’t stand this. please, just give me a chance to make things right] 

Only a fool would be swooning over his visible cry out for attention, and a fool you were.  Wonwoo’s claws have sunk so deep into you, that you can’t even kiss someone without him interrupting. It's like he knew what you were doing without even seeing you. 

“I thought you blocked him?” the inflection of disappointment apparent in Seokmin’s voice. 

Plopping your phone back down on the sofa, your brain finally registers the words that Seokmin had just uttered. You know for a fact that it wasn’t you who blocked his contact, but how the hell did Seokmin know?

 Unless he was the one to do so… 

A moment of realization struck you like a bolt of lightning, and the confusion finally cleared by the slip of Seokmin’s tongue. Why would he block Wonwoo’s contact on your phone? 

Attempting to recall when and where this could’ve happened, you remember the day you left your phone on the kitchen counter during the Harry Potter movie marathon. The burn at the back of your throat intensified as awareness sunk into your whole being. Seokmin was under the guise of a doting friend while you were in your feelings for Wonwoo. Pretending to be your knight in shining armour while you were in a vulnerable state. How could you be so naive? 

Wonwoo had been trying to tell you the truth, but you foolishly snubbed all his warnings out of anger. 

Nauseous and betrayed, you didn’t know that Seokmin would turn out to be the one to manipulate you, to sway your opinions to gain your time and affection. You’re so shaken up from your revelation that you almost forget who exactly is sitting right in front of you. 

“I’m really sorry Seokmin, but that kiss. I wasn’t thinking straight,” you attempt to act calm, not wanting to escalate the situation. 

“It’s okay, I understand. It's only been a week,” he shrugs with a rueful demeanour, “You’re still in love with him and there's not a lot I can do to change your mind.” 

“You’re right, there isn’t,” you reply with certainty. “I've been in love with him for years, and that’s not going to change for a while.” 

“I just want you to know I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“I can’t do that to you knowing I still love him,” you disclose and hurt flashes across Seokmin’s eyes. 

“I understand.” 

“I hope so, considering you had gone on my phone behind my back and blocked his contact.” 

Shock is the best way to describe Seokmin’s reaction. He probably hadn’t realized that you figured out where his true intentions lie. But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but stand your ground. 

Seokmin doesn’t deserve to be in your presence right now, especially after he took advantage of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seokmin tries to respond nonchalantly, but his eyes frantically avoid your gaze. 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you grit, your knuckles were straining from how hard you gripped onto your phone. Displacing your anger before it was shot full throttle and onto Seokmin’s face.

“Fine. You caught me. But there wasn’t any other way for you to forget him if you kept in contact with him. Even if you weren’t explicitly answering his texts.” 

Standing up and stalking over to your door, you open it to usher Seokmin out of the home. 

“That’s for me to decide. Not you. Now please leave.” 

Without much defiance, Seokmin leaves, evidently hurt by your anger towards him. The frown on his face deepened while he grabbed all his things, and walked out your door.

 As he leaves, he utters his last words, clearly miffed by your decision to kick him out. 

“I may be in love with you just as much as you are with Wonwoo, but at least I’m not dumb enough to go back to someone who obviously doesn’t give a shit about me. Your life will get easier when you stop being an idiot and start seeing how bad he is for you.” 

… 

The unsavoury memories of earlier had you deep in thought, especially after the statement Seokmin had made. He was supposed to be your safe space, but he ruined it with his need to cut Wonwoo out of your life for you. Yet there was clear wisdom to what he had said. Wonwoo only complicated your life and feelings further.  

Everything would be so simple if it were Seokmin instead, and you acknowledge that. But your heart didn’t seek out his touch the way it did with Wonwoo. 

 Seokmin let his feelings get in the way of what could’ve been the start of something good. If only he hadn’t done what he did, maybe if he had just given you more time to heal, things between the two of you would be different. Although the friendship with Seokmin had turned sour, he still deserves someone who would love him unconditionally, it just wasn’t you. 

 Wonwoo was the person you truly wanted, and although the break and argument between you two were enlightening, you cannot deny how right he is about Seokmin. 

You also cannot deny how much you still miss him. 

Can’t Get You.

chapter one. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost so much of myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you.” 

You are an enigma inside Wonwoo’s mind, and it was the first time in a while that he had experienced deep regret and grief. Forcing himself into your home to accuse you all because of his resentment towards Seokmin, he couldn’t have been less irrational. And now he had to face the consequences of his actions.  

Sleepless night after sleepless night, he had no way to make up for what he had done to you. Years of cluelessly assuming that you only ever saw him as a friend, of using you as a crutch for his anguish. He had been so unfair, and there's a sense of exasperation he cannot disenthrall. 

Wonwoo is supposed to be your friend as much as you were his, but he dared to treat you as his therapist, his support system. If he hadn’t been so blind to your feelings, none of this would’ve happened. Maybe he would’ve been able to reciprocate your feelings earlier if he had known that you were in love with him this whole time. 

The buzz of a notification illuminates his dim bedroom, the light of his screen creating shadows that harboured his contrition. He had half the mind to answer, but after what he had said to you that day, he knew it wasn’t going to be you. 

Wonwoo decided to take a look anyway. 

[12:09 a.m.] 

[darling <3: you were right about seokmin]

[darling <3: that doesn’t mean i forgive u. i just thot id let u know]

With his heartbeat hammering inside his chest, Wonwoo couldn’t contain his elation. It’s been so long since he’d seen your name on his phone screen, and despite the context not being ideal, he decided to look at the brighter side. 

Although he’s not sure what had gone down between you and Seokmin, Wonwoo couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he knows is that he was right to warn you, and he has a chance to have you all for himself once again. Without the worry of Seokmin interrupting his plans.

[12:10 a.m.] 

[wons <3: i’ve missed you, darling] 

[wons <3: i know i’ve been a bad friend in the past, but i want to show u that i can change. please]

[wons <3: i promise, i'm going to be better]

Desperation was never Wonwoo’s thing, but if it meant having you in his arms once again, then nothing else matters. If he’s perceived as pathetic for trying to gain your trust again, then so be it. 

Eyes glued to his phone screen, he observes how your grey chat bubble appears and disappears again. The anticipation of what you’re going to say next has Wonwoo on the edge of his bed, wishing he could just peer into your mind, to catch a mere glimpse into what you’re thinking. 

[12:14 a.m.] [darling <3: 👍] 

There’s an immediate drop in Wonwoo’s smile, he’s never experienced you acting indifferent towards him. The feeling is so foreign he has no choice but to find some way to get rid of it. You had given a sliver of hope just by texting him, and that was all he needed. Wonwoo is your best friend, he knows you better than anyone, he knows you better than Seokmin. 

Apathetic towards the lengths he may have to go to to bring you back into his life, Wonwoo is determined to make you forgive him. Even if it meant abandoning his pride or his ego, he didn’t care anymore. Everything else is meaningless if you’re not his. 

two. 

The next time Wonwoo is forced to be in a room with Seokmin is the day Jeonghan decides to have an impromptu study session in the library. Unbeknownst to him, the person he has grown to hate would be there too. The tension was increasingly palpable to the point that both Jeonghan and Leigh found it difficult to focus on their work. 

“Why are you here?” Wonwoo queried with a scrutinizing gaze. 

The sound of uncomfortable shuffling is pronounced within the long pause of Seokmin and Wonwoo’s staredown. And Jeonghan gives Leigh a look of curiosity with a hint of confusion. They were obviously under the impression that the two of them were good friends, especially because no one had a clue about what happened between them. 

“Jeonghan invited me to study, why? Is it illegal for me to be here?” Seokmin quipped, evidently unamused by Wonwoo’s presence. 

Wonwoo scoffs, chair legs scraping against the hardwood as he takes his seat. 

“It should be.” 

Seokmin huffs before crossing his arms over his chest, taking a guarded stance. Various textbooks cluttered around the table, long forgotten in favour of watching Seokmin and Wonwoo bicker. 

“What’s up with those two?” Jeonghan whispers in Leigh’s ear, which the latter only shrugs in response. 

Wonwoo and Seokmin were lost in their world of conflict, and neither paid attention to their two observers. They were both ready to pull out bowls of popcorn amid their studying, which seemed more entertaining than whatever they were reading earlier. 

“Not sure. I bet you ten dollars it has something to do with you know who…,” Leigh whispers back, obviously amused by his friends' clear disdain for each other. 

“I’ll bet you ten dollars and a kiss Wonwoo did something to piss off Seokmin,” Jeonghan challenges his deal. 

Leigh giggles at how Jeonghan takes every opportunity to flirt with him but agrees to his wager anyway. 

“What does a kiss have to do with any of this?” 

“Nothing, I just wanted to give you one,” Jeonghan shrugs. 

Their conversation is cut off by Seokmin’s need to curse out Wonwoo, standing up from the table only to poke his finger into the elder's chest. 

“I hope you know that if you pursue her, you’ll only end up hurting her,” Seokmin accused, causing Wonwoo to flare with outrage.

Wonwoo isn’t pleased by Seokmin’s intrepid need to provoke him. From what you texted him the other day, it’s unmistakably clear that he has the upper hand. This means that Seokmin’s vexation is only a projection of the fact that his plan has gone awry. 

“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a manipulative bitch, she wouldn’t have come back running to me,” Wonwoo smirks, the realization in Seokmin’s eyes is nothing but confirmation that he struck a nerve. 

Seokmin is left baffled by Wonwoo’s statement, “You seriously cannot be talking right now.”

“Oh, but I am. I may have done wrong before, but at least I know how to get her back,” Wonwoo retorted.  

Thankfully, the library wasn’t traditional in the sense that students had to be quiet while using the space. Most passersby' barely batted an eyelash as the two men were raised from their seats while in a heated argument. 

The bitter taste in Wonwoo’s mouth only intensified the more time he wasted quarrelling with Seokmin. There are better things he can do with his time, like finding a way for you to forgive him. But he can’t help that every time he lays eyes on Seokmin, the only thing he can think of doing is socking his so-called friend in the face. 

“We’ll see who she ends up with in the end, and I’ll make sure it isn’t you,” Wonwoo finalizes. 

Deciding that he is done exchanging words with Seokmin, he leaves before he wastes any more of his time. The bag hooked on his shoulder was still unopened since their fight started before he could even retrieve his things. Harsh footsteps echo throughout the bustling library, and Wonwoo makes it his mission to find you. To have you in his hold before Seokmin could even think of getting near you. 

…

Three o’clock. On Wednesdays, your anthropology lecture always ends at three o’clock. Wonwoo knew you wouldn’t be pleased to see him inside the arts building, waiting right outside the lecture hall. But he had to take his chance, or else Seokmin might find a way to weasel into your life once again. Just the thought of it made Wonwoo’s ears flare red. No one deserves to have you as much as he did. 

The rush of students begins to trickle into the hallway, and he spots the top of your head before you stray too far away. With a shout of your name, he watches as you try to find the voice that has been calling out for you. 

Suddenly, the world around Wonwoo lacks colour as his gaze sets upon you. Standing there, you shine brightly, and Wonwoo couldn’t care less how stupid he looked while trying to gain your attention. The people around him are nothing but blockages that stop him from being able to grab onto you. Your expression is filled with curiosity as he waves his hand, beckoning you closer to him. Despite the obvious conflicting thoughts that are running through your head, Wonwoo knows you won’t be able to resist him. 

As you near, Wonwoo almost sighs with content, hearing your voice for the first time since that night. 

“What are you doing here?” 

The two of you wedged into one of the corners, waiting for the crowd to thin out. Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo pulls you against him. Your back is flush with the wall; the rest of the students push past the both of you to get to their next class or to go home. 

“Wanted to be the one to give you a ride home,” Wonwoo mutters truthfully, but he knows that’s not why you’re asking. 

He watches the way you gulp, trying not to get caught up in the heat of his body. You’re so close to him that if he makes one slight movement he could end up kissing you. The feathery breath you let out almost causes Wonwoo to forget what he’s meant to be doing. Enamoured by your soft pink lips and how the heat on your cheeks intensifies with each passing moment. He simply can’t take his eyes off you. 

It seems as though you're making Wonwoo fall for you without even realizing it. 

The delightful scrunch in your brow only leaves him tingling, satisfied with the fact that you two are in such proximity after everything that happened. Although Wonwoo knows he has a long way to go to gain your forgiveness, he allows himself to enjoy the smaller moments with you while he can. 

“I can walk,” you retort, recoiling out of his grasp before walking over to the exit. 

“Walking is fine too,” Wonwoo attested, catching up with your fast pace. 

“Alone,” you reiterate. 

Wonwoo is amused by your direct attempt to get him to leave you alone. He almost laughs, you should know him well enough by now. What Wonwoo wants, he gets, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad at him. He’s confident enough in himself to know that he’s capable of making you fall for him all over again. 

If there’s one thing Wonwoo is unmistakably good at, it’s the chase. 

With his experience, it doesn’t take much for you to be perched right back into his palm. You’re a woman after all. The only difference between you and everyone else is that Wonwoo can envision a future with you in it, which has always been hard for him to do. But with you, Wonwoo can only wish that he could live till he’s a thousand if it meant that he could spend the rest of that time with you. 

“Please darling, let me take you home,” Wonwoo begs, his slender fingers grasped against your wrist. “You’re probably tired from walking around campus all day.” 

He could practically see the way the gears were turning in your head like you couldn’t decipher his underlying motives, and he couldn’t help but grin at your obvious overthinking.

“Fine, but you’re giving me a ride. That’s it.” 

The smile on Wonwoo’s face widens as you try to act uninterested, but he knows deep down your resolve is beginning to weaken.  

three. 

Wonwoo can only surmise that his plan has been taking effect. Not only have you been less reluctant to agree to him giving you a ride to and from school, but you’ve also been replying to his texts more frequently. Albeit they haven’t been the same long and sporadic messages you used to send, Wonwoo can’t seem to complain.

[5:05 p.m.]  [wons <3: u got home alright darling?] [darling <3: u drove me home.] [wons <3: ik. but i still wanna ask] [darling <3: i should be asking u that] [darling <3: not that i care tho] [wons <3: sure u dont]  [darling <3: i don't! now bye i have to study for my quiz tmrw]  [wons <3: okayy wtv helps u sleep at night 😆]  [wons <3: dont study too hard. ill pick u up tmrw at the same time ok?]  [darling <3: 👍] 

Smiling like a kid on Christmas, Wonwoo can’t help but feel the rush of butterflies flutter in his stomach. He can tell you’re trying to put on a detached facade, but your caring nature seems to be slipping through the cracks. 

His plan to slowly reinstate himself into your life seems to be working. Even though he understands it won’t happen overnight, Wonwoo doesn’t mind waiting for you to forgive him. At least he knows that he’s one step closer than Seokmin ever will be. 

…

“Good morning,” Wonwoo greets you, moving to the side to open the door. 

As you slip into the passenger seat, he realizes how much he misses you sitting beside him. You were always in your world while he drove, staring at the window reading all the signs along the way, or humming softly to the lyrics of the current song playing. 

“Morning,” you mumble back, settling into your spot. 

It’s that time of the year when all the leaves start to fall off the branches. The pavement was littered with hues of brown, red, and yellow. Wonwoo loved autumn the most out of all the seasons. It reminded him of the smell of cinnamon and warm cups of tea. Most importantly, it was autumn when he first met you. 

“You ready for your quiz?” Wonwoo decides to fill the silence. 

As you turn your body, you give him a soft smile, and he knows with that expression, that you probably didn’t get much studying done the night before. He chuckles at your meek countenance, you’ve always been the type to procrastinate. 

“I know that look. Don’t worry, you’re the smartest person I know,” Wonwoo reassures you. 

The right hand he had gripping the steering wheel strays from its place, seeking your hold. Allowing himself to take a glance at you before interlocking his fingers with yours, rubbing soothing circles along your delicate skin. Sensing you freeze upon his touch, Wonwoo’s hands almost break out in a sweat, hoping you won’t pull away. And surprisingly, you don't. 

Both of you returned to a relaxed state, and he’s overjoyed that you’ve decided to allow him to touch you again. Even if it’s something as innocent as hand-holding on the way to school. Wonwoo squeezes your hand tighter, reminding himself that you’re still beside him. That you chose to be with him. 

It wasn’t long before the campus university was in Wonwoo’s view. Pulling into his parking spot, he does so without letting go of your hand once. Even when turning the gear shift into park, his hold on you has yet to be relinquished. 

There’s a pause of silence that Wonwoo decides to break. 

“I know it’s not going to be easy to forgive me, I’ve done so many things that, if I was in your position, wouldn’t have let slide. But I’m asking for a chance, just one chance to show you that I can be better,” Wonwoo confesses. 

He observes that way you take time to think, his thumb continuing to rub mindless circles into your skin. Wonwoo didn’t think he’d be so nervous to hear what you had to say, or if you would say anything at all. 

“Just be patient with me, okay?” is the only thing you end up saying. 

To Wonwoo, that’s a win. You didn’t deny his request for forgiveness, and that can only mean one thing. His plan is working just as he’d hoped. 

“Take all the time you need, darling. I just want to be close to you again,” Wonwoo reassures you, his voice stable and comforting. He searches your eyes for even an ounce of unease. 

Nodding your head, you finally loosen your hand from Wonwoo’s. As you step out of the car you leave with one final remark. 

“I'll see you after class okay?” 

That was all the assurance that Wonwoo needed. He’s convinced that he’s a step in the right direction. You’ve fallen for him once again, perhaps not fully, but soon enough you’ll be back to where the two of you had left off. 

… 

When Wonwoo gets to see you again, it’s to drop off your cognitive psych textbook. By the time he realized it was on the floor bed of his car, it was already too late to give it back to you.

As he returns to the same long hallway, he nears your apartment with a sense of unease. Flashbacks of what happened the last time he even stepped foot into the building flood his memories. Wonwoo had no reason to be nervous, especially because you’ve become more lenient about him seeing you again. But this is different, he can’t help but wonder if you’re over that night, or you’re just allowing him to enter your life again because it was easier. 

The sound of him knocking on the door reverberates through the empty hallway, and a chill shoots down his spine. Why is he so nervous? He’s been here more times than he could count, and above all that he’s only here to return your textbook. 

From the other side of the door, he can faintly hear your footsteps as you make your way over. A hand clasped around the thick spine of your book, he grips it harder as he awaits your arrival. 

“Hi?” you greet him with a puzzled expression. 

The breath in Wonwoo's throat evaporates into thin air, his eyes glued to the curve of your body. It’s the same sleep set you wore the night he saw Seokmin leave your apartment. Trapped in his mind, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Plush thighs hugged tightly by your shorts, no bra in sight, allowing your nipples to outline the satin. With a tense gulp, he knows he can’t stay for long. 

“H-hey, uh, you forgot your textbook in my car,” Wonwoo stutters, eyes raking over your figure. 

What the hell? Wonwoo’s seen you in everything under the sun, including a bathing suit. But why does this damn sleep set have him tripping over his words? 

Before he can say anything more, you move forward to grab the book from his hands. Your hair flows over your shoulder while the strap of your tank top slips down. 

Shoulders stiffening at the sight, Wonwoo really can’t stay. He might even combust into a million pieces before he can get to his car. 

“Thanks.” 

“It’s really no problem, sorry I’m here so late. You’re—” his words are cut off by your unexpected proposition.  

“You wanna come in? I’m making some tea.” 

Wonwoo is completely fucked, though he doesn’t stop himself from entering your home. 

As you turn around, Wonwoo almost lets out a strained groan. He had been lucky enough to cover it up with a cough. You shoot him a confused look over your shoulder, and he mumbles a curt “It’s nothing” before you can question him further. 

The scent of peppermint tea engulfs his senses, your favourite. It was your routine to drink a cup of tea before bed, but peppermint has always been your go-to. He only knew this because his mom always made sure to send you boxes of a loose-leaf version from your hometown. You didn’t drink any other kind. 

There’s a sway in your hips as you move over to the kitchen counter and Wonwoo’s lost in a hypnotic state. Taking a seat at the island, he watches as you grab two of the coffee mugs from your cupboard. As you move to reach for the glassware, he observes the way your shorts ride up, giving him a direct view of the curve of your ass. He felt like a pervert for staring but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

“Here, let me get them for you,” Wonwoo offers, moving behind you to retrieve the two mugs. His body is perfectly aligned with yours, he can feel you stiffen against him. 

A rough palm is placed delicately against the exposed skin of your waist. You’re so warm. Wonwoo’s brain short circuits and he almost forgets what he’s actually meant to do. He holds you tighter against him while the handles of the cups are hooked against his fingers. With as much delicateness as possible, he situates the mugs against the granite. 

The soft “thank you” that left your lips was almost too faint for either of you to hear, but due to the stillness in the atmosphere, Wonwoo heard you loud and clear. 

With reluctance, Wonwoo leaves his spot behind you to return to his seat. He continues to watch you as you prepare the tea, and he’s never been more mesmerized in his life. It was almost criminal how closely he examined your actions, but you had become so captivating. It would be rude to deny the pleasure of being able to see you again. 

“This one’s for you,” you mutter, setting the mug in front of his person. 

“Thanks.” 

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you. Your hand around your cup, savouring the tea while you scroll aimlessly on your phone. Wonwoo allows his thoughts to wander. It almost felt sinful to be inside your apartment once again, compelling him to apologize once more. 

“I know I've already said it before but, I hope you know I’m not going to let this second chance be taken for granted. What I did was wrong, and I was so angry and confused that I didn’t even think about what I was saying.” 

Looking up from your phone, a frown is apparent on your angelic face. But you don’t say anything, allowing him to continue with his admission of guilt. 

“There are so many things I could’ve done differently, but I let my anger get the best of me. You’re the most important person in my life and I don’t want to let you go. I know I’m terrible at showing how much I care but I want you to know that deep down inside of me my love for you is there. You’re my greatest friend and I was a dumbass for not treating you that way earlier on.” 

There’s a pregnant pause in the air before you respond. Wonwoo’s nerves are spiking, but he waits diligently for your reply. 

“I understand that you’re sorry. And I wish that things had gone differently. I’m sure that night was a lot for both of us. Seokmin wasn’t the person I thought he was, and it sucks that you were right but I wanna move forward. It just felt so wrong for you to assume that I was with him in that way. It hurt and it was insulting for you to talk to me that way.” 

The words that had been brewing in his mind were lost as he continued to listen to you. 

“What’s even funnier is that me and Seokmin kissed a couple of days after our fight. I’m not even sure why I did that, but I regret it. I probably just wanted to get my mind off you and all the other stuff. Honestly, I was so naive, I didn’t think Seokmin would go to such cruel lengths to manipulate me.” 

“I want to forgive you. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you either. Seokmin had put it in my head to just cut you off, and it almost felt wrong but I listened anyway. I should’ve known why he had convinced me to do all those things. I was so stupid to believe him. But I do want to fix us, I just need time.” 

To hear you talk about what Seokmin did to you, and to also find out that you two had kissed made Wonwoo’s insides churn. He felt sick at the thought of the two of you, but why? You’re his friend, he shouldn’t care about the fact that you and Seokmin shared an intimate moment. Wonwoo should only care about the fact that both he and Seokmin hurt you.

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I wish there were more ways I could show you how apologetic I am. I promise I'm going to do better.” 

There’s a glazed look over your eyes, and Wonwoo’s chest almost collapses into itself. The subtle pout on your lips causes a sigh to leave his lips. 

Standing up, he walks over to you, cooing as he deluges you into his hold. Strong arms pull you into his chest, the faint weeping coming from you almost kills him. He hates to see you sad, and what he hates even more is that he’s the one behind most of your pain. 

“I’m not going anywhere from now on. So please darling, don’t push me away anymore. I’m gonna do everything I can to show you how important you are to me,” He whispers in your ear as he runs a hand down your hair. 

Wonwoo knows how much you love it when he does that. It always calmed you down on the days you couldn’t regulate your emotions. 

Sensitive to the sad things in life yet ardent towards the things you are passionate about. You have always been a softer soul, a soul that feels everything without a care in the world. At the same time, you are a whirlwind of emotions, and different colours of sensibilities, it’s your greatest strength but also your weakness. Wonwoo admires that about you. Never afraid to feel, never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything he isn't. 

That night, Wonwoo vowed to be a better person for you. He also promised he’d never let someone like Seokmin take advantage of your kindness again. 

four. 

Despite Wonwoo’s desire to submerge his feelings into a deep void, he can’t seem to dismiss the fact that he’s slowly falling for you. It didn’t start when you had begun to ignore him, nor did it start when you decided to search for comfort in another. 

Seeking a piece of you in everyone he’s been with. It's always been in a subconscious manner, but the more he looks back on all his relationships, he’s started to realize that the one thing that was missing was you.

Falling in love with you was gradual. 

In the same way, the tides along the shore would slowly pull the sand back into the ocean. In the same way, the seasons changed from summer to winter. Wonwoo’s love for you is like autumn leaves. Shades of green morph into the familiar, comforting, yellow, red, and brown. Their descent from their branches slowed, dwindling with the breeze before they ultimately hit the ground. Before he knew it, autumn had begun. 

Before he knew it, he was in love. 

Everything over the past month had just been a wake-up call. Slowly rising from an insomnious state, he began to find clarity in his past actions, in his reasons for wondering why none of the relationships worked out in his favour. No one understood him the way you did, and no one understood you the way he did. And he had been foolish enough to not act upon those realizations sooner.  

… 

Wonwoo ached to see you again. To be close to you, with your scent filling his nostrils, your warmth engulfing him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Yet he sat in the library trying to make sense of his pending assignment. Mingyu sits across from him, looking close to slamming his forehead with his textbook. 

Wonwoo couldn’t care less about regression to the mean or whatever it is his statistics professor is trying to teach him. Every second that passed his mind would end up wandering to thoughts of you. That night in your apartment, the whiff of peppermint tea, your arms around him as he held you close. Desperation is a dangerous emotion, for it only made him want to close his laptop and rush to your side. 

Why didn’t he just fess up about his feelings for you right then and there? He could’ve done it, but his intuition stopped him. From the start of you finally letting him back into your life, neither of you brought up your confession of being in love with him. The prospect of him even acknowledging the subject has Wonwoo believing it wouldn’t end the way he hopes. 

Attempting to suppress his curious thoughts, he’s afraid of you denying everything you disclosed to him that night. He didn’t want you to renounce your declaration of love under the guise of anger or the heat of the moment. The only thing he wanted from you now was the truth. 

“Well, you look a lot better than you did last time we were here,” Mingyu speaks up. 

Taken out of his trance, Wonwoo lifts his head from the screen of his laptop. An involuntary chuckle erupts from his chest. Despite his muddled thoughts, Mingyu is right. He looks and feels a lot better than he did before. 

“A lot of shit happened, but yeah, I guess you can say that.” 

“Hmm, let me guess. You two made up?” Mingyu doesn’t beat around the bush. 

Wonwoo is aware that Mingyu’s probably only asking to remedy his curiosity, or so he could update Kalia about the situation, but he doesn’t care. If anything, he wants everyone to know that he won you over instead of Seokmin. 

“Yeah, kinda? I don’t know. I’m trying my best to be better for her though,” Wonwoo lets out a half-hearted sigh. 

Mingyu looked at him with curiosity, and Wonwoo knew that expression a little too well. It was the ‘since when were you the type of person to change for a girl’ look. His friend didn’t have to say much for him to understand what Mingyu was attempting to convey. 

“You’re serious?” Mingyu presses, a lilt of doubt in his tone of voice. 

“Yeah, I'm serious. Never been more serious in my life,” Wonwoo scoffs, he already knows where this conversation is heading. 

Mingyu didn’t seem to buy it though, eyes rolling as he leaned back in his chair. Wonwoo crosses his arms defensively, it is typical for Mingyu to wonder where his true intentions lie. His track record wasn’t the best when it came to girls, unlike Mr. Perfect across from him. 

Mingyu knew how to deal with relationships, he’s practically married to Kalia at this point. 

Wonwoo, on the other hand, tended to obsess for a few months before inevitably breaking things off. It’s practically second nature for him to do so, but this is different. It's you. And Wonwoo knew that meant more to him despite his old habits. 

“Be for real man, I know you. Are you sure this isn’t the same as the last hundred times you’ve liked someone?” 

“Like? I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.” 

Mingyu’s eyes go wide, Wonwoo has never dropped the L–word on his friend before. Not about Haein, or any of the other girls he’s dated. 

“Woah. That's different,” Mingyu lets out a low-whistle. 

“That's what I mean. We’re not talking about just some other girl who I find interesting. This is my best friend,” Wonwoo continues to defend himself. 

It felt weird to say those words out loud for someone else to hear, but Mingyu was the only person Wonwoo didn’t feel insecure talking to despite the fact he practically criticized him during the last study session. Wonwoo needs to let his feelings out into the world, and Mingyu is willing to listen. 

“Okay, you’ve convinced me, but you better not fuck it up. I won’t punch you but I know Kalia would,” Mingyu shrugs, and he’s right. Kalia would beat him up. 

Wonwoo snorts at Mingyu’s remark, “Your girlfriend is scary.” 

“She is. Just don’t be a dumbass and she won’t kill you. You know how much Kalia cares about her.” 

“Seems like everyone does. Seokmin cares a little too much,” Wonwoo huffs, thinking back to what you had told him the last time he saw you. 

“Ah. I heard about that,” Mingyu smirks. 

Wonwoo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stick up. He didn’t particularly like the idea of you and Seokmin together. In all honesty, he doesn’t even want to see him within a hundred feet of your person. Wonwoo had half the mind to beat him to a pulp for how he hurt you, and he’s sure that Seokmin feels the same way about him. The only difference was that you had a clear choice, and Wonwoo came out on top. 

“I can’t believe him actually. He’s dead to me,” Wonwoo scowls, hating the bitter taste Seokmin’s name leaves on his tongue. 

“Dude… Seokmin is still our friend,” Mingyu attempts to mediate, like the soft-hearted man he is, but Wonwoo doesn’t care. 

“No. He’s your friend. What he did is fucked up, even for me. His dumbass is not stepping a foot near her, not if I have any say in the matter.” 

Hot on his heels, Wonwoo packs his belongings and exits the library with flames blazing his trail. Mingyu still sits there dumbfounded, recovering from the shock of his friend's crass declaration. 

five. 

[12:11 p.m.] [wons <3: meet me at our spot? i have a surprise :)]

Pacing back and forth, Wonwoo waits for you at the aforementioned spot. It’s a hidden corner on campus you two found in your first year. There were multiple wooden picnic tables scattered around the lawn of green grass, but no one seemed to come to this side of the university. It had been an alcove of secludedness for the two of you since that day. Wonwoo had spent most of his lunch breaks eating here with you when the crowds of students got too overwhelming. 

Deciding it wasn’t doing him any good walking back and forth like a madman, he takes a seat at the table you both claimed for yourselves. Even with the abundance of available picnic tables, neither of you ever sat anywhere else. The table’s location had always been perfect. Right under a large oak tree that had just the right amount of shade yet a prime amount of sunlight. The leaves had already shed, and there was no protection from the rays, but Wonwoo settled in his unassigned seat anyway. 

Inspecting the food he bought you, he made sure that it was still warm enough for you to eat. Two grilled pork banh mi’s with extra pickled vegetables wrapped securely within the plastic bag, your favourite. 

Wonwoo had no reason to buy it for you, other than the fact that as he was leaving the library in a sour mood, he was able to snag the last two from the dining hall. Thinking about the look you would have on your face once you got here made him smile to himself. So without a second thought, he paid for the sandwiches before sending you a text. 

“So what's the surprise?” 

Ears perking, Wonwoo whips his head over in the direction of your sweet voice. Skin glowing in the sunlight, he admires you with a lopsided smile. You look so good today, almost too good. The black skirt you wore flounced with each step you took, while your cardigan hung low on your shoulders. 

He wishes he could have you only for himself, finding it unfair that everyone else in the whole damn world got to admire how gorgeous you are, including himself. Wonwoo doesn’t get tired of looking at you, it’s like a breath of fresh air each time. 

“Hi, darling. There were only two left,” he nudged his head, motioning to the plastic bag that you are very familiar with. 

With glowing eyes, you let out a squeal of delight. Wonwoo knew he did something right for once. 

“Oh my god. How did you know I was craving these today? I was thinking about it all morning,” you gush, rushing over to open the bag that held your most prized possession.

“I didn’t, but I know you’d never say no to your favourite,” he chuckles. 

You didn’t even get to take a proper seat before diving into the banh mi. 

“I forgot to pack a lunch today,” you bubbled, mouth still half full with food. 

Wonwoo continues to grin, pleased with himself that something small like this brings you so much happiness. Tutting, he jokingly scolds you, wiping the cilantro that stuck to your cheek. 

“You shouldn’t talk when your mouth is full darling, you’ll choke.” 

Rolling your eyes at him, you swallow your food and take a sip of water before continuing with the conversation. 

“I woke up late today and forgot to make something for lunch, so thank you for this, I was starving,” you beam up at him, sitting cross-legged on the bench. 

“It’s a good thing I’m here then, right?” He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, not wanting it to get in the way of your eating. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” you mumble before taking another bite. “Fuck this is so good right now, you don’t even know.” 

Wonwoo hums, amused with your reaction before unwrapping his sandwich. Admiring his view of you, he continues to listen to you talk about how you’re absolutely in the trenches for your next cognitive psychology midterm. 

“I’m so screwed. I can’t seem to properly memorize the theories, especially the one about Piaget’s stages. It keeps getting mixed up in my head,” you mutter in between bites. 

“I wish I could help, but you're the psych major,” Wonwoo shrugs, bemused at how your cheeks resemble those of a hamster. 

“True. Enough about school, my head hurts just thinking about it,” you sigh. 

“Alright. No school. Do you have plans for the weekend, at least?” Wonwoo asks. 

Your eyes lit up at his question, and you were ready to divulge what you had going on for the end of the week. Midterms were only a few days away, and everyone was so high-strung about them. Wonwoo knew you just wanted it to be over. You’ve always been the type to hate preparing for exams. 

“Well, June, Lynne, Leigh, and I are hitting up Raval on Friday. We wanted to celebrate the start of the mid-term break,” you explain. “You can join us if you want.” 

Before either you or Wonwoo could get another word in, his phone rings obnoxiously on the table. His mom’s caller ID flashes across his screen before he accepts the call, propping it up so the both of you are within the camera lens. 

“Hi mama!” you wave excitedly, Wonwoo’s mom smiling back at you. 

There wasn’t much he was grateful for in life, but the fact that you and his mom were so close was one of those things. 

“Hey ma, what’s up?” Wonwoo greets her, the grin on his face widening. 

“Hi, my babies. I just wanted to say hi!” His mom waves her hand at the camera, trying to stay in the frame. 

“Dear, did you get your box of peppermint tea?” she asks you, Wonwoo’s gaze returning to your beautiful smile. No words could explain the happiness he felt seeing you talk to his mom. 

“Yes mama, I did, thank you so much! I’ve been drinking it every night,” you assure her, sending her flying kisses through the phone. 

“Wonwoo, treat her well while you guys are away, got it? I just wanted to check on you both real quick,” his mom chattered through the speaker. 

“Yes, ma, I know. We’re eating lunch, but I’ll call you when I get home. Love you,” Wonwoo feigns annoyance but still tells her he loves her. 

“Bye, mama! Love you,” you bid her farewell, the call beeping indicating that Wonwoo had hung up. 

For the rest of Wonwoo’s lunch break, the two of you ate your banh mi in comfortable silence. There was a silent agreement of eating and just enjoying the view of the secret spot that Wonwoo shares with you. With everyone else gone, it was perfect. 

If Wonwoo could have any superpower in the world, it would be able to stop time. He yearns for this moment to last forever. Enjoying your company in a secluded part of campus, where there’s no one to bother you, no one to question your friendship.   

He longs for more days with you like this, away from the noise, away from distractions that cause his attention to stray away from who he cares about. He only needs one thing in his life to truly feel fulfilled, and it's you.  

act three, Hold Me by the Heart. 

chapter one. 

Despite the reconciliation between you and Wonwoo, you still find yourself doubting his actions. Did he want to change for the sake of your friendship? Or was he only putting effort knowing you had almost slipped through his fingertips? 

Warmth enveloped you every time he was around, every time he gave you small words of affirmation. Even with all these signs of growth from him, you still had that vexing churn in your gut. 

That swirl of intuition felt like you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. As much as you hate not being able to trust your best friend completely, apprehension continues to gnaw at your insides. 

“Hey? You still in there?” June interrupts your train of thought, waving her hand in front of your gaze. 

“I thought you and Wonwoo made up?” She continued to press for answers, which was typical of her. 

“We did,” you sigh, taking a sip of your Long Island iced tea. 

“Then why the long face?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just thinking too hard,” you chuckle, although there’s no humour behind it. 

June mirrors your expression, frowning alongside you as she pats your back, trying to get you out of your forlorn state. 

“That calls for another drink!” She attempts to lighten the mood, her pointer fingers poking at your smile lines, forcing a grin to grace your lips. 

Rolling your eyes at her, you agree to her proposition. Not wanting to waste your weekend on immutable thoughts of Wonwoo. He’s the only person who could make you sit around a room full of people and still feel like something, or rather, someone, was missing. 

In the back of your mind, you wonder if he remembers the confession you accidentally spilled during your fight. In the midst of all the anger, the pent-up frustration, you deliberate whether he still remembers the fleeting “I love you” that left your trembling lips that night. 

Before you could blink, June was already back in her seat. A tray of shot glasses filled with brown liquor. There was enough for everyone to take at least two. Although you know it’s not a good idea to get drunk with the negative thoughts floating within your mind, you choose to ignore your rationality for one night. 

“Wonwoo still may be an asshole, but if he makes you happy, who am I to judge?” Leigh speaks up from his seat, knocking back the shot glass till it’s empty. 

A small giggle leaves your lips, duplicating his actions and swallowing the alcohol in one go. 

“So what is the deal with you and Wonwoo now? I feel like every time I see you, he’s right behind you like some kind of brooding bodyguard,” Lynne queries, ready for you to fess up. 

The breath you take in is sharp, not knowing where to even start. The past month has gone by in a blur, too many events happening in such a short amount of time. You couldn’t even process it properly yourself, let alone recite all that has gone down to your friends. 

“Well, I may have texted him after that incident with Seokmin. And after that, it just snowballed. He started driving me to school again, eating lunch with me, apologizing every chance he got. I-I don’t even know anymore,” you inhale, not realizing that you have barely taken a chance to breathe. 

“Interesting…” Lynne mumbles, tapping on her chin as if she is deep in thought. 

“He’s just become more considerate. I don’t know why he’s decided to change, but I can’t complain because I can see the change,” you continue, defending him. After all, you knew your friends didn’t see him in a particularly positive light. 

There was a pause in the air, everyone sitting at the table still processing your defence. Even if they still hate him, you don’t really care. Yes, you care for their opinions, and you cherish their affection for you, but Wonwoo deserves a second chance in your eyes. 

“I mean… Isn’t the reason he’s even acting like this because he hated seeing you with Seokmin?” Leigh disputes, and you frown. 

There’s truth behind his statement. Wonwoo only noticed your absence because you had started hanging out with Seokmin more. But it worked in your favour, so can you even be mad? 

“Maybe. Honestly, I don’t think I care about his reasons. He's trying and that’s all that should matter, right?” you mutter, taking another shot from the tray. 

The looks on your friends’ faces say more about what they want to say to you than their words ever could. You’re disregarding Wonwoo’s toxic behaviour in hopes that this new chapter with him is more than just some facade. 

“Oh, that’s not…” Leigh whispers under his breath but doesn’t say more. 

They know they can’t change your mind. 

[11:17 p.m.]  [wons <3: still out with your friends?] 

Your screen's brightness illuminates the bar's dim lighting, bringing everyone's attention to the bubble with Wonwoo’s name clearly on display. 

“Speaking of the devil,” Lynne shakes her head as she nurses the drink in her hand. 

[11:18 p.m.] [darling <3: yeahh, we’ll probably head home after a few rounds, why?]  [wons <3: jw. have fun darling]  [darling <3: thx! ]

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather we drink till I forget everything from midterms instead of talking about Wonwoo,” June pipes up, disrupting the silence that had enveloped your group. 

As she calls for someone to bring more shots to your table, you quietly smile to yourself. Wonwoo usually was not one to text first, but it’s different now. Even if everyone else can’t stand him, you can’t help but feel the exact opposite. 

There’s a hum of agreement, and everything becomes a blur after that. The constant flow of alcohol forces you to focus on what’s in front of you. Wandering thoughts of Wonwoo are brought to a halt as you feel yourself slipping into a drunken state. 

… 

“Jun! My boyfriend is here!” June exclaims, practically walking sideways outside of Raval. It’s deep into the night at this point and your friend decided that the best person to call was her boyfriend. 

As she sways on the sidewalk, your two other friends hold you up in an attempt to keep you from falling face-first into the cement. Despite how late it was, there were still cars bustling past on the street. Jun’s car idling as he tries his best to help his girlfriend into the passenger side. 

The university town is still alive with students entering and exiting outside of the bars and restaurants as everyone celebrates the end of the week. You can only wish for Wonwoo to be here with you, but you knew he wasn’t the type to go to bars this late, opting to stay up playing League on his computer instead. 

“Hey babe, if you want, you can call Wonwoo to come pick you up,” Lynne speaks to you soothingly, obviously not as intoxicated as you are. “You’ve been mumbling his name for like ten minutes now.” 

“Wonwoo? Is he here?” 

“No. But I’m going to call him so he can get you,” she gives you a tight smile.

Pulling out your phone from her purse, and bringing the screen to your face. You widen your eyes, moving your head closer to the camera. A lopsided smile sneaks its way onto your lips as it unlocks. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? She’s fucking gone,” Leigh chastises his sister. 

Lynne gives him an exasperated look, shrugging her shoulders. Her brother rolls his eyes in return, both defeated. They know they can’t stop you from wanting Wonwoo, plus he’s the only one who knows the code to your apartment. You’re too drunk to even unlock your phone, let alone press buttons on the keypad of your door lock. 

Hell, you can’t even stand without falling aimlessly to the ground. 

“Wonwoo? It’s Lynne. Can you come to Raval?” you barely register your friend's voice, looking off into the distance. Hoping that Wonwoo would magically appear any second from now. 

The call is dropped and they manoeuvre you onto the bench outside the entrance of the bar. Head flopping onto Leigh’s shoulder, you close your eyes. Maybe the next time you open them, Wonwoo will be standing right in front of you. 

What felt like seconds were actually ten minutes to your slightly more sober friends. Jun and June waiting diligently beside their car waiting for Wonwoo to finally arrive as the other two are constantly trying to keep you upright. 

When they agreed to have a few more shots, they didn’t expect you to take another five along with two more long islands. Regretful for their lack of heed, they had forgotten how much of a lightweight you are. 

“Oh! Fucking finally, I swear he drives like a Grandpa,” Leigh scoffs, seeing Wonwoo’s car pull up behind Jun’s. 

“Where is she?” Wonwoo's voice bellows, and it’s as if he’s near. 

With your eyes still sealed shut, you mumble incoherently to Leigh, “It’s like he’s right here. Am I that drunk that I’m imagining things?” 

“Oh my god… take her home please,” Leigh doesn’t answer your question and you’re slightly offended. 

“Hey!” you pout, finally opening your eyes as you feel someone tug you away from your source of heat. 

Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, a broad chest is the only thing within your line of sight. 

“Excuse me! I’m waiting for my Wonwoo to come and pick me up,” you squeak, slapping the chest of whoever is trying to take you away from your friends. 

There’s a collective groan behind you. 

“She’s wasted.” Lynne sighs to her brother while he nods in agreement.

“Your Wonwoo?” A familiar voice has you stopping in your tracks. 

Looking up at the once faceless person who was dragging you away, you find yourself face to face with the man you had been yearning for all night. 

“Woah. You look just like him,” bemused with the stranger in front of you. 

Squinting your eyes, your palm traces along his structured jaw. The tips of your finger poking at his cheek affirm your suspicions. He felt very real under your touch. Every line and freckle is scarily alike to your Wonwoo. 

“Like who?” 

“My Wonwoo.” 

The man’s chuckle vibrates deeply against your side. The same side where he has you pinned to his chest. A smug expression is plastered on his face as he watches you with intrigue. 

“I believe there’s only one Wonwoo,” he argues. 

“I disagree,” you huff as he pats your head, ushering you to his car.

 Unsure of why you’re even following some random is beyond you at that moment. All you could think about is texting Wonwoo once you’re safely tucked into bed. 

“Thanks for giving me a call, she hasn’t been answering her phone,” Wonwoo bids farewell to your friends as they start to pile into Jun’s car. 

“At least you can see why she hasn’t been texting you back. We might’ve given her too much to drink,” Lynne shakes her head as she chuckles at your drunken state. 

“If my opinion matters, I think I had the perfect amount,” you butt in, wanting your friends to know that you can still kind of register what they’re saying. 

“Right…” Leigh speaks up. “Anyway, we’re going to leave now that you’re here. Make sure she gets home safe!” 

“Will do,” Wonwoo promises, waving them off as Jun drives away. 

Glowering, you take a second look at him. How weird is it that a Wonwoo look-alike exists?  

The street lights that line the sidewalk cause your vision to go in and out periodically. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that the man in front of you was the real deal. But you did know better, and you would’ve recognized your Wonwoo from a mile away. 

“I think it’s time that we get you home,” Wonwoo smirks down at you, reaffirming the grip he has on your waist. 

“How do you know where I live?” You interrogate him, finding it weird that this man would have your address in the first place. 

“That’s a secret that will be revealed later, darling,” He teases, opening the door to his car so you can take a seat. 

Once he’s on the driver's side, Wonwoo adjusts your seatbelt so it’s not uncomfortable during the ride. The warmth of his arm brings you to snuggle against it, looking up at him with a coy smile. 

“You know, for a fake Wonwoo, you’re pretty cute.” 

“Fake Wonwoo?” 

“Yeah, real Wonwoo wouldn’t come all this way just to pick me up,” you sigh, pulling away from his warmth to stare out the window dramatically. 

“I think he would.” 

Laughing at his statement you roll your eyes. The person in front of you didn’t know your best friend like you did. 

“How would you know?” You bite back. If anyone could win the ‘I know Wonwoo more than you’ contest, it's you. 

“That’s also a secret.” 

Slouching back into your seat you huff out a breath of air once again, “Why do you have to have so many secrets?” 

“Because.” 

“It’s a secret?” you counter. You had a feeling that would be his answer anyway. 

“See? You’re finally getting it,” he gives you a cheesy smile, pinching your cheek. 

Slapping his hand away, you’re offended at how endeared he is with you. The only thing on your mind was the softness of your comforter and the warm mint tea that you knew you were going to have later. 

“Just take me home,” you sneer, shifting your whole body away from the driver’s side. Thighs pressed against the door, your brattiness starting to peek through your insobriety. 

“Hey, hey, don’t be like that,” Wonwoo pouts, lip jutting out as his eyes sparkle under the city lights. 

You don’t budge, body firmly pressed against the plastic of the car door. Arms crossed as you feign annoyance at him. 

“You know, I get really scared driving at night. I think I need you to hold my hand.” 

With a sense of reluctance, you offer your hand to him. Unsure of what has you agreeing to his request, you can’t say no to someone so handsome. Wonwoo interlaces his fingers with yours, and it surprises you how well your palm fits into his, allowing him to rest your intertwined hands on your lap.  

The ride back to your apartment is peaceful for the most part. The wistful city lights calm the drumming beat of your heart. Everything moves past in a blur; you can’t help but admire the cars driving past, time slowing down with the music lulling through the radio speakers. 

Serenity is the best way to describe the time you spend sitting next to Wonwoo on the drive towards your place. 

“I wonder if the real Wonwoo is thinking about me right now,” you mumble, still staring out the window. 

Wonwoo’s hand still entwined with yours, he hums along with the music, the other one on the steering wheel. Initially, you thought he didn’t hear what you had said, but he ended up replying to you. 

“I know he is.” 

Turning in your seat, you look at him, analyzing his side profile as he stares ahead. There’s yet another frown that settles into the fine line of your face, how could he possibly know whether or not Wonwoo is thinking about you? 

“You don’t know that,” you speak with a sour tone. 

“I do though,” he counters with a glance towards you. 

“How?” 

Disgruntled at his amusement, you know he’s just going to say it’s another one of his secrets, which you’re starting to get sick and tired of. Why can’t he just tell you? It’s not like you’ll see him after today. 

“Nevermind. You’re just going to say it’s a secret,” you grumble but still hold onto his hand. 

For whatever reason, you become engrossed in the view of your hands linked together. His slender fingers and clean nails had you intrigued. You had a feeling that you looked silly just staring at his hand in yours, but there was no helping it. 

Fake Wonwoo has nice hands. 

“You have pretty hands,” you tell him, no filter left within you due to your lack of sobriety. 

“Thank you,” he grins, tightening his grasp on you. 

The drive felt longer than you’re used to, but you decided to blame everything on the alcohol. 

“Are we almost there yet?” 

“Yes darling, just a few more minutes,” he answers you, rubbing small circles on the side of your thumb.

Another five minutes felt more like a year, but you couldn’t complain. Your seat was comfortable, the heater was at the right temperature and Wonwoo’s hold brought you solace. 

“We’re here. I’m gonna help you out okay? So just sit pretty and I’ll get you,” Wonwoo explains, and your cheeks burn from his indirect compliment. 

“Okay.” 

A few seconds pass and the door opens, his tall figure slouching down to grab you by your waist. He circles behind your back before leaning over to undo the seatbelt. It was almost too affectionate for a stranger, but something inside you had you leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about walking. I’ll carry you.” 

You don’t respond to him, instead, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and hold onto him even tighter. Breathing in his cologne, you smell the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s cologne. Your olfactory senses take in the aroma of rose and pear. 

Lazy Sunday Morning. It was your favourite out of all the perfumes he owns. 

Closing your eyes, you allow Wonwoo to carry you inside your apartment. The sound of buttons beeping at the front of the entrance, and the warmth of his body, almost entranced you into a slumber. But you didn’t want the fantasy to end, you didn’t want this version of Wonwoo to slip out of your grasp. 

Nose nuzzling into the dip between his neck and shoulder, you make yourself comfortable as he stands inside the elevator, you in his arms, waiting to ascend to your floor.

The beeping sound returns as Wonwoo opens the front door that leads to your home. There’s a sense of wonder: Would this be what it would be like if Wonwoo were finally yours? 

Would he carry you to bed when you were too tired to stand? Hold your hand in his during every car ride? The thought of those things happening seemed like it would only be possible in some made-up faraway land. 

“Darling, we’re home,” Wonwoo’s baritone voice brings you out of your half-awake dream. 

We’re home. How bittersweet it sounds coming from the lips of someone who isn’t yours. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anything for you.” 

The mattress sinks a tad as you feel yourself being placed into the warmth of your comforter. Your arms don’t let go of your hold on Wonwoo’s shoulders. As you stare into his eyes, the dim lighting of your bedside lamp aids in resurfacing a sense of clarity within you. 

“Will you finally tell me your secrets?” You whisper, even though there is no reason to. 

“Only if you tell me yours.” 

There's a pause. No one dares to speak as you two continue to look at each other in silence. All that is left unspoken can be seen through his eyes, you wanted to ask. Every particle inside you just wanted to know whether there was a chance he felt the same way you did. 

“Come and lay beside me?” You request, tone laced with reticence. 

“Anything for you,” he repeats once again. 

Lowering his body onto yours, arms still circling his shoulders, he shifts a little so that your hands are still on him. The two of you face each other while the atmosphere is left unwavering. 

What you thought would be better left unsaid takes permanent residence at the forefront of your mind. Why do you want to tell this version of Wonwoo your deepest most kept secrets all of a sudden? 

Perhaps you thought that if you admitted anything now, it’ll be forgotten in the morning. It was safe with this fantasy Wonwoo who had no real attachment to the one who lives in your reality. But the effects of all those shots have started to wear off, and you’re left with a very real version of the person you’re irrevocably in love with. 

“You have to go first,” you speak in a hushed tone. 

Wonwoo’s arms grip your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. The arms that are linked behind his neck do the same, holding him taut against you. You don’t want him to leave. You don’t want this form of Wonwoo to disappear before your eyes. 

“Well, I didn’t think it would take you this long to realize but, I am the real Wonwoo,” his chuckle is deep, the glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. 

“I think I did. I just didn’t want this dream to end,” you smile bitterly. 

“But it’s not a dream? I’m here with you, and I’m very real.” 

Burying your face into his sweater, you sigh harshly. This is where it ends. 

“I’m sorry. It was probably such a nuisance having to pick me up just for me to spew out nonsense in return,” You’re embarrassed, hiding your face even further into his chest. 

“Will you please look at me?” Wonwoo asks, his voice low, “You’ll never be a nuisance to me.” 

  His hand comes up to your head, fingers carding down your hair. Staring deeply into your eyes, you can feel his sincerity. The breath in your throat is caught and you’re unable to conjure up a reply. 

“I know that old version of me is stuck in your mind, but I don’t want to be like that anymore. I’m willing to pick you up, no matter the distance. I wish you knew that sooner,” he vows, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to convey his feelings to you. 

“I’ll tell you my secret since you told me yours. I don’t think I would be able to say this while I’m sober,” you begin to lay your heart out bare for him. 

Taking a moment to think about how you want to word your confession, you grasp the hand that’s cradling your head. Intertwining your fingers with his once again, you stare at Wonwoo like he’s the answer to all your problems. 

The siren-like voice that sings within your heart is finally able to release itself from the prison your brain had placed it in. All you’ve wanted from Wonwoo was for him to love you, and on the off chance he feels the same way, then you’re willing to take the plunge into the deep waters of the unknown. 

“I don’t know if you remember me telling you, that time during our fight. I was–I am in love with you. I know you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I don’t think I can be friends with you after this.” 

“Real or fake, whatever you are or whatever this moment is. I’m still in love with you. I hate that I can’t tell you this without feeling scared or ashamed. I’ve loved you since the moment you came into class with your big nerdy glasses. I’ve loved you since you came back for a senior year when you had everyone’s attention on you. And I’ve loved you even when you were in love with someone else.” 

Taking a breath, you stop your tangent for a moment before beginning again. 

“I’ve loved you during everything we’ve been through together. Even when I chose to ignore you, I woke up every morning with you still on my mind. It was hard, and I don’t know why I couldn’t let go of my feelings for you but a part of me was always hoping that one day you would feel the same way.”  

It’s done. There was nothing you could do to backtrack on your words. No time machine to take away your confession and erase it from his memory. Your heart felt free for the first time in years, and the weight on your shoulders lightened exponentially. 

Wonwoo doesn’t dare speak, and your pulse quickens from his prolonged silence. The mere seconds that passed felt like an eternity, and that was enough to bring you out of your drunken state. 

“Will you still love me tomorrow? When it's morning, and you’re sober. Will I still be the one you love?” Wonwoo's voice is timbre, barely loud enough to hear over your beating heart. 

“Yes. Even when you weren’t around. Even when you weren’t available, I still loved you,” you admit to him. 

The fingers that were laced with yours move to your jaw, Wonwoo’s palm tracing every outline of your face. The rough skin from his thumb contrasts the softness of your cheek. Memorizing every line and wrinkle, he continues to caress you, as if he was communicating with his touch. 

“If you didn’t want me tomorrow, you’d still be the person I wake up thinking about.  I hated not knowing whether you meant what you said,” he pauses, clarifying his jumble of words, “the night we fought, I mean. Because I heard you, even when I was blinded with jealousy and anger. I had hoped you meant what you confessed to me that night.” 

The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t subside. There hadn’t been a day in all the years you’ve known your best friend where you thought you would hear him reciprocate the feelings you were holding deep down inside you.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that it was you all along. I don’t know why I never admitted it to myself, but you’ve been in front of me this whole time.” 

The pad of Wonwoo’s thumb shadows over your bottom lip, your breath hitching under his touch. With soft eyes and an even softer touch, Wonwoo couldn’t take his hands off you. There was no lewd denotation behind his actions, just wanting to feel his skin against yours. 

“I feel so much regret because you were always the one person I truly wanted and I never acted on those instincts,” Wonwoo confided, the weight of his words seeping into you with a profound sense of awareness. 

“I’m yours, Wonwoo. That will never change,” you speak frankly. 

“Just promise me you’ll love me tomorrow too,” he chokes out. 

“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.” 

chapter two, the first day of junior year. 

Before the age of sixteen, everything was a blur. Your routine was mundane, with average grades, average parents, and an even more average love life. Before the age of sixteen, there were no particular moments in all your years worth noting. It wasn’t until you met Wonwoo on the first day of eleventh grade. 

Once you laid your eyes on him, you saw the potential of a new friendship. However, your teenage self didn’t realize how deep-rooted Wonwoo would become in your life from that day forward. 

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you. Wonwoo right?” You greeted, your figure looming over Wonwoo who was sitting at the picnic table in the school's courtyard. 

The September sun shone bright, blinding Wonwoo as he placed a hand over his eyes to get a better look at the stranger in front of him. 

You explicitly remembered him eating lunch alone while playing Super Smash Bros on his Nintendo Switch. His black hair was long and covered his forehead, glasses were thick and large-framed. Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air from the other boys at your school. Unlike the rest of them, he was more reserved and didn’t talk much. His silence intrigued you. 

“Hi?” he replied as a confused frown graced his lips before he returned to his game.

Deciding to ignore his introverted personality, you introduce yourself. You take out your lunch box, unveiling the spam musubi you prepared the night before. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” you ask him even though you’ve already begun unpacking the food from your bag. 

“Well, I guess it’s okay,” he shrugged, interested in everything but the person sitting beside him. 

Peering closer at his screen, you watched with intent. The two characters fighting on a floating stage, Wonwoo spamming buttons with expertise. You’ve played Super Smash Bros before, but you weren’t as good as him. 

“Are you playing Smash Bros? You’re really good,” you mumbled, taking a bite of your food. 

“Thanks.” 

Miffed by his lack of speech, you continued to watch him play, his triangle kimbap left ignored as he focused on winning. 

“You can do multiplayer with this right? Can I play too?” you asked him, observing his gameplay over his shoulder. 

He shoots you a quirked eyebrow before returning his attention to his screen. Three to zero. You found Wonwoo to be an expert compared to your novice skills. 

“You know how to play?” Wonwoo stared at you in disbelief. 

“Duh! Sometimes Seokmin brings his switch for spare period. I only play Cloud or Bayonetta though,” you explained. 

Wonwoo looked impressed with your knowledge of the characters. He shrugged his shoulders before setting up his switch into a two-player mode. Handing you the red switch controller, you shook your head in refusal. 

“Nope. I can only play with the blue controller.” 

“Huh? How does that even make sense?” He scoffed but gave you the blue one anyway. 

Taking the controller from his hands, you gave him a grateful smile. 

“Blue is my favourite colour,” you told him, bumping your shoulder with his. 

Wonwoo is confused by your outward personality, unsure of how to react to you being so comfortable with someone you had just met, but he didn’t complain. It was his first day at a new school and it wouldn’t be so bad making a new friend as soon as possible. 

The player screen lit up and you quickly decided on Cloud, while Wonwoo opted to play Kirby. Smart, you thought. If played correctly, Kirby can easily absorb the abilities of his opponents. 

With a randomly chosen stage, the game commenced. It didn’t take long for Wonwoo to win. He was more experienced than you were, but you had fun nonetheless. 

“You’re terrible at this,” He chuckles, looking at you with a cat-like smile. 

The smitten grin on your face was difficult to hide as you stared back into his eyes. Something shifted in you that day, and it marked the first time you saw Wonwoo in a romantic light. Call it cliche for falling for him so quickly, but you couldn’t help it, you were only human after all. 

“I never said I was good,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Can we play again tomorrow?” 

“Sure,” Wonwoo nodded his head, placing down his switch to get back to his food. 

Enraptured by him from that moment on, you found yourself hopelessly wishing to become closer to Wonwoo. If there was one sure thing about you, it was persistence. From that day forward, you didn’t leave Wonwoo’s side, spending your lunch under the autumn sun and playing games on his switch. 

… 

october of junior year. 

[10:00 p.m]  [you: did you finish ur hw? :D] [wonwoo: yes. did u?] [you: nope :( it was hurting my brain so im watching nana]  [wonwoo: nana?] [wonwoo: never heard of it]  [you: omg…] [you: it’s the best anime ever!!]  [wonwoo: i didn’t know u liked anime] [you: uve got a lot to learn abt me wons] [wonwoo: wons?] [you: my nickname for u obvs hehe]  [*you changed wonwoo’s nickname to wons*]  [wons: ok]  [you: u should watch it. It WILL change your life]  [wons: ok, maybe later. gotta go to bed. see u tmrw]  [you: ok grandpa :p see u tmrw!!] [you: bring ur switch!]  [wons: sure. bye.] 

…

“Wonwoo! Wait up for me,” you hollered, waving your hand in the air even though his back was facing towards you. 

Turning around, Wonwoo stared blankly as you ran up to him. Halting his steps, he waited for you to catch up. The backpack you were wearing flops up and down as you picked up your speed. 

The weather was colder now, and the leaves morphed into deeper shades of yellow and red. Wind whistling as you finally reached where he stood, you gave him a bright smile, so bright that it offset the gloomy sky. 

“Morning,” he greeted you. 

Air knocked out of your chest, and you folded over with your hands on your knees, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Wonwoo grasped your elbow to help, but this didn’t help your already out-of-breath state. His touch caused sparks to erupt under your skin. Luckily, the commotion caused by your run concealed your nerves. 

“Why didn’t you tell me we lived on the same street?” you heaved while Wonwoo used his grip to help you stand straight.

“How was I supposed to know?” he rebutted. 

Rolling your eyes at him, you knew he was right. But if you had known sooner, you could’ve spent your previous mornings walking with him to school. 

“Can we walk to school together from now on then?” you batted your eyelashes at him, shooting him a sweet smile. 

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged his shoulders again. 

You’ve found Wonwoo to be quite nonchalant, his reactions never more than a distant stare, a chuckle, or a shoulder shrug, no in between. Wonwoo’s lack of care for anything and everything is what endeared you the most. Despite his standoffish personality, you knew there was more to him deep down. He didn’t talk much, but his actions spoke louder than his words did. 

… 

november of junior year.

Thanks to your English teacher, Mr. Park, you and Wonwoo have been paired up for your biology project. Not only did that mean you would get to spend more time with Wonwoo but it also meant you secured a good grade for the assignment. 

Science in general has never been your strong suit, but whenever you asked Wonwoo to explain the concepts to you, everything somehow made sense. 

The walk to his house was nerve-wracking. It was the first time going over to a boy’s place, and the fact that it was Wonwoo made you even more anxious. He didn’t talk much about his family unless you asked. The only thing you knew was that he had an older brother named Seongho. 

“Ma! I’m home,” Wonwoo greeted his mother, and you're taken aback by how loud his voice got. 

Due to his introverted personality, Wonwoo didn’t talk at school unless spoken to, and it was exciting to finally see him in a setting where he was comfortable. 

His mom poked her head out from the kitchen and gave you both a warm smile. Patting her hands off the apron, she immediately pulled you into a hug. She smelt like lavender and vanilla, giving off a homey aroma. 

“Wonwoo! You didn’t tell me you got a girlfriend,” she exclaimed, pinching her son’s cheek. 

Wonwoos's face flared red, and he retracted from his mother's touch. “She’s not my girlfriend. We have a project to work on.” 

“Oops! Sorry. You two had better get to work then. I’ll call you when the food is ready. You’ll stay for dinner, right dear?” She beamed down at you. 

“If you and Wonwoo don’t mind, then I can,” you grinned at her while Wonwoo was urging you upstairs. 

“Of course, I don’t mind. It’s nice to see my little Wonwoo making friends at his new school,” she cooed at her son, which had him rolling his eyes. 

“Mom, I’m sixteen,” Wonwoo groaned, discreetly stepping towards the direction of his room. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Jeon!” you responded as Wonwoo dragged you by the wrist, hauling you along with him. 

His fingers are wrapped around your forearm, trying to get you away from his Mom as fast as he could. 

The moment you stepped into his room, you found it cleaner than an average teenage boy’s would be. Your eyes panned over his space, spotting the gaming pc in the corner. Marvelling at the RGB lighting, you gasped at the clicky-ness of the keyboard. 

“Woah… this is so cool!” you gushed, tapping random keys to feel the switches underneath. 

“I guess,” Wonwoo muttered, shutting the door behind him. 

The closed door muffled any sound from outside his room, and you were left alone with Wonwoo and the silence he brought along with him. 

“Your mom is really nice,” you chirped. 

Wonwoo responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Classic. Instead of saying anything more, he took the poster board out of his bag and placed it on his bed. 

“We should get started,” Wonwoo said firmly. 

You could only sigh at how serious he was about school. Of course, you knew the importance of diligence when it comes to projects and assignments, but you felt that this was the perfect time to learn more about your new friend. 

Sitting beside him on his bed, you crossed your legs and took the large biology textbook out of the bag alongside your laptop. 

“Inherited genes and Sickle-cell anemia, sounds boring,” you huffed. 

Wonwoo ignored your statement and grabbed the textbook from you to look up information that would help with your project. 

“Don’t you think we’re working on this too early? We have like…two weeks,” you whined. 

“The sooner we get this over with the better,” he nipped, flipping the pages without a single glance over at you. 

The brightness of your laptop illuminated Wonwoo’s dim room. Aside from the computer and his bedside lamp, the rest of his lights were off. Opening up the doc, you couldn’t help but sneak glances over at him. 

Wonwoo fixed his glasses, pushing the frames up his tall nose. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. There was something about him that made him undeniably handsome, your teenage brain couldn’t comprehend it. 

“Y’know Mr. Park is pretty chill. We don’t have to do this all in one night.” 

“I know,” Wonwoo muttered, still reading the textbook, looking for information to cite for your project. 

Wonwoo could feel your eyes focused on him, but he ignored them, pretending to read the words on the page instead. Wonwoo didn’t mind that you had a habit of staring at him, but he didn’t know how to spark conversation. You were quite talkative, so he decided that it was better for you to take the lead. 

Putting up with his adamance, the two of you worked on your project for a good hour before you decided that the words "sickle cell" and "genes" were hurting your eyes. 

“Can we take a break, it feels like my brain is going to pop out of my skull,” you sighed, flopping against his mattress. 

Wonwoo shot you a scolding expression but gave in to your wishes. And like a lightbulb had gone off in your head, you quickly got back up. Furiously typing on your laptop, you go onto the illegal site where you had NANA bookmarked. 

“How about we watch an episode? You haven’t started it yet right?” you enquired, looking at him with the biggest grin on your face. 

“I haven’t, no,” he answered you. 

With a squeal, you clicked on the first episode while making yourself comfortable. Wonwoo moved next to you, and excitement coursed through your veins. His warmth radiated off him, and the feeling of him sitting so close made butterflies erupt within you. 

Despite Wonwoo’s reluctance to take a break from schoolwork, you found him genuinely interested in the show. Nothing could compare to the feeling of sitting in silence with him, just enjoying his presence as NANA played on your laptop. 

For the rest of your self-declared break, you and Wonwoo got through the first two episodes. 

There was a part of you that wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was racing, being that close to him. But you felt daring in that moment, allowing yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. Wonwoo stiffened slightly at your proximity but didn’t budge. If anything, he relaxed further. So you stayed in that position, if he could hear your thumping pulse, you didn’t care. 

“Well, what do you think?” you looked up at him, curious about his first impression. 

“It’s good. Nana seems very naive though,” he disclosed, pushing his glasses up once again. 

“Hmm, interesting. The plot gets better the more you watch, so I hope you’ll give it a chance,” you gave him a shy smile which he returned. 

Any other person probably would’ve refused to watch this show with you. Knowing Wonwoo, he was more into shounen than shoujo or slice of life. Yet, he spent an hour watching an anime that was out of his usual genre. It made you feel safe. Safe enough to talk about your interests without worrying whether or not he’d find you bothersome. 

“Sure. I think I liked it enough to watch on my own,” he admitted. 

“Wait. Really?” you gasped, shocked that he enjoyed it. 

“Yeah. At least then we have more to talk about,” he specified.

The smile on your face broadened, and you leaned into him even more as you both stared ahead, starting the third episode. Once again, he didn’t stop you. Instead, Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. 

“You’re a good friend Wons,” you confirmed. 

“And you’re my only friend,” he confessed, patting your shoulder. 

“Don't worry. I’ll always be your friend,” you mumbled before staring deeply into his eyes. 

Wonwoo chuckled at your words, nodding his head in agreement. 

“I feel like I should be the one saying that,” he mused, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad I decided to sit next to you on the first day of school,” you laughed, reminiscing about that warm September day. 

“I’m glad too.” 

After that day, Wonwoo had become more comfortable with talking to you about the things he didn’t share with others. He made you feel special. Although you had close friends like Seokmin and Mingyu during your first two years in high school, there were parts about yourself that you knew you couldn’t unveil to them. 

It wasn’t that they were judgmental or bad friends; Wonwoo just brought out something different in you. Although it took a while to break him out of his shell, he continued to reveal more about himself the more time you spent with him. 

The closeness that you two shared that night in his bedroom, watching NANA on your laptop sparked a flame inside you. Wonwoo took over every crevice of your mind, his scent, his touch, even if it was a mere hand on your shoulders, you didn’t want to go a day without him. Life was meaningless before you met Wonwoo, a blur of memories you couldn’t pinpoint. Now that he was with you, you didn’t want to ever go back to a time when he was not by your side. 

chapter three, present time. 

Sunlight pours through your curtains, hitting your eyes with a blinding sheen. The ache of last night's decisions trickles down your head and into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You can only curse your past self for drinking way more than your limit allows. 

Whatever had happened last night felt straight out of a movie, especially because it had caused you to dream about Wonwoo finally being yours. As you recollect the memories of yesterday, the pang in your heart intensifies. 

The oddly vivid visions of you and Wonwoo cuddling under blankets leave a bitter taste in your mouth. It felt so real you could almost smell the faint lingering scent of his cologne on your sheets. But alas, it was just another drunken fantasy you wish you could live in. 

“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.”

You almost scoff at how cheesy you sounded in your dream. What kind of fool speaks this articulate after countless shots of tequila? 

The sounds of pots clanging brings you out of your thoughts, and you practically jump off your mattress and run to the entrance of your room. Placing an ear against the thick wood, you listen carefully for signs of an intruder. There’s a grunt that resounds through your apartment and has sirens blaring in your mind. You must’ve been very drunk last night, and stupid enough to leave your door unlocked. 

There was nothing in your bedroom that could be of use to you in a situation like this. Except for the dildo that June gifted you for your birthday last year. With a defeated sigh, you decided that it was needed during this life-or-death situation. Opening up your drawer you carefully take out the pink sparkly dildo that was still left in its packaging, gripping it tightly as you burst through the door. 

Screaming, you lunge towards the intruder’s large frame with your eyes shut tight, smacking him repeatedly with the phallic piece of plastic. 

“Get out! You freak! Get out!” You shriek, hitting his back with a large thump. 

The intruder groans in pain, the sound of his discomfort all too familiar. Halting your assault on his naked back, you open your eyes. Only for your sight to befall an extremely muscular and shirtless Wonwoo. 

“Ow! What the fuck?” Wonwoo grunts, turning around to see your smaller frame gripping a bright pink dildo. 

His eyes widen with recognition, adjusting his glasses, he chuckles at you and your dishevelled state. The sex toy in your hand falls to the ground as you stare at him with an expression filled with not only pure shock but horror. 

Never in your life did you think that Wonwoo would be the one standing shirtless in your kitchen. The idea of someone breaking into your house seems more plausible than whatever is happening before your eyes right now. 

“I’m tryna make you breakfast, and this is how you repay me?” Wonwoo laughs, grabbing the toy from your kitchen floor and placing it down on the counter. 

“I-Uhm. It’s a gift! Yeah,” you stutter, “June gave me it last year as a gift. It’s unused, I promise.” 

Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow at you, stepping forward, crowding you with his large chest. The counter hits your back and you find yourself caged between the granite and Wonwoo’s naked upper half. 

“So you used it to hit me instead?” Wonwoo deducts, his palms gripping the counter so you have nowhere left to run. 

Despite the awkward situation you put yourself in, your mind is elsewhere now that Wonwoo has you in his hold. The words that you want to come out of your mouth are clogged with Wonwoo’s bare chest, the only thing you’re able to focus on. 

“W-well, I thought you were breaking in so,” you start but Wonwoo cuts you off. 

“Do you not remember what happened last night, darling?” He asks you, and the breath in your throat is caught. 

“Last night? I-I thought that was a dream,” you mutter, still staring deeply into his eyes. 

Sighing, Wonwoo pushes the loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. His thumb moves languidly against your skin while you lean into his touch even more. 

“No. It wasn’t a dream. I told you I loved you last night and I meant it,” he clarifies, earnest with his confession. 

“I love you too,” the words spill out of your mouth effortlessly, like you were meant to tell him all along. 

Grinning down at you, Wonwoo places a gentle kiss on your lips. His large hands cupping your face as he does so. 

Pulling back he smiles at you once again, satisfied with the one little peck that he had given you. But you can’t help but pout. You wanted more from him, but there was a lot to address than just the feelings you two shared last night. 

Like the dildo suctioned to your counter, for example. 

“Why are you shirtless?” you ask, starting with the first thing in front of you. 

“Because darling, you’re wearing my shirt,” answering nonchalantly as he turns back to hand you a plate of eggs and bacon. 

Oh, right. You look down at the white shirt that’s draped over your frame. Dumbfounded, you mumble a quick thanks before nibbling on the food he gave you. 

Wonwoo grips your hand, pulling you to sit down on the couch with him. You weren’t sure what else to say, opting to focus on the food in front of you instead. If there was something Wonwoo wanted to mention, you gave him the time to do so. 

“You probably don’t remember me helping you get ready for bed. You were kinda out of it once we got home,” he explains. 

With your legs crossed on the sofa, you nod, processing the information before waiting for him to continue. 

Wiping the corner of your mouth, Wonwoo’s lips are upturned into a fond smile. Your cheeks grow hot as he continues to stare. 

“Whatever happened last night wasn’t a dream. I do love you, I mean it. I want to be yours if you’ll give me a chance,” he professes. 

All while you’re sitting there eating strips of bacon and a couple of eggs. You had been mistaken to think that last night was some fever dream because this moment is more fitting. 

For anyone else, eating while Wonwoo is admitting his love for you would be odd, and out of the ordinary. But this felt natural somehow like a different version of you in some other universe has already experienced it. 

“I just want to be yours, Wonwoo.” you sigh, placing your plate on the coffee table. 

Inching closer to him, you place yourself on his lap, your hands circling his broad shoulders. Your head makes itself at home in the dip between his shoulder and neck as you breathe in his cologne. 

Lazy Sunday Morning. Your favourite. 

“I’ve always just wanted to be yours,” your voice is meek, muffled from hiding your face against his skin. 

Wonwoo’s hand rubs up and down the expanse of your back, and you relax under his touch. Completely disarmed under the daze of your subsiding headache and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath. 

Nothing else in the world matters to you when you’re in his hold. Outside disruptions are muted, the only thing that can be heard is your heart pounding within the confines of your chest. 

Pulling back from where your head was resting, you drink in Wonwoo’s every feature. The ones that you’ve memorized and the ones you’ve missed from never being this close to him. You want to know all of him, want to feel and see all of him. 

With the most delicate of motions, you place your lips over his. There’s a ruggedness to his skin, yet he feels so gentle against you all at the same time. The softness of love that you’ve never experienced before. There haven’t been many instances where you’ve got to kiss someone so deeply, yet it’s the least of your worries. All that matters to you now is Wonwoo. 

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which almost seemed impossible. But he makes it happen anyway, clutching onto you like his life depended on it. 

“Wonwoo.” Pulling away, you whimper breathlessly, wanting more and more of him. 

The sweet sounds that erupt from you cause a groan to leave his throat, crashing his lips against yours once again. The tenderness that was evident before is overtaken by the heat of lust. Like tides to an ocean, Wonwoo kisses you with full force, and you don’t care if you can barely breathe or if your heart is suddenly going into overdrive. You’d rather suffocate in his grasp than go another minute without him all over you. 

“You’re fucking perfect, darling,” Wonwoo whispers in your ear, his lips trailing down your cheek and down to your neck. 

Your head lolls with pleasure, feeling him press hot kisses against your scorching skin. Tiny licks here and there that force your eyes to roll back, you find purchase in his black locks, tugging at them in an attempt to ground yourself. 

“Be my girlfriend. Be mine, please,” Wonwoo speaks in hushed tones, his lips searing against the shell of your ear. 

You moan out, nodding your head as his hand moves down to squeeze the meat of your ass. He pulls you right onto his hardening length, your sleep shorts leaving nothing up to the imagination. The hands he has placed on your bottom forces you to drag your hips back and forth against his clothed dick. 

“Yes, I want it so bad. I wanna be yours, forever,” you sigh, mustering up enough brainpower to answer him.

Before you two could get any further the shrill of a ringtone brings you out of your lustful state. Wonwoo refuses to let you go, instead, he keeps you firmly on his lap while he answers the phone. 

You can’t help but giggle at how frustrated he looks. Eyebrows furrowed with a disappointed frown on his swollen lips. He’s still hard against you, and the thought of teasing him while he’s speaking to someone over the phone seems like a brilliant idea. 

“What do you want, Jeonghan?” Wonwoo grumbles, his hand moving under your shorts to squeeze you properly. 

While his hand massages into the fat, you kiss up his neck while rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. His voice becomes strained, attempting to cover up the sounds of pleasure he’s emitting with a cough. 

“What? You had to call me just for that?” Wonwoo seethes, yet he continues to play with your ass as he takes his call. As if you’re some type of stress ball to relieve his vexation. 

“No. She’s right beside me,” he mumbles and you perk up now that his attention is back on you. 

Grabbing the phone that he’s holding, you greet Jeonghan through the speaker. 

“Hi Hannie!” 

“Hi, beautiful. Are you down to go to my place tonight? Everyone’s coming over,” Jeonghan explains, his voice like honey. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the pet names, clearly unamused by his friend's flirty personality. Without a second to waste, he dives into the skin at the base of your neck, trickling down to your exposed shoulder where the collar of his shirt fails to cover. 

“O-of course! We’ll see you later, okay?” you stutter, unable to focus with Wonwoo all over you. 

“Got it! Don’t be late, love you!” He says his goodbyes before hanging up. 

“Love you too!”

Wonwoo stops in his tracks, his eyes piercing into yours, deadly and swirling with desire. The phone in your hand is discarded somewhere on the floor before he grabs your face, pinching you with his thumb and index finger. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve baby, teasing me like that. Telling Jeonghan you love him,” Wonwoo spits, but there's amusement behind his serious tone. 

“M’sorry, I’ll make it up to you later, okay? I want to get ready for Jeonghan’s thing,” you smile at him cheekily as you release yourself from his hold. 

“Oh I’m sure you will,” he huffs, but lets you go anyway.

Acting unaffected, you get up from his lap, running to the bathroom to start a shower while you leave Wonwoo hot and bothered on the couch. You can’t help but giggle to yourself, excited for whatever awaits you later on. 

The pain and undeniable suffering you had gone through seemed like a memory of the past. The years of yearning for your best friend are nothing but another fever dream. At least you wish it was all a dream, but now that you have Wonwoo in this reality, you don’t want to let him go. 

It's almost laughable how quickly things can change overnight, it felt like yesterday you were crying yourself to sleep over Wonwoo not reciprocating your feelings, and now you have him shirtless on the couch after a very hot make-out session. 

This must be what your heart was telling you all along. This must be what was beyond the dark water of the unknown. You’re thankful you took the plunge because the risk of unveiling your true feelings has given you something undeniably saccharine in return. 

Kiss it Better. 

chapter one.

When Wonwoo met you for the first time, he couldn’t help but find you annoying. You had a habit of sticking to his side when he chose to spend time alone, but in hindsight, it brought him more joy than annoyance. 

He had always been a shy kid and preferred to sit alone at lunch playing games or reading. But when you came into his life, he realized that some company isn’t so bad after all. 

Now that he’s older, and the two of you have grown together, he wouldn’t replace your presence for anyone else. There was something about your personality that made him feel comfortable. It wasn’t long before Wonwoo found a home within you, from your bright smile to your incessant need to play Super Smash Bros each lunch period. He’s thankful he had decided to let the walls he built up come down for the sake of your friendship.

… 

It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at Jeonghan’s apartment. The door was left unlocked for others to come and go as they pleased. Music was blasting from his surround-sound speakers. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how his friend was able to get away from noise complaints, but he decided that it wasn’t any of his business. 

The only thing he was looking forward to was the look on Seokmin’s face once he saw that you were finally his. 

Wonwoo didn’t care that it was selfish of him to arrive with you draped on his arm; he wanted everyone to know that you were off limits. He simply couldn’t wait to see the reactions that would erupt from his friends once he disclosed that he’d claimed his mark on you. 

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan calls out for him, standing by the island pouring drinks for him and Seungcheol. 

His attention diverges, stalking over to his friends with your hand clasped in his. The small action doesn’t go unnoticed as he watches Jeonghan briefly glance over to your intertwined hands. 

The pride brewing in his chest swells, you look irresistible and he knows what awaits him later on when you two get home. But he can indulge in his fantasy later, for now, he’ll settle for admiring your beauty in a more discreet way. Which wasn’t all that methodical in retrospect, because he can’t take his eyes off you. 

Your skirt is short and the frilly lace top you’re wearing shows off your cleavage tastefully. If Wonwoo had it his way, he wouldn’t have let you out of your apartment till the sun was up the next morning. 

“Hello, beautiful. You look amazing,” Jeonghan greets you, forcing you to take your hand out of his grasp to hug your extremely flirtatious friend.

The absence of your touch irked him, but he let you go, not wanting to startle the rest of the group with his growing possessiveness. 

“Thank you, Hannie,” your voice muffles from being engulfed in Jeonghan’s arms. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo gripes, clearly bothered with the way his friend is holding you. 

“You’re no fun,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, before whispering something incoherent in your ear, causing a giggle to erupt from your sweet lips. 

Jeonghan lets go of you anyway, giving into Wonwoo’s sour attitude. 

“You guys just got here! Don’t tell me you’re going to be grumpy the whole time,” Jeonghan teases. 

 “I’m not grumpy, you just have grabby hands and I don’t need you all over my girlfriend for the rest of the night,” Wonwoo grumbles bitterly, taking ahold of your wrist to pull you closer to him. 

He sees the way you roll your eyes, but deep down he knows you enjoy how commanding he can become, especially with you. 

“Girlfriend huh? That’s a big word for you,” Jeonghan laughs while raising his eyebrows. 

“Jeonghan!” you gasp, amusement sparkling in your eyes. 

Wonwoo gives the two of you an irritated look before pulling you away to greet the rest of your friends. You don’t protest the way he handles you and he takes note of that. Who knew you could be so pliant, even in social situations? 

“You don’t have to worry about Jeonghan baby, you know how he is,” you murmur to him, shooting him a reassuring smile. 

“I’m not worried about him, darling,” he huffs. Jeonghan is the least of his worries. 

After what happened between you two this morning, Wonwoo can’t help but want you all for himself. God forbid you let Seokmin touch you the way he did. The mere thought of it made him feel sick. 

He understands that he shouldn’t have thoughts about you with other people, especially because he knows you haven’t dated anyone officially before. But now that you’re his, he has to make sure it stays that way.

“Okay, but still. Just relax, I'm not going anywhere,” you reassure him. 

Your gentle words and the soft squeeze you give him allow him to chill out a little more. He couldn’t help but be on high alert after what Seokmin put you through, after what he put you through. 

Wonwoo has the constant reminder that you’re both here for a good time, and even though he might not be able to hold himself back once his eyes are set on Seokmin, he continues to obey your wishes. 

Disappointment proceeds him as he feels you leave his side. Wonwoo lets go of you, allowing you to grab drinks from Jeonghan’s bar. Instead of wandering around like a loner, he sits on the couch, patiently waiting for your return. 

“Hey, Wonwoo? Do you remember me?” a girl’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. 

Turning to the person who forces themselves into the seat next to him, he frowns at her. She didn’t illuminate the room the way you did, and her voice was unpleasant to his ears. 

“No. Sorry,” he kept his response curt, not wanting to entertain the faceless stranger who was attempting to flirt with him. 

“It’s me? Josh’s friend. We met at Seokmin’s place last time,” she continued to press, and Wonwoo could feel his ears growing hot with annoyance. 

“Oh, right.”  

A hand is placed on his shoulder and he flinches away, he doesn’t want anyone but you touching him. It almost makes him want to throw up. 

“I have a girlfriend,” he quips, not wanting to prolong the interaction any longer. 

The girl beside him cackles, and Wonwoo really can’t stand the sound of her voice. 

“That’s never stopped me,” her voice lowers an octave in an attempt to sound seductive but Wonwoo feels nothing but repulsed by her very being. 

He moves further away from her, evidently angry with the way she’s coming onto him. Cursing at himself inside his mind, he should’ve never flirted with her to begin with. The puzzle pieces start to slowly align as he remembers that night at Seokmin’s place. It was that night that you went home without him, and the realization hit him like a truck. 

A part of him always wondered what moment had been your breaking point, and there she was, sitting right beside him. 

“I really don’t care,” Wonwoo doesn’t spare another glance, escaping her suffocating presence to search for you. 

Stopping in his tracks, he watches as Seokmin comes up to you, clearly apprehensive as you search Jeonghan’s fridge for a spare Diet Coke. The music is blaring, and the sheer volume of the speakers drowns out Seokmin’s voice. 

He watches as you start to notice that someone is talking to you, trying to get your attention. Wonwoo can see the pained expression in your eyes, and he can’t even blame you. Seokmin was your friend before he even met you, and he can’t even fathom the pain you’re feeling from losing someone so close to you. 

Sure, he understands the depth of your relationship with Seokmin, but that doesn’t stop the fury that is forcing its way through his veins. Smoke practically comes out of his nose and ears as he watches everything unfold before his very eyes. 

Seokmin is visibly trying to reason with you, his lips moving at lightning speed as you stand there holding your drink close to your chest. Every bone in Wonwoo’s body wants to go up to you and snatch you away as fast as possible. But he can’t help but relish in the sight of Seokmin so desperate for your attention. It’s satisfying to see your reactions morph from sorrow to anger the longer you’re frozen in your place. 

The second he sees tears beginning to well up in your eyes is the moment Wonwoo finally decides to take action. 

Marching up to you, he pulls you by the waist until you are glued to him. With a firm hand, he squeezes you tightly, staking his claim in front of Seokmin. 

“I’m sorr—,” the words Seokmin so desperately wants to say are cut off by Wonwoo’s presence. 

Wonwoo’s lips press into a thin line, gazing down at him with nothing but a look of disgust, and also triumph. Seokmin seems to realize he’s lost because he steps back slowly, shaking his head as his shoulders slouch with defeat. 

Wonwoo has won, and Seokmin can’t do anything to get in his way anymore. 

“I don’t know why you think you’re allowed to talk to her, but you should leave her alone from now on,” Wonwoo seethes, gaze unwavering. 

“Whatever man,” is all Seokmin can say before retreating into the crowd. 

Wonwoo turns you slightly, hand placed delicately on your cheek, scanning your features to make sure that you’re alright. 

“You okay darling?” he asks, before pecking your lips. 

“I’m okay. I don’t wanna be here anymore, can we go home?” you squeak, your voice faltering. 

Wonwoo hates to see you affected by someone so unimportant like Seokmin. 

He doesn’t think for another second before agreeing with your request. Bidding Jeonghan farewell while holding tightly onto your hand. Before either of you knew it, you were out the door and on the way back home. 

The unsavoury moments that happened while at Jeonghan’s place are gone with the wind as Wonwoo speeds down the road and back to your apartment. 

“Thank you for earlier, I was so in shock I couldn’t even move or speak,” you mutter, grabbing his palm and placing it on your cheek. 

Wonwoo feels your warmth and glances at you pouting as you stare out at the empty road. 

“It’s alright darling, you’re here now, that asshole is not going anywhere near you anymore,” Wonwoo reassures you as he takes your hand in his, giving you a comforting squeeze in an attempt to soothe the thoughts he knows are running through your head. 

The moment Wonwoo reaches your building, he quickly parks the car before running to the passenger side to open your door. His hand is out in front of him for you to hold while you take a step, doing everything he can to distract you from what happened.

Once the front door of your apartment closes behind him, you turn around with a cheeky smile. It almost gives him whiplash at how quickly your mood changes. 

“I didn’t peg you as the possessive type,” you remark, eyes glinting against the dim lighting of your living room lamp. 

“I'm not. But it’s different with you, darling,” he admits. 

Wonwoo rarely felt jealousy in his previous relationships, he knew he was in control either way. Although he knows how much you love him, he still finds himself peeved when someone other than him is close to you. There's a fire within him that he couldn’t extinguish, one that only you could put out. 

“You gonna give me what you promised earlier,” Wonwoo’s voice lowers an octave, crowding your smaller frame. 

He towers over you while watching the way your eyes shine over with intrigue. The image of you moaning for him is a vision he can’t erase from his mind, a vision he wishes he could replay over and over. 

“Depends. Were you jealous about Seokmin coming up to me?” you press, slender fingers tracing circles into his chest. 

Your touch felt like a crackling fire under his skin, Wonwoo’s thoughts were depleted of anything that could distract his awakening need to ravish you. 

“I think you know the answer to that already.”

Stepping closer to you, he places both his hands on your waist, pulling you in until you’re flush against him. His breath trails against your skin as he breathes you in, wanting to memorize the sweet notes of your perfume. The smell of lemon blossom and amber engulfs his senses. 

Amyris Femme. His favourite. 

You have always known how much he loves the smell of it on you. It’s simply addictive and intoxicating. Everything about you is always so sweet, from your honeyed eyes to your heavenly voice, the moans you exude dripping in sugar. From head to toe, you are everything Wonwoo’s ever wanted to indulge in, wanting to experience the high of you with all seven senses. 

He’s convinced that some higher power has sculpted you into everything he’s ever asked for. The universe had known all his preferences, and all his interests and bottled them up into one person. You. 

You. You. You. 

His.

 His darling.  

Cradling your cheek, he presses his lips against yours, truly savouring every brush of skin against yours. Drinking in your sweet scent through his taste and sense of smell. The longer the two of you stand there and make out, the more passionate it becomes. 

Wonwoo pushes himself against you even further, until he’s sure you can feel his already hardening length grow between you. 

You own him in so many ways, in ways you probably wouldn’t be able to comprehend. From his heart to his very soul, he’s yours. And he wants to show you how much of an effect you have on him. Wonwoo wants to show you how crazy you make him. 

Taking the lead, Wonwoo doesn’t relinquish his hold on you as you two slowly move to your bedroom. Opening the door while he leaves wet kisses up and down your neck with the goal of leaving marks against your delicate skin. 

“Wonwoo,” you sigh, your smaller hands gripping his biceps as he lays you down on the bed. 

Wonwoo doesn’t rush, taking his time to strip you of your clothes. His hands breeze against the bare skin of your stomach, pulling up your top along the way. Eyes zeroing in on the black lace that’s clad against your breasts, he can feel the drool starting to pool in his mouth. 

Your skirt is next, and with a hawk eye, he watches the way you lift your hips as he brings down the one thing that's obstructing him from completely devouring you. 

“Please, I wanna go faster,” you whine, squirming under his touch. 

Wonwoo refuses, he needs this moment to seep into his brain until it’s all he can see when his eyes are closed. The desperation emitting from you is almost tangible, but he can’t bring himself to waste a precious second. 

One leg after the other, and finally you’re bare, partially exposed under his body. 

Ready. Waiting. 

“I wanna savour you, darling,” Wonwoo’s baritone voice reverberates against the four walls that enclose the both of you. 

You sigh with annoyance and it only intrigues Wonwoo further. He never thought your brattiness would translate to the bedroom. How naive of him to think otherwise. Excitement courses through his veins, imagining all the fun he’s about to have with you. 

“Just fuck me please, I wanna feel you inside me,” you whisper in his ear, bringing him closer to you. 

“Holy shit, you can’t talk like that or I’ll have to give you what you want.” He groans, hooked on how sexy you sound. 

The cheeky smile you give him returns, and he’s bewitched by your beautiful features. Fully naked before him except for your bra and panties. 

Pinning you against the bed, Wonwoo regains control over his thoughts, the same thoughts that are screaming at him to take you in one go. He rebukes those sentiments, he knows what he wants. 

He knows what you need. 

“But I wanna know what it’s like. I know you wanna fuck me, so just do it.” 

Wonwoo almost loses his vision with the mere utterance of your words. How much of a nymph do you become once you’re horny? Something about the way you speak is so saccharine, putting him in a trance. You could force him into murdering someone with that tone, and he would do it with a smile on his face.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, baby,” his voice strains, the control he once had starting to lose itself within your lustful gaze. 

Thinking of ways to stop you from saying anything more, he rips your panties off in one go. Nimble fingers graze against your plush thighs, squeezing and pinching where he can. 

The whimper you let out is nothing but music to his ears. Seeing you desperate for his touch causes him to focus on his end goal. He wants you to unravel before him, deflowering you till you’re fucked out and panting his name. 

As he spreads your legs, he can’t help but allow his nose to trail against your inner thighs, inhaling the scent of your body emitted under the heat of his touch. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the apex of your sex, glasses fogged while the bridge of his nose is rubbing against your skin. 

Wonwoo finally allows himself to dive in. Ripping the frames off his face, teasing your folds with wet, hot kisses. He repeats his actions till you're moaning deliriously under him. 

“W-Wonwoo, please, fuck,” you cry out while he watches your hole clenching around nothing. 

One of the hands that was holding your thighs down moves to your entrance, teasing you before he slowly inserts a finger inside you. Your head hits the pillows while your eyes are screwed shut, and Wonwoo relishes in your pleasure. 

“God you’re so fucking tight, so wet,” Wonwoo mutters before licking at your clit. 

Nothing is more euphoric than hearing you struggle to contain yourself. His boner getting harder to ignore as the juices from your pussy squelch with every thrust of his finger. 

“Is that what you do when you touch yourself? Using your fingers to fuck this tiny hole?” He asks even though he knows you won’t be able to answer. 

You’re too busy twitching from his hands on you, gripping onto the sheets to the point the threads look like they’re about to tear. 

Wonwoo takes your silence as an answer before fully engulfing your cunt in his mouth. Practically making out with your pussy lips, he licks and rubs your sensitive heat till you writhe against him. 

“You taste so good darling,” he mutters before taking a deep inhale of your musk, “no one’s ever touched you like this huh?” 

“N-no. Just you,” you squeak. 

“Good girl.” 

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, his free hand moves up your body till he’s able to grope at your breasts. The feeling of the lace covering your pert nipples motivates him to make you cum faster. 

Your body vibrates within his hold while he resumes eating you out. Dipping his tongue into your entrance as his thumb goes to rub your clit in sharp circles. He can feel your abdomen retract from his actions. You're close. 

It’s only a matter of time before your juices begin to pour out of your pussy, flooding his mouth with sweet nectar. Wonwoo fully believes he could get drunk from the taste of your cum, the liquid gold dripping down his chin as he slurps and nips at your puffy bundle of nerves. 

“This pussy is mine,” he concludes, slapping your dripping core. 

Eyes drunk with lust, he smiles up at you. A smirk filled with pride as you’re left twitching against the mattress. Hair displaced against the pillowcases, skin glistening under the nebulous light of your lamp. 

Your room is filled with the aroma of sex and sweat, your chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high. Wonwoo’s length straining against his pants, he can’t neglect his need to fuck you for any second longer. 

Laying there, winded from your orgasm, he lets you watch him as he removes the clothes covering his body until there’s nothing left. Wonwoo’s abs and muscular arms flex as he releases himself from his tight pants. He clasps his palm around his cock, rubbing himself while staring down at your fucked out state. Grunts erupt from his throat while he rubs the bead of pre cum dripping down his tip. 

You stare at him, eyes lidded, before sitting up to take off your last piece of clothing. Your breasts bounce as you release them from the confines of your bra. The tip of your fingers graze your nipples, playing with them while Wonwoo stands over you, stroking himself. 

He’s so in deep, it’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt like he’s about to combust in seconds. He hasn’t even been inside of you yet, but he knows he could cum untouched at just the sight of you playing with yourself in front of him. 

“Will you fuck me now? Wanna feel you cum inside me,” you plead with doe eyes, your other hand coming down to your heat. 

He watches you insert a finger in yourself, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his movements. 

Before you can let out another sound of delight, Wonwoo halts whatever he’s doing to flip you around. With you on your stomach, he focuses all his attention on your plump ass. Groping you with rough palms, and your hips fly off the bed to give him better access. 

Retracting his hand, he comes down to you even harder. The slap on your skin echoes throughout your room. You squeak but he can see the juices starting to gush out of your pussy. 

Fuck, Wownoo is obsessed. Obsessed with your neediness, obsessed with the way your ass jiggles with every strike he lands on you. He simply can’t wait to be inside you, engulfed in the heat of your tight walls. 

“Hngh, Wonwoo!” you almost scream, your voice becoming nasally every time he hits you. 

The hand marks on your soft skin drive him crazy, and he knows that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, he’ll cum prematurely. 

“What a needy little thing. You want it that bad huh?” he taunts, spreading your ass cheeks, watching the wetness drip down to your thighs. 

“Please, take me please,” you continue to beg, your voice level as you stare at him over your shoulder. 

Your hips cant back and forth, waving your tight pussy in front of him. Enticing him to fuck you. 

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” Wonwoo grunts, slapping your sopping hole. 

Jerking forward, you let out a salacious moan, eyebrows furrowing as you slump back down onto the bed. 

“I’m being so patient, baby. Just stick your cock in me please,” you fuss, lifting your hips again. 

Wonwoo sighs, turning you over once again so you’re on your back. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” he grunts, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him. 

Sitting on his haunches, he spreads you out, getting the perfect view of your glistening entrance. Taking his dick in his hand, he rubs the tip against your folds. You match his thrusts, moving up as he envelopes the underside of his length between your soaking lips. The sounds emitting from your bodies connecting is sinful and Wonwoo’s jaw goes slack, finally feeling your heat against his manhood. 

“God, this pussy.” 

“Wonwoo, fuck me,” you whimper, grabbing his biceps to pull him against you. 

Engulfing you into a heated kiss, he continues to slide his cock along your slit. The sheer wetness of your pussy lubricates him enough to move with a rushed pace. He’s not even inside you yet and he’s already starting to feel that knot form in his lower stomach. 

“You gonna be a good girl? Show me how bad you want this cock inside you?” he whispers, lips brushing along your own. 

“Yes. fuck yes,” you pant breathlessly. 

Slotting his arm between the two of you, he finally aligns his length with your entrance. He can feel you trying to get him inside you, thrusting up slightly to try and catch the tip so it pushes into your awaiting heat. 

But before you can get away with your tricks, he slaps your thighs. Wonwoo’s large hand presses you down firmly before you can get any further. 

“Liar. You said you were gonna be a good girl,” he spits, “don’t get impatient or I'm gonna leave you lying here without cumming again.” 

You pout at his words. Your cheeks are hot, and your eyes are teary. The things you make him feel, it’s unmatched. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt till you're stuffed full,” he groans, finally inserting his dick inside your heat. 

The gasp you let out is high-pitched. And Wonwoo’s head falls against the space within the dip of your shoulder. His hands are firm against your waist, thrusting into you until he’s fully sheathed in your pussy. Being inside you was like dipping into molten lava, the heat of your cunt enveloping him with such a tight grip he almost faints upon entering you.  

“How are you so tight?” Wonwoo curses. “You feel so good, baby.” 

He didn’t expect you to be gripping his cock like this. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. Your pussy is made for him with how snugly he fits inside you. 

“It’s so big, fuck!” you moan, breathing heavily. 

Wonwoo doesn’t give you enough time to adjust to his length, even though he should. Blinded by searing hot pleasure, he begins to pound in and out of you. Skin slapping as his thrusts become erratic. With eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull at his strands of hair and he groans at the pain that mixes with the high your cunt gives him. 

At that moment, Wonwoo concludes that he doesn’t want anyone but you. For as long as he can, he wants to be the only one to fuck you, to give you orgasm after orgasm. Until you're spent and in and out of consciousness, he wants to be the only one who can make you feel this way. 

As if a curse is placed on him, your phone buzzes against your nightstand. Seokmin’s contact is on clear display for both of you to see. Wonwoo ceases his movements, sitting up and grabbing your phone from the nightstand. 

“Answer it,” he speaks firmly. 

“What?” 

“You heard me. Answer it and show him I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” 

There’s a flash of panic in your eyes, but Wonwoo knows you’ll obey his wishes anyway. He knows how deeply you’ve fallen for him. You can’t refuse him despite the compromising circumstances, and he’ll continue to use it to his advantage. 

Length still buried to the hilt inside you, you swipe at your phone to answer. Wonwoo presses the speaker button before resuming his rushed pace. Bullying your hole while you attempt to at least seem coherent enough to answer Seokmin. 

“Seokmin?” You whisper, trying your best to conceal the moans that are threatening to slip past your lips. 

“Hey. I just wanted to call and say sorry about earlier. That was stupid of me—,” Seokmin attempts to get his apology in but he’s cut off by your moans. 

Wonwoo slaps your clit while thrusting inside you, his length enveloped in your velvety walls. 

“You okay?” Seokmin asks you, and Wonwoo’s satisfied by the scene in front of him. 

You’re flustered and trying your best not to reveal that you’re being fucked hard by your boyfriend, while your ex-friend is trying to reconnect with you. Key word, trying. 

“Tell him you don’t want to ever see him again,” Wonwoo grunts out as he continues to fill you up deliciously, thrusting inside you hard enough that Seokmin could probably hear it over the phone. 

“Fuck! Wonwoo! ‘M sorry Seokmin, but I don’t want you to talk to me anymore. Please, don’t contact me again.” Whimpers escape your lips and Seokmin stutters over the speaker. 

Wonwoo knows that Seokmin is aware of what’s happening on your side of the phone call. The line goes dead the moment you utter your last words to him. 

“Bet you liked that huh? You like it when I show everyone that you’re mine?” Wonwoo emphasizes while he continues to push past your entrance. 

“Yes. Shit,” you mewl out, clenching your walls against his thick cock. 

The ridges of your pussy massage Wonwoo in the most perfect way. Throwing his head back the slightest bit, he watches how his dick moves in and out of you. The creamy ring of your mixed juices pooling at the end of his hardness only arouses him further. 

“You gonna let me cum inside you?” Wonwoo questions, not to ask, but to make sure you’re prepared to feel his seed seeping into you. 

“Mhm. I wanna feel you fill me up,” you let out a breathy moan. 

Tossing you onto your stomach, Wonwoo pulls out and grapples you into the position he wants you in. Clutching onto your hips, he sits on his heels while forcing you onto his thighs. Your back against his chest, head lazing back onto his shoulder while Wonwoo’s muscular bicep wraps around your neck, placing you into a headlock. 

Entering your abused cunt once again, he assaults your pussy with enough force and strength to send you into another dimension. Wonwoo bounces you on his cock and you’re screaming his name at this point. His balls slap against your ass cheeks, while the juices from your hole drip down and onto his thighs. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you wail, your walls spasming. 

Wonwoo's balls retract while your pussy pulsates, your cum coating his dick. He pumps into you one more time until his sticky release fills your walls. The flood of semen overflowing while his red tip kisses your cervix, holding you firmly in place as he continues to cum inside you. 

“Hmph, it’s so good. Your cock feels so good,” your words are slurred as Wonwoo releases you from the headlock. 

Body slumping over, you push your ass in the air, giving Wonwoo the most delectable view of his cum overflowing past the lips of your bruised cunt. The thick white substance comes out in globs as you lay down with your legs spread. 

Wonwoo can feel the twitch in his cock, almost coming back to life as he watches your little pussy push out his cum. 

“You were so good darling, so good for me,” he mutters, kissing your temple as you lay there spent and exhausted. 

“Fucking love you and your big cock,” you mutter, turning around to kiss him passionately. 

Pride blooms within his chest, knowing he was your first. The elation Wonwoo feels is comparable to when you confessed your love for him. 

He’s finally won. You’re his, and he can’t wait to show you how much he loves you every chance he gets. Not only by fucking your brains out but also with dates and random acts of affection. He can’t wait to show you off, to let the world know that you’re his best friend and girlfriend. 

“Gonna clean you up okay? Then we can take a shower,” he imparts, wrapping you up in your blankets so you don’t get cold. 

“Wonwoo?” 

“Yes, baby?” 

“I love you,” you call out, smiling at him lazily, your eyes tired but full of fondness. 

“I love you, too.” 

…

Wonwoo woke up that morning feeling refreshed. The sunlight beaming down on him through your curtains. Your nude body is pressing into him. He loves how he can observe you so closely, taking note of every line and freckle on your skin. The rays of the sun hit you, causing your skin to glow beautifully. Your breath steady as you sleep peacefully, curled against his side. 

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he was lying there admiring you and how gorgeous you are, but his excitement spiked when you began to stir. 

“Good morning darling,” he whispers wistfully in your ear. 

The smile that tugs along your lips makes his heart flutter, and he swears he’s never felt this whole in so long. He can’t remember the last time he felt happiness in its true form. The closest thing that made him experience this type of joy was that night in his bedroom watching NANA with you when you two were still in high school. 

“Morning,” your voice is sickly sweet, enough to have him grinning at such early hours in the day. 

Shifting from your spot, you prop yourself up using your forearms, hair moves swiftly with your movements.

“Sleep well?” 

There’s a shy smile on your face, eyes twinkling with the sunlight, and Wonwoo can only presume that it was you recollecting the memories of last night. 

“The best,” you mumble, leaning in to peck his lips. 

What was meant to be an innocent peck turns into something more heated. Wonwoo grabs you so you’re sitting on his lap, a squeak erupting from your throat as he manhandles you. 

“Wonwoo!” you yelp, slapping his bare chest. 

He doesn’t respond to your dumbstruck reaction, instead, he continues to kiss you, harder than before. That morning he woke up a victim to morning wood, and the only way he could even fathom relieving himself was to fuck you senseless. 

The angle he has you in is sinful, your bare cunt rubbing against his length, his hands firm on your hips, rubbing your folds against the underside of his cock. 

Your head is thrown back, submitting to the pleasure that Wonwoo continues to give you. Removing his hands, he lets you move on your own accord while he focuses on your breasts. His large hands squeeze the flesh, pinching your nipples till your eyebrows are strewn tight. 

“Oh fuck…,” your voice trails, your head coming down, entranced by how Wonwoo’s hardness slides between your pussy lips. 

Wonwoo groans, trying his best not to cum from how wet you’ve become from a little bit of foreplay. It almost feels like he’s still dreaming, watching your hips sway against him. The fuzzy feeling in his brain doesn’t cease, the same fuzziness he felt last night while you were under him, screaming his name. 

“You like that, huh?” He mutters against your skin, trailing kisses all over your chest. 

The same hands that were fondling your round breasts come down to your ass, lifting you. There is a whine that leaves you, and Wonwoo can feel your disappointment from the loss of contact. 

The whine you let out dies quickly as Wonwoo forces you down on his erect cock, pushing your hips till you’ve fit the whole thing inside you. The breath is knocked out of his throat as your warm walls welcome him back into your heat. Being inside you is life-changing, his hand dull in comparison to the feeling your tight hole gives him. 

“So big,” is all you can say. 

“Wanna see you ride me, baby,” he breathes out, trying to centre himself so he doesn’t spurt his cum inside you before you even get to move. 

Your fingers dig into the skin on his shoulders, and slowly, you lift yourself off him before slamming back down. Wonwoo grunts at your speed, not expecting you to use so much force. 

“Shit. Slow down darling,” he sputters, trying to control the way you're bouncing furiously on him. 

“I don’t wanna, it feels too good,” you pout, staring down at him with the most lewd expression. 

Your jaw goes slack, panting for him like a dog in heat. He can feel your walls clench with each stride you take and the words he had on the tip of his tongue evaporate into thin air. He knows if he allows you to continue he won’t be able to savour you on top of him. 

Instead of flipping you on your back, Wonwoo’s arms wrap around you, bringing you close to his chest. His feet are planted firmly against the mattress, he holds you tightly before fucking up into your delicious cunt. 

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he growls, emphasizing his words with each thrust. 

“Baby, I-I can’t, I wanna cum,” you sob, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. 

“Cum for me darling, give it to me,” and as if on command, you do exactly that. 

Wonwoo’s palms drift to your ass, spreading your cheeks, squeezing them tight as he forces you to match his pace. Almost blinded by the sheer pleasure, he pumps into you a few more times before his semen floods your insides, thick and warm, it mixes with the nectar dripping from your heat. As he releases, he keeps his hands firmly on your waist, plugging you to ensure none of his cum spills out. 

The two of you lay like that for a while, catching your breath after Wonwoo had fucked your brains out. Again. In all honesty, he’s convinced that he’ll never get tired of fucking you. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” you sigh, voice muffled as you rest along the slope of his shoulder. 

“So we can’t go again?” Wonwoo asks, feigning innocence, “Hey! Ow!” 

The playful slap you give him on his bicep stings as he chuckles at your wordless response. 

“No more,” you refuse his request. 

“Oh, Wonwoo! You’re so big!” he imitates your voice from earlier, teasing you until you beg him to stop. 

Propping yourself up, his flaccid cock slips out of you, the cum spilling onto his abdomen. 

“You fucker!” you hit his chest again and Wonwoo erupts into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh baby, this pussy is mine.” Your voice lowered in multiple octaves, copying the words he spoke out of lust, “Not so funny now, is it?” 

Wonwoo continues to crack up at your embarrassed state, eyes turning to slits as he tries to calm himself down. 

“Actually, it’s pretty funny,” he attests, grabbing your chin to kiss your cheek. 

“Fine. I won’t say anything while we’re doing it anymore.” You complain, but he knows you secretly love it. 

Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow up at you, in love with your playful side. Still sitting on his lap naked while you’re bickering with him is just as hot as you riding him with your boobs in his face. 

“That wouldn’t stop me,” he shrugs, pretending to act nonchalant. 

The best part of fucking you is how vocal you are, and it drives him insane. 

“Whatever you horny loser,” you roll your eyes. 

Grabbing your arms he pulls you down against him again, kissing your neck, and he can feel you relax under his touch. 

“Says the one who has a massive dildo in their drawer,” he whispers in your ear before falling back onto the mattress, chuckling at your dumbfounded state. 

“I’ve already told you! It was a gift from June and it's unused,” you huff, emphasizing the word unused. 

“Sure it is,” he drawls, not convinced. 

“I'm serious! I literally took it out of the box before beating you with it.” 

“Whatever you say, darling,” he snickers before enveloping you in his arms, “let’s use it next time, yeah?” 

For the rest of the day, you both lay there, talking about the most random things after a long but steamy shower. With fresh sheets on the bed, the atmosphere is filled with nothing but warmth and utter joy. 

This past month or two has been a whirlwind of realizations. Realizations that have shifted the world around him into something beautiful. If someone had told him at the beginning of the school year that he would find a new meaning of love in you, he would’ve laughed with disbelief. But now that you’re here, sitting beside him with the most angelic smile on your face, he recognizes just how much comfort a single person can bring. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore while he visited his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Even though he regrets not confronting his feelings for you sooner, he can’t find a reason to complain. Everything had fallen into place, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he realized that the one person he was searching for was in front of him this whole time. 

epilogue. 

freshman year of university. 

[8:56 p.m.]  [you: raval tonite w junepi and the others?]  [wons <3: yeah but can we leave early? i wanna play league after :)]  [you: is this u tryna get out of drinking by being my dd?]  [wons <3: maybe] [you: fineee but we leave at 12] [wons <3: anything for u darling]  [you: darling?]  [wons <3: u like it?]  [you: yes!! its cute hehe]  [wonwoo has changed your nickname to “darling <3”] 

the end.

⊹ a/n: thank you for reading this story! this thing is my baby and i would love to hear your thoughts :) i appreciate everyone who took their time reading it because i poured my whole heart into it :") thank you again and see you in the next fic ♡ please rmbr to reblog and share your thoughts :3 it motivates me to continue writing stories like these for u ♡

[literatelyobsessive]

done for the night

axel kovacevic x reader

author's note ⋆｡𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡

hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)

c.w.

s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.

being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.

plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.

you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.

after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.

he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"

"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"

"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.

"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"

he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.

"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.

miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.

"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.

"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.

***

at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.

"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.

"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.

you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."

"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.

"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."

"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."

you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."

"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.

"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.

"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."

"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"

"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."

you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.

"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."

"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.

"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.

"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.

"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."

"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."

"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."

"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."

"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."

"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.

"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."

robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."

"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.

robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.

"hi."

"hello." you were playing with your straw.

"what are you drinking?"

"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.

"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.

"no, thanks."

"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."

"leave me alone, kwon."

"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.

kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.

"are you okay?"

"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.

you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.

and then you saw him.

axel kovacevic.

he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.

you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.

the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."

"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.

"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.

"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.

"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."

"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.

"what happened?"

"bo staff competition."

"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."

"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."

"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."

"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."

"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.

"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.

"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"

"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."

axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"

"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."

"miguel..."

"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."

axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"

"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.

"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."

"how many cities have you been to?"

"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"

"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."

"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."

"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."

"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.

"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.

"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.

"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.

"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.

before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.

"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."

the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.

"come on, let's go."

the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.

"what?" axel asked.

"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."

axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."

"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"

axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.

and then he kissed you.

and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.

but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."

"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.

"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.

[aisiedaisie]

hiiii ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ i just found your page this morning and read through your entire masterlist and i loveeee your writing! is it possible to get royal poly!marauders at a ball or something and they catch sight of the reader (can be whatever role you wanna give them) and they are like 'damn'

Hello hello~!!!

First of all, thank you so much for patiently waiting for me to get to your request. Life has been pretty hectic on my end, so writing had to take a back seat for a little while. But today, I finally had some time to sit down and write!

Now, let me just say— this idea is absolutely amazing! I’m completely in love with royal and historical AUs, so there’s a good chance I’ll revisit this concept and or turn it into a series of drabbles. (Not that I’m particularly skilled at keeping things short!!!)

I really hope you enjoy my take on your idea 💖

edit: I got a bit carried away-

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader WC: 3.7k

The night after the neighboring kingdom’s delegation arrives, the Griffyn Kingdom buzzes with anticipation. To honor their esteemed guests— especially the visiting princess —the King and Queen have announced a grand ball. This celebration is more than an act of hospitality; it is a shining declaration of unity, a glittering prelude to alliances and promises that will shape their shared future.

You find yourself standing in Princess Lily’s chambers, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows against the ornate walls.

 Before you, Lily examines herself in a floor-length mirror, her emerald-green gown a masterpiece of silk and embroidery. You and Mary fuss over the gathered fabric at her hips, smoothing it into place with careful precision.

“I can manage the rest,” Lily murmurs, her voice gentle but decisive. She steps away, gliding toward the gilded jewelry box on her dressing table. Its lid is open, revealing an array of jewels she brought for the journey— diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires glittering alongside an assortment of tiaras.

“You two should get ready as well,” she adds, her tone as light as the shimmering necklace she picks up, its facets catching the firelight.

You pause, caught off guard. “What?” The word escapes before you can stop yourself.

Normally, Marlene would stand guard in her knightly uniform, Mary would accompany Lily throughout the event, and you would remain behind— content to watch the festivities from a quiet corner of the castle, keeping a vigilant eye on the princess’s chambers.

“There’s no need for that tonight,” Mary says, her voice warm with reassurance. She steps forward, deftly fastening the diamond necklace around Lily’s neck. The glittering stones resting perfectly against the princess’s pale freckled skin. “We’re on excellent terms with the Potters. No one here will mean us harm.”

The words hang in the air, both an assurance and an invitation. Tonight is different, you realize. 

A diamond tiara rests atop Lily’s head, its intricate design sparkling like a constellation of stars nestled in her fiery red locks. She adjusts it briefly, her reflection regal and resplendent. “You rarely get a chance to enjoy yourself during visits like this,” she says softly, her tone kind but firm. “Go on, get ready.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips, touched by Lily’s thoughtfulness. Her generosity warms you in a way words could never fully express.

With her gentle urging, you retreat to your own room to prepare. A quick bath washes away the lingering weariness of the day, and you do your best to ready yourself for the night ahead.

Despite your efforts, a sense of inadequacy lingers. 

For such grand occasions, it’s expected that the lady's maids and companions are impeccably dressed, each carrying at least one formal gown for travels like these. 

You do have such a dress— a blush colored piece gifted to you by your mother when you first joined the palace as Lily’s lady’s maid.

The fabric clings just a little too tightly at the waist, its once flawless seams now strained from years of careful reuse. The soft blush color, though elegant, has faded slightly with time, its original vibrancy dulled by repeated wear. The bodice is adorned with modest embroidery— delicate vines and blossoms stitched in pale gold thread that catches the light just enough to hint at refinement. The skirt, while gracefully cut, feels heavier than you remember, its weight pulling at your movements as if to remind you of the weight of high society.

It was the best your family could afford when you first came to the palace— a gift from your mother, its fabric chosen to honor both simplicity and a touch of nobility. Back then, it had been a symbol of hope, a token of pride for a baroness’s daughter stepping into the royal household. 

Now, however, standing before the mirror, you can’t help but feel its inadequacy in the face of tonight’s grandeur.

Even so, you smooth the skirt with steady hands, letting your fingers trace the faint ridges of the embroidery. This night, you remind yourself, is not about the richness of your gown, but the confidence you bring and the memories you make. 

Perfection may elude you, but presence—your presence—is more than enough.

When you step back into Lily’s chambers, it’s clear everyone is ready to go. Lily, as expected, looks effortlessly regal in her emerald green dress, the rich color complementing her fiery red hair that cascades down her back in elegant waves. Mary, ever composed, is radiant in a soft yellow gown that perfectly flatters her figure, her dark hair neatly arranged in a low bun at the nape of her neck.

“You look darling,” Lily murmurs, stepping forward to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. Her touch is as light as her tone, her emerald eyes warm with affection.

You roll your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Says the actual goddess standing before me.”

“Truly,” Mary chimes in, her voice sweet as she adjusts the clasp of your necklace, ensuring it sits perfectly centered. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Before you can protest their kind words, a knock at the door interrupts the moment. Marlene peeks her head in, her light blonde hair swept back into a tidy low ponytail. “Ladies,” she announces with a bright grin, “it’s time to head down.”

Excitement ripples through the room as the evening’s promise beckons.

_____

You weren’t quite sure what to do once you stepped onto the crowded ballroom floor. Back home, state balls were familiar territory, their routines and customs etched into your memory. But here, in a foreign kingdom, uncertainty clouded your thoughts. 

Was the etiquette the same? 

Would it be seen as rude to linger by the walls, content to watch the swirl of color and movement before you?

Must you be drawn into the heart of the celebration?

Apparently so.

You stand near one of the grand marble pillars circling the ballroom, the cool stone a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. A glass of white wine rests in your hand, a half-hearted shield against your unease. From the corner of your eye, you notice movement—a man approaching with easy confidence. His dark hair is tied into a loose, messy bun, strands slipping free to frame his sharp features. His attire marks him as a knight of the Griffyn Kingdom, though the smirk curling at his lips carries a roguish charm and confidence uncommon in most knights you’ve met.

“You must be part of the delegation,” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk deepening as his gray eyes fix on yours.

You hesitate, biting back the urge to fidget. He’s handsome, undeniably so, but you can’t quite place why he’s chosen to speak to you. With a soft sigh, you nod. “I am.”

“I thought so,” he replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “I remember seeing you earlier, standing just behind the little princess. So, why aren’t you out there, dancing?” He gestures toward the center of the room, where couples spin and sway beneath glittering chandeliers.

“I’m not particularly fond of dancing,” you say, your voice quieter than intended. It’s not entirely true, but you hope the excuse is convincing enough to deter him.

“Nonsense,” he says with a laugh, his hand extending toward you. “Anyone can see you want to. Prove me wrong, if you’d like.”

The invitation lingers between you, daring yet strangely kind.

You hesitate for just a moment, glancing at the glass in your hand before setting it down on the corner of the nearest table. Then, with a small breath of resolve, you place your hand in his. “Don’t get mad if my heels end up on your toes,” you quip, a touch of nervousness slipping into your tone.

“Trust me, I’m quite nimble. Dodging danger is part of the job,” he replies with an easy smirk, already guiding you toward the dance floor with a confidence that leaves little room for argument.

Normally, you might have countered with a quick remark of your own, but your mind is too distracted. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, drowning out coherent thought.

The lull in the music amplifies every other sound—the clack of your heels against the polished marble, the low hum of whispered voices as heads turn to watch you pass. The weight of their gazes burns into your skin, and your hands tremble slightly as the knight clears a path through the crowd, his presence commanding in a way that both unsettles and reassures you.

Other couples filter onto the dance floor as the musicians shuffle their sheet music, preparing for the next song. The murmurs of the room settle, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Well,” you manage, your voice soft as you cling to anything that might distract you from the dozens of eyes still following your every move, “it seems you’re rather popular.”

“What can I say?” he responds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I am rather handsome.” The smirk that accompanies his words is maddeningly self-assured.

Before you can respond, his hand presses gently against the middle of your back, drawing you closer. His other hand takes yours in a firm yet careful clasp, guiding you into the proper frame with a natural grace that makes it seem effortless. You barely notice the band striking the first notes of the song, your attention fixed on the storm gray eyes studying you with something close to intrigue.

You set your hand clumsily on his shoulder, your fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his maroon jacket. He doesn’t seem to mind your hesitation, his movements assured and steady as he begins to lead you through a simple waltz.

To your relief, the steps come naturally, your body quickly attuning to the rhythm of the music and the gentle guidance of his lead.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice soft, nearly lost beneath the rising swell of the orchestra.

You glance up at him, your voice barely above a whisper as you give your name.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he replies smoothly, his lips curving into a charming smile paired with a wink that, despite yourself, pulls a smile to your face.

“And you?” you counter, a touch of playfulness creeping into your tone. “Who might this oh-so-charming knight be standing before me?”

His eyes glint with amusement, their gray depths catching the light like polished steel. “Sirius,” he says simply, the name rolling off his tongue with a quiet confidence.

You nod thoughtfully, letting the music and his lead guide you effortlessly across the floor. “An attention grabbing star for an attention grabbing knight,” you muse aloud, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Seems fitting, I suppose.”

His laugh is low and warm, the sound wrapping around you like the melody. “Well, I do strive to live up to my name.”

“I doubt you have any trouble with that,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

The music begins to fade, the elegant notes giving way to the quiet hum of conversations around you. As the dance slows to a stop, you take a small step back, though his presence still lingers like the warmth of the ballroom’s golden glow.

“So much for not being a dancer,” he teases, his smirk as effortless as the steps he led you through.

You turn to him, unable to suppress your grin. “Maybe you were just that good of a lead,” you say sweetly, your voice light with sincerity. But before he can respond, you catch sight of Mary and Lily across the room.

“I ought to check in on my lady,” you add, inclining your head slightly. “Thank you for the dance, Sir Sirius—”

“Sirius,” he interrupts gently, his tone almost playful. “Just Sirius is fine.”

You nod, your smile softening as you take a small step back. “Fine, then. Thank you for the dance, Sirius. It was... unexpected, but I truly enjoyed it.”

With a final glance, you turn and make your way toward Mary and Lily, weaving through the gathered crowd. The warmth of his hand on yours still lingers faintly, and his name echoes in your thoughts like the fading strains of the music— a memory you suspect will stay with you far longer than the evening itself.

_____

James and Remus stepped out of the nearest sitting room, the faint hum of ballroom music echoing down the corridor. Remus, ever meticulous, adjusted James’s slightly askew collar, his fingers deftly hiding the newly formed love bites that marked the prince’s neck—evidence of their brief but heated absence.

“We need to get back before anyone notices,” James murmured, his voice low but tinged with amusement as he fixed his tousled hair.

Remus smirked. “We’re already late. Let’s hope Sirius hasn’t set the place on fire in our absence.”

But as they approached the ballroom’s grand entrance, what they saw made both men falter. There, on the dancefloor, Sirius Black was leading a woman in a waltz.

The sight itself was striking. Her blush colored dress stood out in gentle contrast against the bold, jewel toned gowns of the others swirling around her. The simplicity of her attire only seemed to magnify her elegance, and for once, Sirius appeared utterly focused, his usual roguishness tempered by something softer.

“Sirius never asks a woman to dance,” a sharp voice cut through the hum of the crowd. James and Remus glanced toward a cluster of women, their faces half hidden behind delicate feathered fans. The speaker, a haughty looking noblewoman, tilted her head knowingly, her words drawing murmurs of agreement from those around her.

Remus’s brows knit together. Sirius was notorious for politely but firmly declining the endless stream of invitations to dance he received at events like these. Yet, watching him now, Remus found he could understand why Sirius had sought out this particular partner.

She was... radiant.

“Well, isn’t she a sight to see,” James murmured, his voice just low enough for Remus to hear.

Remus nodded, his hazel eyes tracking the woman’s graceful movements. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s one of Princess Lily’s lady’s maids,” he said, his tone thoughtful.

James’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Is that so?” he drawled, the spark of an idea lighting his gaze.

Remus sighed, already sensing trouble. “What are you thinking, James?”

The prince’s grin only grew. “I think,” he said, “we should pay a visit to the princess. Seems like her lady’s maid could use some... royal introductions.”

_____

After reuniting with a gushing Mary and Lily, a server approaches, bowing their head politely before handing you a fresh glass of wine. You thank them quietly, though you can’t help but find their deference a little peculiar. Still, you accept the drink, shifting your attention back to the princess as she launches into a spirited account of your performance on the dance floor.

“You looked absolutely stunning out there,” Lily exclaims, her cheeks slightly flushed from the excitement of the evening—or perhaps the wine.

“She’s right,” Mary agrees with a hum, a bright smile lighting her face. “Everyone was watching. You two were the talk of the room.”

Both women had taken their turns dancing with high-ranking gentlemen throughout the night. Suitors vying for the honor of even a single waltz. Yet, they seemed convinced that your dance was the highlight.

“He’s quite a talented dancer for a knight,” Mary observes, taking a sip from her own glass.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I figured he’d be good, considering how confident he seemed. But he led me effortlessly. I barely had to think about the steps.”

“Well,” Lily interjects with a soft laugh, her hand fluttering to her lips as though trying to stifle her amusement, “that’s hardly surprising. He’s a noble, after all.”

“What?” Both you and Mary turn to her in confusion, the notion catching you both off guard. Nobles rarely became knights, considering the station beneath them. Sirius hardly seemed the exception, yet here you were.

“He’s the son of Duchess Black,” Lily explains with a slight grimace, lowering her voice. “Her sons are far more tolerable than she ever will be.”

“Lily!” Mary scolds, her eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard the princess’s blunt critique. Fortunately, the surrounding hum of conversation seemed to swallow the comment whole.

“But...” you trail off, your brows furrowing as you ask. “Did you not just dance with the heir to the duchy?”

“That would be my younger brother,” a smooth, familiar voice cuts into the conversation, making you turn sharply.

Sirius stands behind you, his easy smirk firmly in place, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in his gray eyes. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you instinctively dip your head in greeting, murmuring, “Sir Sirius.”

“Sirius,” he corrects lightly, his gaze softening as it lingers on you.

“Sirius,” you murmur, correcting yourself softly.

His smirk softens into something warmer. “You danced with Regulus, Your Highness?”

“Lily,” the princess corrects, her tone mirroring his own.

Sirius chuckles, his attention shifting to her. “Of course, Lily. So, you danced with Reg?”

“As I always do, Sirius,” she replies with a sigh, clearly anticipating where the conversation might lead. Her expression brightens, however, as her gaze lands beyond him. “Oh, James, Remus! A pleasure to see you.”

Both Mary and you instinctively bow your heads, mirroring Lily’s graceful greeting as two men approach.

“Leave the formalities for the elders,” James teases, waving his hand dismissively. “Raise your heads, ladies.”

James Potter is every bit the image of royalty, dressed in a pristine white suit adorned with a red sash. The high collar adds to his regal air, but it’s his confident posture and easy smile —so warm and almost boyish—that truly captivate.

Beside him stands a tall, broad shouldered man with tousled brown hair. The scars that trace his skin catch your eye briefly before you hastily return your attention to the prince, unwilling to appear rude. Yet, the man’s hazel gaze, calm and piercing, seems to notice everything.

“Are you all enjoying the ball?” James asks, his voice warm and smooth as his signature smile graces his lips.

Lily answers first, her response polite and poised as ever. Her agreement prompts Mary and you to nod along.

“Glad to hear it,” James replies, his smile widening. “I know Sirius was enjoying himself not too long ago,” he adds with a teasing lilt, his hand clapping Sirius on the shoulder and lingering there in a way that seems deliberate.

“It was one dance,” Sirius groans, tilting his head toward the prince in exasperation.

“One dance more than usual,” Remus chimes in, his deep, steady voice carrying a hint of humor. His hazel eyes flicker to Sirius, glinting with quiet amusement as he observes his discomfort.

James turns his gaze to you, his teasing grin softening into something gentler. “He didn’t step on your toes, did he, my lady?” he asks, the mock solemnity of his tone bringing a smile to your lips.

You shake your head, your amusement showing clearly. “Of course not.”

James bursts into laughter, the sound rich and full, drawing a few curious glances from those nearby.

“Having women cover for your clumsy footwork now— what a shame,” Remus adds, his tone dripping with mock disappointment as he shakes his head.

Sirius turns to you, lips curling into an exaggerated pout. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve egged them on.”

You shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now, why would I do that, Sirius?”

“You’re killing me, doll,” he groans dramatically, prompting laughter to ripple through the small group.

The conversation shifts back to something closer to polite, though the teasing undercurrent remains. Mary moves subtly closer to you, her hand brushing comfortingly over your back. It’s then you notice the weight of the many gazes lingering on your group, a pressure you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Your eyes lower to the polished marble floor as you focus on listening to James and Lily’s easy banter, their words melding with the hum of the ballroom.

“You alright?” Remus’s voice pulls your attention. He steps closer, his question soft, laced with genuine concern.

You nod lightly. “It seems all of a sudden I’ve run out of energy,” you say, a polite fib. The truth is, this entire night has been draining, though you don’t want him to think he’s dull company. “I’m not used to parties like this,” you add quickly to clarify.

Remus’s lips curve into a smile, his expression warm and understanding. “We have lounges on the top floor for guests who need a break. You’d be welcome to rest there if you’d like.”

You shake your head gently. “I really shouldn’t, but thank you for the suggestion–”

“That’s a great idea,” Lily interjects with an encouraging smile. “Let’s rest our feet for a while.”

“I’ll let Marlene know we’re heading upstairs,” Mary offers before slipping away, likely toward one of the food tables where Marlene is undoubtedly stationed.

“We’ll escort you,” Sirius says smoothly, but Lily raises a hand, declining the offer with a polite smile.

“We’ll be fine on our own, but thank you,” she assures him.

“Of course,” James replies, bowing his head slightly.

Mary returns soon after, accompanied by Marlene, who carries a golden plate piled high with delicate finger foods.

“Enjoy your rest,” James says with a gracious nod, his tone sincere though his smile holds a trace of teasing warmth.

The women dip their heads in thanks before retreating upstairs to find a quiet lounge.

_____

As soon as they’re out of earshot, James turns to Sirius with a mischievous smirk. “Well, wasn’t she a sweetheart?” he asks, his teasing tone unmistakable.

“She’s polite but knows how to hold her own. I’d say you’ve chosen well, Sirius,” Remus adds with an approving nod.

“If you two hadn’t left me—” Sirius starts, a hint of irritation coloring his words.

“We did say you could join us,” James cuts in, raising his hand as if to defend himself.

“And you know damn well if all three of us disappeared, people would notice,” Sirius counters, arching an eyebrow.

James shrugs, entirely unbothered. “Your loss.”

“Not entirely,” Sirius says with a wolfish grin. “It just means we can take our time later.”

“No visible marks,” Remus warns, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “We’ll have guests for a while.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, his grin unwavering. “It’ll be fine—it’s never stopped us before.”

Remus sighs, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Fair enough.”

[goldfades]

★ dancing phantoms on the terrace; are they second-hand embarrassed, that i can't get out of bed? cause something counterfeit's dead; it was legendary; it was momentary; it was unnecessary ─── PB⁵

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and paige have always danced around each other—an intricate waltz of unspoken words and fleeting touches, each step pulling you closer to the edge of something you both feared to define. but when your feelings finally bubble over, paige’s silence cuts sharper than anything you could have imagined. in the wake of her denial, you vow to let her go, but it’s hard to sever the bond when she keeps lingering in the corners of your world, drawing you back like gravity. what happens when you can’t be friends, but letting go feels impossible?

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | angst w/ no happy ending. weird fwb, cheating (kinda?), toxic relationships, emotional manipulation, unhealthy attachment, and cycles of miscommunication and unresolved feelings.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this is lowkey just a word vomit... idk how to feel about it. i've been on an angst kick lately and i'm apologizing for this fic right now, it's EMOTIONALLY DAMAGING. um anyway, don't even ask how i am right now... enjoy?

The gym smells like worn leather and ambition—Paige’s favorite cocktail, if you had to guess. The echo of bouncing basketballs fills the cavernous space, and there she is, effortlessly commanding the court like it’s her birthright. You’d think the sight of her—golden hair slicked back, sharp focus slicing through the room—would dull with time, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse.

You don’t mean to stare, but when it’s her, you always do.

“Hey,” her voice cuts through your thoughts, soft but with a rasp that’s always felt like a secret shared just between the two of you. Paige jogs toward you, her smile easy, but her eyes? Complicated. Like she knows. Like she’s always known.

“Hey,” you manage, though your throat feels tight, your body betraying you with a spark of something you’ve tried to douse for months.

She stops just short of you, close enough that you can smell the faint citrus of her shampoo. “Thought you were too busy to come by anymore.”

You shrug, trying to play it cool, but the weight of her gaze makes it impossible. “I’m not staying long. Just… passing through.”

It’s a lie. You’ve never been able to just pass through when it comes to her.

Paige grins, wiping sweat from her brow with the hem of her jersey. It’s a fleeting movement, but it leaves your pulse racing, and you hate yourself for it. She doesn’t notice—or maybe she does, and that’s worse.

“You’re a bad liar,” she says, her tone teasing but gentle. She tilts her head, like she’s reading something written on your face. “You okay?”

It’s such a simple question, but the weight of it threatens to shatter your resolve.

“I’m fine,” you say too quickly. Too sharply.

Her brows knit together, but she doesn’t push. Paige never pushes. It’s you who always falls, silently hoping she’ll be there to catch you.

But you’re tired of hoping.

“I should go,” you mutter, turning before the cracks in your chest start to show. But her hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

“Wait.”

It’s a single word, but it roots you in place, her touch burning like truth against your skin. You turn back to her, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breath and the ache of everything you’ll never say.

And Paige, looking at you like she wants to say it too.

SIX MONTHS AGO

The party was already half a blur when Paige walked in, but her presence made everything snap into focus. You hadn’t been looking for her—you’d told yourself you wouldn’t—but there she was, a magnet pulling every molecule of you in her direction. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion like everyone else, no glittering dresses or expensive heels. Just a hoodie, sneakers, and that disarming grin.

You were nursing a drink, not for the taste, but for the illusion of control. People were scattered across the house in little clusters, and you were tucked into a corner of the living room, balancing somewhere between tipsy and regretfully sober. That is, until Paige caught sight of you.

Her gaze found you through the crowd like it was the easiest thing in the world, and you felt it—really felt it. That invisible thread between the two of you, taut and unyielding.

“Hey, stranger.” Her voice carried over the low hum of music and chatter as she slid into the empty space beside you on the couch.

You laughed softly, but it came out more nervous than amused. “Stranger? I didn’t know you even remembered my name.”

She tilted her head, her grin shifting into something softer. “I remember a lot more than that.”

The comment shouldn’t have sent a shiver down your spine, but it did. Paige had a way of saying things like they were just words when they were anything but.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted, your fingers tightening around the red Solo cup in your hand.

“Yeah, well…” Paige’s eyes dropped to your drink before returning to your face, and it made you feel naked somehow. “Needed a break. Thought I’d find you.”

Thought I’d find you.

The words hung in the air, charged, and you couldn’t tell if she was teasing or telling the truth. Maybe both.

The night blurred after that, the two of you falling into a rhythm that felt far too natural for how often you tried to keep your distance. Drinks were passed back and forth, jokes were made, her laughter melted into yours. Every time her knee brushed yours, your pulse spiked. Every time her fingers lingered on your arm, your stomach flipped.

At one point, someone turned up the music, and people started dancing in the center of the room. You didn’t want to, but Paige grabbed your hand, her touch electrifying. “C’mon,” she coaxed, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous.

You followed, of course.

The two of you didn’t so much dance as sway, caught in your own little bubble amidst the chaos. Her hands found your hips, and she pulled you closer, so close you could smell the faint tang of beer on her breath. The way she looked at you—dark, intent, unflinching—made the air between you too thick to breathe.

“Having fun yet?” she asked, her voice low.

You nodded, though fun wasn’t the word for what you were feeling. It was something else entirely.

“Good,” she murmured, leaning in. Her lips brushed your ear as she spoke, sending a shiver through your entire body. “’Cause you deserve it.”

When you pulled back to meet her gaze, you saw it: the crack in her armor. That small, fleeting look of hesitation before she leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t shy. Paige kissed you like she’d been holding back for years, and maybe she had. Your drink slipped from your hand, forgotten, as your fingers found their way into her hair. The rest of the world vanished, the party, the music, the people. There was only her—her lips, her hands, the heat of her against you.

Somehow, the two of you stumbled your way upstairs, her hand firmly gripping yours as she led you to a bedroom. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly it was just the two of you, no distractions, no pretense.

You shouldn’t have let it happen, but you did. And it wasn’t just the alcohol, wasn’t just the heat of the moment. It was years of longing packed into a single night.

When it was over, you lay tangled together, the glow of the moon casting soft light across her face. Paige was quiet, her fingers drawing absent patterns on your bare shoulder. You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat.

“I can’t do this,” she finally whispered, her voice breaking the fragile silence.

Your chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

She turned to face you, and the conflict in her eyes was enough to make your heart ache. “I’m… I’m trying to focus on basketball. This—us—it’s too much.”

Her words felt like a slap, but the way she looked at you—regretful, hesitant, almost desperate—kept you from walking out right then and there. Instead, you forced a nod. “Okay.”

“But—” she added quickly, her hand finding yours, “this doesn’t have to be it. We can figure something out. Later.”

It was a promise she had no right to make, and deep down, you knew that. But when she kissed you again, softer this time, you let yourself believe it.

That was the beginning of the end.

Paige had a way of engulfing your life without even trying, and the worst part was, you let her. She wasn’t yours—you weren’t hers—but she consumed you, seeped into the quiet corners of your world until there wasn’t a part of you she hadn’t touched.

She made it look so easy, too. Like you were the one complicating things.

Every time you tried to pull away, she’d reel you back in with a text, a glance, a late-night phone call that started with “I was just thinking about you.” It was never enough to feel like a relationship, but it was always just enough to keep you tethered to her.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need a label, that you could handle the messiness of it all. But then you’d see her with someone else at a party, her arm slung around a teammate’s shoulders, her laughter spilling over like champagne, and it’d feel like your chest was being hollowed out with a dull spoon.

Still, you stayed.

You stayed because of the way she looked at you when no one else was around, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. You stayed because of the fleeting moments when she let her guard down, her fingers lingering on yours a second too long, her voice soft when she whispered your name.

And you stayed because of the promises.

“I just need time,” she’d say, her hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You understand, right?”

And you’d nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, because of course you understood. What else could you do? Tell her no? Walk away? The thought of losing her entirely was worse than the slow, aching heartbreak of being caught in her orbit.

But it was exhausting, being held at arm’s length while she continued to live her life exactly the way she wanted.

There were nights when she’d come over, late and unannounced, her hair still damp from the shower after a long practice. She’d climb into your bed, curling into your side like it was the most natural thing in the world, her hand slipping under your shirt to rest against your stomach.

“I missed you,” she’d murmur, her voice drowsy.

And for those moments, you’d believe her. You’d let yourself believe that she meant it, that maybe this time things would be different.

But the mornings always came.

She’d wake before you, slipping out of your bed as quietly as she’d slipped in. By the time you stirred, she’d be gone, her spot cold, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering on your pillow. She never left a note, never sent a text. You’d see her later that day, laughing with someone else, like the night before had been nothing more than a shared dream.

It wasn’t fair. You knew that. But Paige wasn’t the kind of person who played fair, at least not when it came to this. She played basketball like her life depended on it, with precision and purpose, but with you? She was reckless, careless, and sometimes it felt like she didn’t even realize it.

“You’re overthinking it,” she’d say when you finally mustered the courage to confront her, her tone light, dismissive. “We’re good, aren’t we?”

And every time, you’d cave. You’d tell her what she wanted to hear, because the alternative—calling her out, forcing her to make a choice—felt too dangerous.

So you kept waiting.

For the next stolen moment, the next broken promise, the next time she’d pull you in and push you away all over again.

It was a slow unraveling, and you didn’t know how much more you could take. But as much as you hated yourself for it, you knew one thing for sure:

You’d keep waiting. For her love. For her to choose you. For something you were terrified might never come.

The gym was cavernous, every dribble of the ball echoing like a drumbeat in your skull as you stormed in. You didn’t stop to think. Logic and restraint had abandoned you the second you saw the picture. Paige, her hands on someone else’s waist, her lips pressed to theirs in a way that made your stomach churn.

Her laugh was unmistakable even above the squeak of sneakers and the occasional shout from her teammates. It grated on you now, sharp and mocking. She didn’t see you at first. She was mid-layup, her ponytail flying behind her, the sweat on her brow catching the fluorescent lights. The picture was still fresh on your phone, the brightness of the screen almost taunting you.

You didn’t care who was watching.

“Paige!” you barked, your voice cutting through the gym’s rhythm like a knife.

The ball thudded against the floor, rolling away as she froze mid-turn. The laughter stopped. Heads turned.

Her eyes found yours, widening slightly before narrowing. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face—then something else. Panic? Regret? It didn’t matter.

She jogged over, wiping her hands on her shorts. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

“What am I doing here?” Your laugh was humorless, loud enough for the whole team to hear. “What the hell are you doing, Paige?”

“Let’s talk outside.” Her voice was tight now, her eyes darting toward her teammates, who were whispering among themselves.

You ignored the way she grabbed your arm, the way her fingers pressed a little too hard against your skin as she dragged you toward the double doors. The moment you were outside, the cold air slapping your face, you yanked yourself free.

“I saw the picture,” you snapped.

“What picture?” Her face was the picture of practiced innocence, but her tone was wary.

“Don’t play dumb, Paige. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were kissing her!”

Her jaw tightened, and her eyes flicked away for just a second—long enough for you to catch it. “It’s not what you think,” she said, her voice measured, like she was trying to calm a storm.

“Not what I think?” You could feel the heat rising in your chest, your hands trembling. “You had your hands all over her. What is there to think, Paige?”

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

“A bigger deal? Are you serious?” Your voice cracked, the anger spilling over, loud and raw. “You told me—no, you promised me—you weren’t seeing anyone else!”

“I’m not,” she shot back, her own voice rising now. “It was just a stupid kiss, alright? It didn’t mean anything.”

Your laugh was bitter, cutting. “It didn’t mean anything? Do you even hear yourself? You think that makes it better?”

Her frustration boiled over, her hands running through her hair as she paced a tight circle. “You’re acting like we’re in some committed relationship or something!”

The words hit you like a slap, your chest tightening as your breath caught. “So, what? This—us—it’s just nothing to you?”

“I didn’t say that!” she yelled, her voice echoing off the empty hallway. Her eyes blazed as she stepped closer, her finger pointing at you. “But you keep pushing me, and I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I want you to stop messing with my head!” Your voice cracked, raw and thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “You can’t keep pulling me in and then acting like I don’t exist whenever it’s convenient for you, Paige!”

She blinked, the words hitting her harder than you expected. For a moment, the anger on her face faltered, replaced by something softer, something you’d almost call guilt.

But just as quickly, her defenses snapped back into place. “I told you I needed space,” she said, her voice quieter but still edged with steel. “I told you from the start this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“Easy?” You shook your head, a humorless laugh bubbling up. “No, Paige, this isn’t hard—it’s cruel. You’re cruel.”

Her face fell, the anger draining from her expression. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But the words felt hollow, like a script she’d practiced too many times. Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms, trying to anchor yourself in something, anything, besides the spiraling frustration.

“Yeah?” Your voice was low, trembling under the weight of restrained fury. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, Paige, but you knew. You knew how I felt—how I feel—and you kissed her anyway.”

Her eyes darted away, lips pressed into a tight line. “I told you this wasn’t... I told you I didn’t want anything serious.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter, the sound bouncing off the cold concrete walls. “No, you didn’t want anything serious, but you didn’t want to let me go either. You wanted me close enough to have whenever you felt like it, but not so close that you had to be accountable for it.”

“That’s not fair,” she snapped, her voice cutting through your words. She squared her shoulders, looking at you like you were the unreasonable one, like this was all spiraling because you couldn’t control your emotions. “You’re acting like I’m the bad guy when you’re the one who stormed into my practice and made a scene.”

“A scene?” Your voice rose, the sharp edge of disbelief slicing through the tension. “You kissed someone else, Paige. What the hell am I supposed to do? Just sit at home, pretend it didn’t happen, and wait for you to toss me a few scraps of affection when it’s convenient?”

“That’s not what this is!” she shouted, the crack in her voice betraying her frustration. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, alright? I didn’t plan it! God, why can’t you just trust me?”

“Trust you?” The words tore from you, laced with incredulity. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you do things like this and then try to make me feel crazy for reacting?”

“I’m not making you feel crazy!” she fired back, but the flicker of guilt in her eyes betrayed her. She stepped closer, her hands gesturing wildly as if she could will you to calm down. “I just... I didn’t think this would turn into... into this.”

“This?” Your voice broke, the vulnerability slipping through the cracks in your anger. “Paige, I let you have all of me. You knew that, and you’re acting like I’m the one who crossed a line.”

Her face softened for a split second, and you saw the Paige you thought you knew, the one who made you laugh so hard you cried, the one who looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the room.

But then she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t ask for this to get so complicated,” she muttered, almost to herself.

“Complicated?” The word fell from your lips like venom. “You made it complicated. You wanted me enough to keep me on a leash, but not enough to—”

“Stop,” she cut you off, her voice sharp. “Just stop. You’re spiraling, and you’re putting all of this on me like you don’t have a choice in any of it.”

The sheer audacity of her words made your chest tighten, heat flooding your face. “A choice? Paige, I chose you. I keep choosing you, even when it hurts.”

For a moment, you thought she might say something—an apology, an admission, anything to make this feel less like a freefall. Instead, she just stepped closer, her voice softening. “You’re overthinking this. You always do.”

Your body went rigid, the casual dismissal slicing through you like a blade. “Don’t do that,” you warned, your voice trembling. “Don’t make this about me being too much.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly, her tone too smooth, too rehearsed. “I’m just saying... maybe we’re both a little out of line here.”

“Out of line?” You scoffed, the hurt morphing back into anger, fueling the fire between you. “You kissed someone else, and I’m out of line for calling you out on it?”

Her jaw clenched, her shoulders squaring as her frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I’ll never do it again? Because I can’t promise that, alright? I can’t promise to be someone I’m not!”

The admission knocked the wind out of you, the raw honesty of it cutting deeper than any excuse ever could. You stared at her, your heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

And then, without thinking, you grabbed her face and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft or tender—it was a collision of lips and teeth, anger and desperation crashing together in a way that felt like drowning and breathing at the same time.

She didn’t hesitate. Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer, her frustration melting into something else entirely. For a moment, the world disappeared—the hurt, the anger, the confusion—and all that was left was her, her lips moving against yours like she was trying to prove something, to take back control.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Her lips brushed yours again, softer this time, almost apologetic. “I know,” she murmured.

But it didn’t stop her, or you, from letting it happen again. And again. And again.

This was the beginning of a vicious style. Paige would do something — something reckless or selfish or dismissive, something that cracked the fragile balance you were barely holding together. You would crash out, spinning into anger or heartbreak or desperation. Then, when the storm was at its peak, you’d collide in a mess of kisses and tangled limbs, pretending the hurt didn’t exist. And for a little while, it would work.

Rinse, repeat.

It was like a drug. The highs were euphoric — the way she’d whisper your name in the dark, the way her hands knew the map of your body like they’d been there a thousand lifetimes. But the lows were brutal. Paige wasn’t just in your life; she engulfed it. Even when she wasn’t physically there, she was everywhere — in your thoughts, in your chest, in the hollow ache that came from wanting more than she would ever give.

And yet, every time you told yourself this was the last time, she’d reel you back in.

It was always the same. She’d make promises she couldn’t keep. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I don’t want to lose you. They were just words, fragile and insubstantial, but you clung to them like a lifeline. Because even if Paige didn’t love you the way you needed her to, she made you feel.

But feelings weren’t enough. Not when the cycle kept repeating, each round leaving you a little more frayed, a little less whole.

Looking back, you didn’t see it at first. How could you? In those early days, it all still felt new, like you were learning each other in ways no one else ever had. The tension, the passion, even the arguments — it all felt alive.

But what you didn’t know then was that this wasn’t building toward something better. It wasn’t growth or healing or progress. It was just a loop, and the more you gave, the more it took.

And it all started here — in a practice gym with her teammates staring after you, with a kiss that should have been an apology but felt more like a warning.

This was how it was going to be. You just didn’t know it yet.

It was over long before she said it. That was the truth you’d been carrying for weeks, maybe even months, like a stone in your chest. The late nights tangled together, the whispered promises that never quite landed, the explosive fights that burned hot and fast — they were all just delaying the inevitable.

Paige didn’t love you. Not the way you loved her.

And even though you’d told yourself a hundred times that you’d walk away first, that you’d save yourself the heartbreak, there was a part of you that had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for her to finally say the words so you wouldn’t have to.

When she said them, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair messy and her lips still swollen from the argument-turned-kiss that had just played out like a broken record. Her voice was quiet, careful, like she thought if she said it gently enough, it wouldn’t hurt.

“I think we should just stay friends.”

Friends. As if that word hadn’t already been stretched beyond recognition between the two of you.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t yell. You didn’t say anything at all. You just nodded, a single dip of your head that felt like letting go of a thousand unspoken words.

Because by then, you were too tired to argue. Too numb to care. You’d given everything you had to Paige Bueckers — your heart, your time, your trust. And in the end, she’d left you with nothing but empty promises and the ache of what could have been.

She watched you, her expression unreadable, maybe expecting a reaction. But there was nothing left to give. No anger, no tears, not even the kind of hope that had once kept you tethered to her.

And that’s when you knew.

It had been over long before it was over.

The first few days after Paige walked away, you told yourself you were fine. Numbness had a way of masquerading as strength, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you believed it. You went about your routine mechanically, ignoring the ghost of her laugh that seemed to echo in every corner of your mind, or the phantom sensation of her fingertips trailing down your skin.

But it didn’t last.

The cracks began to show in the quiet moments, the ones you couldn’t fill with distractions. You’d see her everywhere — not in person, but in the lingering memories that clung to every inch of your life. The way she used to leave her hoodie draped over your chair. The playlist she made you that now sat like a ticking time bomb on your phone. Even the way the air smelled after it rained reminded you of her, of those late-night walks when the world felt small and it was just the two of you against everything.

Now, it was just you.

The nights were the worst. That was when the realization hit hardest, settling in your chest like a lead weight. She wasn’t coming back. And not only that, she seemed fine. Perfectly fine without you.

Social media became your own personal form of torture. Paige smiling with her teammates, Paige at practice, Paige at a party with her arm slung casually around someone else’s shoulders. She looked radiant, unbothered. And why wouldn’t she be? You were the one left unraveling, trying to pick up the pieces of something that had already been broken long before it officially ended.

You tried to bury yourself in distractions, in work, in friends, in anything that could occupy the space she used to fill. But nothing worked. Everywhere you turned, there she was, in your mind, in your heart, like she had embedded herself into the very fabric of your being.

The worst part was the silence. Paige hadn’t reached out — not once. Not to check on you, not to see if you were okay, not even to pretend that she cared. She had moved on seamlessly, like you were just a chapter she had finished reading. But you? You were stuck. Stuck rereading the same lines over and over, trying to figure out where it all went so wrong.

You hated her for it. And you hated yourself more for still wanting her, for craving the sound of her voice even when it was the last thing you should want to hear.

Sleep became elusive. You’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying every argument, every kiss, every unspoken promise. Your mind refused to let go, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. But deep down, you knew better. Paige had already moved on. And she wasn’t coming back.

It was a cruel kind of clarity, realizing how little you seemed to matter to her now. While you were drowning, she was breathing just fine.

And so, you began to sink. Not all at once, but slowly, steadily, as the days turned into weeks and the weight of her absence pressed down on you. You stopped checking your phone, stopped looking at her social media, stopped pretending you were okay. Because you weren’t. You were a mess, and she was gone, and there was no fixing what had been broken.

For the first time, you understood what it meant to lose yourself in someone. Paige had taken pieces of you when she left, pieces you weren’t sure you’d ever get back. And as much as you hated it, as much as you hated her for making you feel this way, you couldn’t deny the truth.

You still loved her. And that was the hardest part of all.

The first time you saw the picture, it felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. Paige stood there, her arm draped casually over a girl you didn’t recognize, her smile so effortlessly carefree it made your stomach churn. It wasn’t just the picture—it was what it represented.

She wasn’t hiding anymore.

For months, you had clung to the idea that Paige’s reluctance to be with you had been about timing, about her career, about her focus on basketball. You’d told yourself over and over that it wasn’t about you—that she wasn’t ready for anything, not just you. But seeing her like this, so at ease, so perfectly content in someone else’s arms, shattered that illusion into a thousand irreparable pieces.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t ready. She just didn’t want you.

The realization hit you harder than any of the fights, any of the cold silences, any of the times she had pushed you away only to pull you back in. This was different. This was final. And it sent you crashing in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

The next few days passed in a haze. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal person. Every time you closed your eyes, the image of her with that girl played on a loop in your mind. Her hand resting on her shoulder. The easy grin that you used to think was just for you. The sickening thought that this new girl got the version of Paige you’d always wanted but could never have.

Your friends tried to help. They texted, called, even showed up at your apartment uninvited, but nothing seemed to pull you out of the spiral. You were stuck, trapped in the memories of what could have been, haunted by the ghost of what never was.

And Paige? She was fine. She was more than fine. While you were unraveling, she was out there, living her life like nothing had happened, like you had never happened.

It wasn’t fair.

You replayed every moment in your head, dissecting every word, every touch, every promise she had made and broken. You thought about the nights she’d held you, the mornings when she’d whispered things you now realized she didn’t mean. You thought about the times she’d called you "important," like that word was supposed to mean something, like it was enough to keep you tethered to her while she gave you nothing in return.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. Not just at Paige, but at yourself. How had you let it get this far? How had you let her take so much of you, only to leave you with nothing?

But even as the anger simmered beneath the surface, it couldn’t erase the pain. Because no matter how much she hurt you, no matter how many times she let you down, a part of you still wanted her. You hated yourself for it, but it was the truth.

She was the love of your life—or at least, that’s what you had convinced yourself. And now, as you watched her move on so effortlessly, it felt like you had lost not just her, but a part of yourself.

You thought about the nights you’d spent together, the dreams you’d secretly dared to have, the way she had made you feel like the center of her universe, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You thought about the way she’d look at you sometimes, like you were the only person in the room, and you wondered if she ever looked at her new girlfriend like that.

The jealousy burned, but it was nothing compared to the ache of knowing you weren’t enough.

And that was the hardest part. Not the fights, not the breakups, not even seeing her with someone else. The hardest part was realizing that no matter how much you loved her, it was never going to be enough. She was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

But you still saw her everywhere. In the songs that played on the radio. In the basketball games you couldn’t bring yourself to watch anymore. In the small, stupid things that reminded you of her—like the way she used to steal the last piece of pizza or the way she’d hum under her breath when she thought no one was listening.

You wanted to hate her, to erase her from your mind and move on with your life. But how could you hate the person who had been your everything, even if only for a little while?

So you sat with the pain, let it wash over you like a tidal wave, drowning in the memories of a love that had never really been yours. And for the first time, you let yourself admit the truth: Paige had been the loss of your life. And no amount of time, no amount of distance, was ever going to change that.

PRESENT

You’re standing there, caught in the pull of her gaze, the space between you both charged with unspoken words. It feels like you’ve been here a thousand times before, standing on the edge, your heart teetering between wanting to stay and knowing you should walk away.

Paige’s hand still grips your wrist, and the simple touch feels like a tether. A lifeline. But you know better than to think it’s something more. She’s always been like this—holding on just enough to make you feel wanted, but never enough to pull you all the way in.

“Are you really fine?” she asks, her voice lower now, softer, like she’s trying to break through your walls. Her thumb moves in slow, deliberate circles against your skin, and for a brief moment, you feel the weight of the last few months—how everything has spiraled, how much you've tried to hold it all together.

You want to scream, to ask her why it’s always been this way, why she makes you feel like you’re the one losing the fight when you never even had a chance to begin with. But instead, you swallow it all down, pushing the rawness deep inside, out of sight.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, and this time, it sounds almost like a plea. A hope that if you say it enough, you’ll start to believe it.

Paige doesn’t let go. She studies your face like she’s looking for something—some crack in the surface that would make everything make sense.

You hate how easily she does it. How she makes you feel like you could fall apart right here, and she’d still somehow be the one holding it all together.

But she’s not the one holding the pieces anymore.

“Don’t do that,” Paige says, her voice a little rougher now, her grip tightening just slightly. “Don’t close off from me. We’ve never been good at that.”

You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes you. “We’ve never been good at anything,” you snap, but the words feel too raw, too real for this moment.

She flinches, just barely, but you see it. You see the way her shoulders tense, the way her jaw clenches. It’s a reaction you’re so used to by now—the shift in her, the way she pulls back whenever you push too hard, whenever you force her to confront the mess between you two.

But this time, there’s something else in her eyes. Something you can’t quite place. Maybe it’s guilt, or maybe it’s regret. But it’s there, lurking beneath the surface, and it stirs something in you.

“I didn’t mean that,” you add quickly, your voice softer now, almost apologetic. But the damage is already done. The walls between you, the ones you’ve spent months building and reinforcing, are beginning to crumble.

Paige shakes her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “You never do.”

You don’t know what to say to that. The truth is, you’ve always known. You’ve always known that Paige was never going to be the one who could fix this. Fix you.

“I’m sorry,” she says after a beat, and the words hang in the air between you like a promise you both know she can’t keep.

It’s the same thing she’s always said. The same thing she said when she left. The same thing she said when she came back. And each time, it meant less and less.

You swallow hard, blinking away the sting in your eyes. “It’s fine,” you whisper, but the words feel hollow. Because it isn’t fine. It never will be.

Paige looks like she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she leans in, her lips brushing against your cheek in a fleeting, soft kiss.

It’s nothing. It’s everything.

And just like that, everything falls back into place, if only for a moment. She pulls away, her hand still around your wrist, keeping you there, keeping you close—but not close enough.

You don’t know what’s worse: the way she makes you feel like you’re everything she’s ever wanted, or the way she makes you feel like you were never really a part of her at all.

You look into her eyes one last time, and for a moment, you see something there—something that makes you think maybe, just maybe, she feels it too.

But before you can get lost in it, she’s already pulling back, walking away. And you’re left standing there, once again, at the edge of it all.

The gym feels cold now. The bouncing basketballs echo through the space like the rhythm of your own heartbeat—distant, unsteady, and out of sync with everything else.

And in that moment, you realize something.

You’re never going to be okay with this. Not really.

But you’ll keep pretending, even if she has a girlfriend. Even if you've "moved on". Because that’s all you know how to do.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[harringtonstilinski]

The Alchemy Pt2 - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 3,793 Warnings: fluff, micro angst Requested: no | yes; i'm saying yes on this 'cause y'all wanted a pt2, lol Smut: no | yes; oral (m+f receiving), protected piv (m+f), A/N: Hi, friends! Here's Pt2! For the schmutty scene, I grabbed some descriptive words/scenes (can't think of the word i'm looking for, lol) that I've read in books. Let me know what you thought! If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

FIVE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

The past five and a half months that you and Eddie have been together has been nothing short of amazing. He treats you better than Steve ever did, takes you out on dates more than Steve did, and even does things that you want to do or talk to you about things you seem interested in.

Of course, you do all that right back for Eddie, as well. You sit and listen to him read off the newest campaign he’d written for Hellfire, you listen intently to him ramble on about new things he’s interested in, and you even try new things that he seems interested in.

You look at Eddie like he’s the most gorgeous person on the planet, and he looks at you the same exact way. The love you two have for each other grows by the second. You can’t even think about the classwork in front of you because that metal loving boy of yours infiltrates your mind.

“Hey,” you heard someone whisper. Looking around, your eyes caught Steve’s next to you. “Pay attention or else you’re gonna get called on.”

“Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “Care to share what you’re speaking about with the rest of class?”

Steve looked at Mrs. O’Donnell, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. As he stammered, you rolled your eyes, and raised your hand and said, “Mrs. O’Donnell, he was just reminding me about picking my brother up after school.”

“NIce to see you two getting along. Now, please, a little less talking, a little more paying attention.”

You and Steve said yes ma’am at the same time before going back to your respective notes. When you began doodling again, you looked up at seeing a face in the window of the door, an instant smile blooming on your lips. Looking at the clock, you sighed. “Five more minutes,” you mouthed, not wanting to get in trouble my Mrs. O’Donnell.

The person that ended up getting into trouble was, in fact, Eddie.

“Eddie Munson,” she sighed. When she opened the door, Eddie stepped in a couple of steps. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, you know,” Eddie said, leaning his shoulder against the wall near him. “Just walking around during my free period. Thought I’d come by and see my lady.” He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, giving you a smirk. 

Covering your face with one of your hands, you looked down at your desk, whispering, “Oh, my god,” before hearing everyone in the room chuckle at your embarrassment.

Yes, Eddie embarrassed you a lot, and you let him know every afternoon when you showed up at his house. Did you embarrass Eddie? Hell no, only because nothing really embarrasses Eddie, but you’ve thought about it once or twice.

Before you could actually fall from your desk and die right on the spot, the bell rang and you sighed a breath of relief, but as you gathered your stuff, you heard Steve whisper your name. “Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Can we talk?” he asked, looking a little… dejected? What could he be feeling sad about?

“Uhh, sure,” you said. “Just let me put my stuff in Eddie’s van and then I’ll meet you at your car?”

“Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d just meet me there first.”

“Oh.” You furrowed your brows just the slightest. “Yeah. Let me, uhm… let me tell Eddie what’s going on.”

Steve nodded before standing from his desk, notebook and pencil in hand, to walk out of the room. You followed after a moment and a head shake later, finding Eddie waiting for you at your locker.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Chuckling, you twisted the lock on your locker to the correct numbers as you responded, “Okay. Keep that nickname for your guitar,” you said, placing your school belongings into their homes. Closing the door, you looked at Eddie with all the love and affection you could muster. “I think I’ll stick with the nickname you unknowingly gave me.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

Wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck, you didn’t care that you had a small audience, and by audience; almost the whole of Hellfire. “Love. Baby. Babe. My love.” Placing your lips on his, you sighed, waiting to do this all day.

Sure, the two of you kissed, but it wasn’t sweet like the one you were currently sharing. The ones you’d shared during the day were more chaste; short and sweet. Not sweet; long and unmoving.

At the sounds of all the kissy sounds and ooh’s and aah’s coming from the rest of the group, you split apart and turned your heads to face your friends, Eddie’s voice cutting through to say, “Okay, you’re all dead in the next campaign.”

When the group went quiet, you could see the horror in their eyes; they’d spent weeks building up their characters' healths and stats. They didn’t want to die within a couple of rolls of the dice. 

Looking up at Eddie, you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ll meet you at the van in a few minutes.”

“Why, what’s up?” Eddie asked, placing one of his hands on your cheek. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just…” You paused for a moment, trying to put together the right words in the right order. “Uhm, Steve’s asked me to meet him at his car so we can talk. I’m not sure what he wants to talk about, though.”

Dropping his hand to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, all Eddie could do was look into your eyes. “You’re not…-”

“Oh, god, no!” you exclaimed. “I’m not taking him back. You have nothing to worry about. I love you.”

Softly smiling and bringing his hand to tuck a strand piece of hair behind your ear, Eddie continued to look at you. “Okay, sweetheart. And for the record; I love you, too.”

Smiling at your amazing boyfriend, you rose up to your tiptoes, placing a kiss to his lips. “You better or else I’m gonna expose your newest campaign to Hellfire and have them kick your sorry little ass.”

Placing a hand over his heart, Eddie feigned hurt. “You wouldn’t.”

As you place your heels back on the ground, your smile never faltering, you respond, “Yes, I would. Now, march your hot ass to your van, blast your favorite tape at the moment, and wait patiently for me, okay?”

“Okay, princess,” Eddie replied, cupping your cheek. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, all but dragging you out of the school and to the parking lot. 

When you saw Steve looking down as he was leaning against his car, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad for him. I wonder what’s gotten him so down, you thought to yourself. Looking back up at Eddie, you kissed him before telling him you’d meet him at his van before walking over to Steve.

“Steve?”

The King himself looked up at you before quickly wiping at his eyes. Ever the comforting person that you are, you set your stuff down on the hood of his car and quickly made your way over to him, the both of you wrapping your arms around each other.

You let him silently cry on your shoulder for a few minutes before quietly asking, “What happened?”

Picking his head up, Steve whispered, “Nancy broke up with me. Turns out, she was cheating on me with Jonathan the last six weeks.”

“Oh, shit, Steve. I’m so sorry.” As his eyes met yours, you could see the question swirling within them. “Steve-”

“No, I know your answer, and I don’t expect you to dump Eddie to come back to me. I mean, I do want you to come back to me, but… as a friend, not a girlfriend. I miss you… a-as a friend.”

“Steve, it’s okay if you miss me like that, too. It’s just… I love Eddie, and honestly, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with him. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy with you, too, but… there’s certain things that Eddie does that’s… different from you.”

“How’s he treating you?”

“I think you know that answer,” you chuckled.

The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips before he responded, “Like a princess.”

“Exactly.”

It was quiet between the two of you for about a minute before Steve said, “The way I should’ve treated you.”

“Steve-”

“No, let me get this out,” he said. “You’re an amazing girl, and I should’ve treated you a lot better than what I did right there at the end.”

“Your jealousy is what ended our relationship, Steve. You got super fucking jealous that I was trying to make time to spend with Eddie. I mean, you were hanging out with all your basketball friends, as well as Tommy H. and Carol. You never let me have free time to spend with my friends.”

Nodding along to your words, he agreed. “Yeah. I was a pretty big asshole, wasn’t I?” He chuckled at the end of his statement.

“You were. But I know that you can get back to the Steve that I fell in love with.”

Smirking at you, Steve said, “Thanks. For being there for me.”

“Steve, I’m still your friend, and I’ll always be here for you.” Giving him a hug, you welcomed the embrace you gave to him, feeling his arms going around your middle. Pulling away, you said, “I have to go. If you need anything, just call my line. You know my number.”

“Thanks,” Steve said again before getting into his car, watching you walk to Eddie’s van.

Once you got close enough, Eddie slid out from his seat to catch you as you jumped into his arms. He spun you around a couple of times before stopping to just hold you for a moment. Looking out over at Steve, he gave a curt nod, your ex-boyfriend giving one back before he drove away.

Setting you back down on your feet, Eddie’s hands rested on your waist as he looked you into your perfectly colored eyes. “How was your talk?”

“It was… good,” you said, a small smile creeping up on your face. “He just needed someone to be there for him.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Eddie asked, “What happened?”

“Uhm,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Nancy’s been cheating on him with Jonathan for the last two months. He also wanted us to be friends again, and came to the realization that he didn’t treat me the way you do. I told him I’d always be there for him ‘cause, ya’know… that’s just how I am.”

“And that’s what I love about you.”

You hummed, looking up at your loving boyfriend. “I’m starving. Wanna go to Benny’s? I got cash!”

“Where’d you get it?” Eddie asked, walking you around to the passenger seat, which Eddie has dubbed as your seat.

“Told my mom that I’d be home late, so she gave me cash.”

“What about your brother?”

Shrugging, you replied, “He has A/V Club today, so he’ll probably go to Mike’s house afterward and play some D&D.”

“Wait. He plays?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, nodding. “He loves it. He and his friends play in the basement of the Wheeler’s house. I think one of their campaigns lasted ten hours!”

“Holy shit. Sounds like one hell of a campaign,” Eddie smiled. “I would love to play with him and his friends one day.”

“You might!” you happily exclaimed. “I’ve been telling them about Hellfire, and of course the end of the year party last year was at our house, and he was telling me when you guys left that night that he wanted to be a part of Hellfire when he got into High School.”

“And he will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Eddie, you’re gonna graduate by then.”

He shrugged. “You never know. Especially with Mrs. O’Donnell.” The roll of his eyes and snarl of his lip make your chuckle turn into a full blown laugh. Eddie smiled, himself, at seeing the happiness on your face. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, he said, “How about this; how about we go to the video store, pick out your favorite movie - yes, it can be a Disney movie - and then we’ll go home and watch it while snuggling up on the couch. What do you say?”

“Hmmm, I say that’s perfect,” you said, softly before placing your lips sweetly upon his.

~~~

What ended up with you and Eddie watching a sweet innocent movie turned into a full blown make-out session right there on the couch. You both were thanking your lucky stars that Wayne was already at work. 

You were straddling his lap, sitting up as straight as you could with Eddie’s hands splayed out on your back, your tongues and lips moving together in sync. His lips moved from your own to your cheek down to your jaw and then finally landed on your neck, where he worked your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. “I love it when you do that.”

Unlatched his lips from your neck, he looked you in the eyes and said, “I love that I get to do this to you.”

Smiling, you brought your hands back to his cheeks, gently cupping them before replying, “I love that you love that you get to do that to me,” before kissing his lips once more.

Feeling Eddie’s slip under your shirt and up to your bra had you stilling for a moment, pulling back a little to look into Eddie’s eyes. The two of you hadn’t had sex yet, but he’d played with your nipples, and that’s as far as you would let him go. 

You wanted to have sex with Eddie, and he you, but neither of you voiced your thoughts on the subject. You thought that your make-out sessions and  it would just happen one day while the two of you were alone. Eddie wanted to have a conversation with you about it first because he didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

Swallowing your nerves, you breathed a quiet, shuddering breath. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“Are we about to, uhm…”

Playing the hair by your ear before gently cupping your jaw, Eddie whispered, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. Okay? There’s no pressure.”

“No, no, I-I… I want to.” Trailing your fingertips over his bottom lip, you watched as you did, thinking about your next words before saying them, something your grandma had taught you in your youth. “I’ve been wanting to, but I was just gonna let nature take its course with it. Like, I wasn’t gonna stop you or anything.”

Lightly chuckling, Eddie replied, “Well, I was wanting to talk to you about it first, but since you’re just wanting nature to take its course with us having sex, I’m not opposed to it,” before kissing you, passionately.

Feeling Eddie standing from the couch, you wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands went to your ass to keep you from falling as your lips went to town on his neck.

Next thing you knew, you heard a door shut before your back met the mattress. You looked up at Eddie, seeing nothing but love and warmth and lust and passion and all the other words that describe the word “love”.

Softly smiling, you brought your hands up to cheeks, softly cupping them as your thumbs gently rubbed across his skin. After a few seconds, you breathed, “Have I told you recently that I love you?”

Eddie quietly chuckled, looking down at a random spot on your shirt. He loved hearing those words fall from your lips. “Everyday for three months, my love.” Lowering himself to his forearms to not crush you, he added, “I hope I get to hear it everyday for the rest of my life.”

“Rest assured, Edward Wayne, you will.” Running your fingers through his curly locks, you kept the smile that he permanently put on your lips. “Now, make love to me, Eddie.  I want to feel all of you.”

Before you could even lift your head to press your lips to his, Eddie leaned his down and gently placed his lips on yours. Your lips moved in a sweet, slow, and loving sync while shedding each other’s shirts and your bra, but before either of you could shed from the waist down, Eddie leaned back on his legs and reached up to remove the guitar pick necklace he wore.

When he grabbed your hands to sit you up, you  tried to protest, but Eddie being Eddie, he didn’t want to hear whatever it was you were about to say. “No. I want you to wear this. It was my first pick that I ever received.”

“Eddie, I-”

“Baby, you mean the world to me, and I would love nothing more than to see your beautiful naked ass wearing nothing but this,” he continued, holding the chain by the ends in between the two of you. “I love you. You mean everything to me.”

With tears in your eyes, you moved your hair from your neck to over your shoulder just  before Eddie leaned forward to place the necklace around your neck, fastening it  in place.

“There,” he whispered. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You couldn’t help the emotion that was washing over you.  “Kiss me, you fool.”

Laughing, Eddie placed his lips on yours once again, laying you back down. Neither of you knew how much time had passed before he placed his forehead on yours, lightly panting from the makeout sessions you two just had.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Are we gonna have sex now?”

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Eddie looked at you while his hand trailed down  your sternum and belly to the button on your jeans. “Yes, baby. We’re going to have sex now.”

Popping the button of your jeans, Eddie leaned back up to unzip them before pulling material, as well as your underwear, down your legs, dropping them to the floor beside him. You reached forward, popping the button on his jeans as well before sliding his zipper down.

Getting off the bed, Eddie removed his jeans and boxers, his hard cock standing at attention. Smirking while reaching into his nightstand for a condom, he asked, “Like what you see, love?”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” you said, sliding off the bed to kneel in front of him. Without another word, you grabbed his cock while looking into his eyes before dragging your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the prominent vein pulse.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie breathed. “You gonna take my cock in your mouth?”

Not giving an answer, you took him into your mouth, closing your eyes and letting out a soft moan before bobbing your head. Sure, you’d given blowjobs before but none that you enjoyed. Even though this is your first time giving Eddie one, you were actually enjoying it… and so was Eddie.

You’ve told him stories about your hair being grabbed, or the guy facefucking you when you asked him not to do it. So, as Eddie watches you do your thing, he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Grabbing at his own hair, he leaned his head, letting out a soft, guttural “Ffffuuuuuuuucccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk,” and before he could bust his load down your throat, he reached down and tapped your cheek. “Stand up, my love.”

Standing, you looked confused, inwardly telling yourself that you already fucked up.

At seeing the look on your face, Eddie cupped your cheeks, a soft smile on his face. “If I didn’t stop you, I would’ve come down your throat. I want to be inside your pussy when I do that.”

“Well, I guess you better get to it then,” you said, smiling cheekily.

“Oh, I will. But, first, I gotta taste you.” 

Before you knew it, while giggling,  your back met the mattress again, your legs spreading before a gasp left your lips at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on your aching cunt. “Fuck, Eddie. Holy shit.” Your brain was going a million miles an hour as Eddie lapped and sucked and kissed your core. “Oh,my–” Your words were cut off as your release hit you out of nowhere.

As Eddie kissed his way back up your stomach to  your lips, all he could do was smile, and as he kissed you, you could feel it on your lips, as well as taste yourself on your tongue. “How was that?” he asked, that smile ever present on his face.

“Fucking amazing,” you breathed. “Now, stick that cock inside me and make me come again.”

Without missing a beat, Eddie looked at the foil package in his hands, tearing it open before rolling the condom down his length. Looking down at his length, Eddie grabbed it, guiding it to your entrance, pressing the tip of his cock gently into you as he looked into your eyes. Once you gave him a nod of approval, he guided his cock inside of you, both of you groaning at the feeling of each other.

“Damn, baby,” Eddie gritted out, trying to keep his breathing in check. “You feel fucking amazing.”

“Oh, my– fuck!” You couldn’t concentrate on anything let alone form words as his cock pounded into you, your back arching the slightest bit. “That’s it, Eddie-” Moan. “Just like that. Don’t stop, baby.”

Eddie could feel sweat start to form on his brow, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours. “Fuck, baby, I don’t think-” Moan. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He could feel his balls start to tighten, his impending orgasm creeping up on him. “Yeah, I won’t last much longer.”

“Keep going,”  you breathed. “I’m almost there, I’m almost–” Your own orgasm cut off  your words, your walls tightening on Eddie’s cock as he rocked his hips one, two, three more times before his own orgasm hit.

While the two of you were coming down from your highs, the only things you heard and felt were both of your heavy breathing and Eddie’s lip on your shoulder before feeling his forehead rest on yours.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered.

As you opened your eyes, a soft smile danced on your lips, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks ever so gently before replying with your own whispered words, “I love you, too.”

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

A/N 2:  hi, friends! i'm so so sorry this took forever to get out. writer' block hit me like a brick! plus, i've been reading books like crazy, and i've gone in and out of depression episode. thanks for sticking around! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i'm trying to add the character masterlists and playlists onto all my one-shots from here on out! let me know if it makes it easier for y'all to back and choose!

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on November 21, 2024

[chanranghaeys]

👼 a regular korean citizen

pairing: idol!active duty!jeonghan x gn!reader word count: 817 genre: fluff, slice of life rating: pg tags: sleepy couple, morning musings, mainly an imagine of sorts, reader is tired bc of work, mentions of active korean military duty are NOT accurate and i do not claim their accuracy so please bear with my descriptions i rly did just make them up as i went warnings: none request from my love, tara (@diamonddaze01)! “one waking up before the other, so they make up their side of the bed and can’t help but tuck in their sleeping lover as they do so” with jeonghan pls and thank u i miss my husband a/n: thank u lovely tara! i indeed got out of the dreaded writing slump. and it’s my first time writing jeonghan so i hope i did him justice for u!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Jeonghan distinctly remembers going to sleep on his own with no one else on the bed. It was a pleasant surprise for him to see you on the other side when he rolled over.

If there was anything he enjoyed most about being an active member of the Korean military, it was that he was not subject to the grueling demands of an idol’s schedule. He could just be a regular Korean citizen—something he hasn’t had the luxury to experience in about a decade.

He couldn’t say the same for you, though, who also worked in the entertainment industry with hours just as long as his used to be. It was evident in the way you were sprawled over the bed, caring less about how you looked and how you ended up sleeping. Your neck was in such an awkward position compared to your body that Jeonghan was so sure you’d wake up with a stiff neck, and he would not allow that.

He knew you were as much of a light sleeper as he was. And as much as he wanted to caress your face or smooth down your hair, he shouldn’t for fear of waking you up from a much-deserved slumber.

But he wasn’t Yoon Jeonghan, part-time troublemaker, for nothing. And he missed you, as he did every day, so what other reason could there be to justify him not holding the love of his life as dearly as he wanted to?

You must’ve been absolutely drained because you didn’t even react at the gentlest of his touches. Jeonghan smiled and continued his soft strokes on your head. A forehead kiss did merit the slightest reaction from you—an automatic one where you seemed to involuntarily lean into the touch of his lips making contact on your skin.

He smirked. If only you could see it and how much it gave away how smug he felt to see you still craving for his touch. He checked the time from the standard military watch on his hand—5:37 am. It was time for him to get up.

He checked his phone, tapping into your work calendar to see your schedule. You still had a few hours of sleep left before your shoot scheduled for 1 pm. That was good, he thought, you need all the rest before another chaotic variety show shoot until whatever ungodly hour of the night.

The military discipline easily merged with Jeonghan’s idol discipline. It may not be the same for all fellow idols on active duty, but others have mentioned how similar both were. It was the implicit and discrete need for order and organization that both disciplines shared. It made sure everything was clean-cut and picture-perfect for idols on screen, and that everyone followed uniform standards with a code of conduct for active soldiers to learn.

Jeonghan was used to it. And such disciplines included even the simplest task of making the bed. He fluffed his pillow, he fixed the sheets he messed up on his side with a military tuck—and you didn’t even budge. You were out cold.

Jeonghan huffed a sigh, running his hands through his short-cropped hair—something he was still getting used to. “Aigoo-yaaaaa” was all he said with all the endearment in his heart.

He shuffled over to your side and, as gently as he could, fixed your sleeping position to avoid that impending stiff neck of yours. He also fixed the clothes already riding up in places because of how haphazardly you put them on. Thankfully, you remembered to remove your makeup before going to sleep this time. He was almost late for duty the last time he stayed to carefully remove it for you while you slept.

Carefully, he fluffed up your pillow and fixed the sheets as much as possible. He opened up the blanket and let it rest on your sleeping figure. He so badly wanted to engulf you in a warm embrace, but he loved tucking you in and seeing your relaxed expression just as much.

He left one final parting gift: a kiss on your cheek. Okay, maybe more than one gift—another kiss, a light brush of his lips on yours.

Jeonghan’s military enlistment allowed him to be a regular Korean citizen. That just gave him more opportunities to spend time with you and treat you the way a regular Korean citizen would. It was a welcome break for your relationship if it meant he could love you without all of the lights and cameras and judgmental eyes in the way.

Walking from the bedroom to the kitchen, he checked his phone once again and opened the calendar app. Peering at the time block for 7 pm later, he made sure his schedule and yours was a free time block. He couldn’t wait to share the wild stories about him and his fellow military men that would have to wait until tonight.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: still accepting requests for my little drabble request game! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3

post post a/n: svt won TWO daesangs at mama 2024 today!! HUHU i am proud of my bois (∩˃o˂∩)♡

[vrystalius]

hello! i'm thirsty for some douma fluff, so i'd like to request the fluffliest fluff of him and reader (fem or gn, whichever you prefer ;]) being the most clingy dorks in love, spending most of their time kissing and cuddling (bonus if his followers are witnessing the cute moment of both)

(if you can't do it, i'll understand. but either way, i love your blog, have a good day! <3)

His dearest darling

The founder and priest of the Eternal Paradise group is always so openly affectionate with you, is there something Douma’s followers haven’t seen him do to you?

Pairing: Douma x gn!reader

Includes: Kisses, Cuddles, love letters

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚ - Kisses

All day, all night, every hour and every minute. Douma loves kisses out of nowhere the most, surprising you every time. He likes seeing the look of surprise take over your face and your cheeks flush in the most beautiful colour as he snuck up from behind you and planted a featherlight kiss on your neck. Sometimes, he’ll spin you around and rip your attention away from whatever you were doing and cupping your face to plant a kiss on your lips, humming in content and pulling away with a big, stupid grin.

Your kisses give him small boosts of energy throughout the day and encourage him to keep going and endure all the stress and boredom that comes with being the founder and head priest of the Eternal Paradise cult. Douma doesn’t care who watching, if he’s feeling especially tired or bored, he will be making out with you wherever and whenever. The elders of the cult may be judging him for being so openly affectionate with you, but then again, why should he care? Douma can dispose of them easily anyway.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚ - Cuddles

Douma will whine and pout all day when you don’t give him the mandatory cuddles he needs to survive. He’s a very touchy demon, whenever you’re close, his hand is resting on your hip or interlocking fingers with yours, or mindlessly playing with your hair. He adores holding you close to his chest and feel your calm heartbeat through your skin and clothes, silently admiring the vulnerability you display over and over to him, wondering how you ended up falling for a demon like him.

Sometimes, some sort of cuteness-aggression takes over his whole body and Douma would pull you closely against his body, trapping your body in his arms and wrapping his legs around yours while laying on top of you, rubbing his cheek all against your face, sometimes even nibbling on your skin while squealing and cooing at you. After those sessions of your husband loosing his shit over you merely existing, Douma goes back to his duties and tasks like nothing happened.

It’s a little embarrassing when he does this randomly in the middle of the halls. His behaviour won’t be as aggressive, meaning he won’t pounce and refuse to release you until he’s satisfied, but he’d hug you tightly and cover your face in kisses before moving on.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚ - Letters

When you two are apart for multiple days on end, Douma makes sure to send out letters expressing his love for you every single day. Sometimes those letters include rather… explicit language when describing his longing and desire for both you and your body, but they do make you excited for returning back to him and demanding him to do the things he fantasises about in those letters.

Once, one of these lovely letters was handed to a follower that was supposed to send it out to you, but mistakenly opened and read it, believing it was meant for him. He never saw his priest in the same light as before and never shared with the other followers what he read inside that letter. Everytime that follower was asked about it, their expression would resemble the so called 1000-yard-stare.

💠

Gods, I missed this stupid demon so much XD I am so sorry that this took so long to post, I hope you enjoyed this anyway!! Thank you for requesting, I loved this <3

DRINK, EAT and SLEEP enough!

Make sure to take care of yourselves, mentally and physically <3

[kvzcs]

heian era! sukuna x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, slight degrading, fluff, sukuna being the diva he is, br33ding, mentions of pregnancy, not proof read !! credits to cafekitsune for the divider x

authors note: hope you guys enjoy this !! sorry for the inactivity, there's just been so many exams since it's nearly the end of the year x but I'll try my best to continue being active, enjoy !! xo

heian era! sukuna who no matter what, will always get you what's you want. you want food that's meant for 2 people? food is delivered without a thought, you want a three karat gold necklace with his initials but can't afford it? boom, it's on your neck an hour later that wasn't the only thing that was around your neck that same night

heian era! sukuna who secretly enjoys the little moments you have with him. when you join him on his throne making your way to his lap, he loves when you go straight to cuddling his neck as you two sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you give him a few kisses. "hi sukuna" you say looking up at him giggling with a smile on your face "what d'ya want brat" he says pretending to be annoyed before wrapping all 4 arms around you "nothingg just missed you" you say as you lean your head against his shoulder smiling while you wrap your arms around his waist as you two find peace in each other's arms (he may or may not have been smiling while you weren't looking)

heian era! sukuna who can't help but fall in love harder everyday. he enters your shared bedroom as his eyes are set on your beautiful features as you lightly snore on your desk. he smiles to himself as he walks over and picks you up with ease as he walks over to the large bed and places you down. you reach out for him still asleep, his gaze softens as a smile creeps onto his face as he lies down next to you placing your head onto his muscular chest as he wraps 2 arms around your waist one supporting the back of your head and the other one on top of the blankets as he stares at you longingly. "i love you, you little brat" he whispers as he kisses the crown of your head as you two sleep in each other's company

heian era! sukuna who wants you to be the mother of his children. he doesn't want anybody but you, especially after seeing you interacting with the village children. seeing you with them ignites a fire inside of him and that's how you ended up on your back in a mating press. "f-fuck! 'k-kuna! whats gotten 'nta y-you?" you moan out before feeling him thrust deeper "j-just shut up 'n take this c-cock" he growls as his thrusts fasten, despite the angry tone of his voice you know he's just trying to cover up the fact he's enjoying himself. "o-oh fuck, i think im gonna c-cum!" you moan as your eyes start to roll back "let go 'm queen, take your kings cock deep inside 'yer pussy, might just get you pregnant" he groans out while letting out a throaty chuckle as he watches you melt into his touch "p-please get me pregnant, 'wanna have your kids!" you whimper out cock drunk before cumming around his cock. "oh y-yea?" he says in a low dangerous voice as he starts thrusting into you at inhumane speed as he pushes your thighs past your ears as he stares into your eyes. "t-take i-it all!" he moans loudly before throwing his head back as he emptied himself inside of you painting your insides white. you two stay in that position for a while as the room is filled with breathing and the smell of sex, he then slowly pulls out his cock as he watches as his cum drips out your pussy, you watch as he uses two fingers to push it back in as you softly moan "can't waste a drop" he says before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him as you rest your head onto his muscular chest. "you okay my love? did i hurt you?" he softly says, you smile "yea im okay, just excited to have kids with you, and if you mean hurt me in the best way possible then yeah" you say giggling as he rolls his eyes jokingly before kissing the top of your head "i wouldn't wanna have it with anyone else but you" he murmers. you smile and kiss his cheek before you two cuddle and slowly start to drift to sleep.

hope you guys enjoyed, please reblog if you did, it motivates me 🫶🏽 lmk if I need to improve on something or if you have any requests, but love you guys & see you in the next one !!

[nerdallwritey]

About to Strike (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.  OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.

“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.

“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”

“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”

Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”

Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”

“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”

Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”

“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“I am not!”

Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”

“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.

“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.

You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered. 

Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”

The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?” 

He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”

“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”

Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”

You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.

Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?

You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.

You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.

“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”

Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”

He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”

“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”

Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.” 

You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”

“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.

“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”

“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly. 

Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”

“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.

“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”

“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”

“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”

Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”

Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”

And what a day it had been. 

Or, tenday, more like.

~~~~~

The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy. 

You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”

You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”

Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.

“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso. 

Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing. 

“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.

“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.

You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.

“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent. 

Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”

“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”

“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”

Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”

“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent. 

You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise. 

“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”

Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”

“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.

Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin. 

You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”

Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”

He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan. 

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-” 

“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.

“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.

Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”

“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly. 

“Woof,” Karlach said.

You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”

Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”

You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”

You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”

Astarion cleared his throat loudly.

“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent. 

Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you. 

You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?” 

He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”

Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”

He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”

You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

~~~~~

And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day. 

It all felt very nice.

Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.

The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.

On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.

“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”

“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”

“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you. 

You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.

Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.

You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction. 

“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.

“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.

“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.

Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”

“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.

Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you. 

You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”

He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.” 

He made no move to leave your side.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees. 

Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”

“Well, I-”

“No,” said every other person at camp at once.

“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”

“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug. 

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.

“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”

“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.

“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”

You kicked him.

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”

“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.

 Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”

“Thank you…” you murmured again.

Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”

You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”

He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.

“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Let me-” 

“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up. 

Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night. 

~~~~~

It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own. 

It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions. 

The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body. 

“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.

“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.

Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest. 

Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better. 

“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.

You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going. 

“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”

Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.” 

You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”

He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.” 

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”

You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”

He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”

You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”

He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”

You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”

He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”

You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”

“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear. 

“I’m serious.”

“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”

You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”

“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.

Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”

“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”

Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”

You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”

He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”

It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche. 

Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”

~~~~~

The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions. 

Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before. 

“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent. 

“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags. 

“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.

“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books. 

You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”

“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”

You snorted. “Okay, so what-”

“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”

“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.

Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear. 

“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.

You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head. 

He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”

You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.” 

Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”

You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.

“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin. 

You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression. 

“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands. 

“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.

“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away. 

Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear. 

Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks. 

“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”

“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly. 

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”

“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin. 

Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.” 

Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”

“It’s only natural-”

“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”

Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”

You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp. 

Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around.  “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”

“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off. 

Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go. 

You looked over at him. “Moment over?”

“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”

You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”

Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!” 

You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.

“See?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”

You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”

“Because…?”

“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”

“Because you’re still sore-”

“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”

Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly. 

You frowned at him. “Asshole.”

Kiss. “Darling.” 

“Bat brain.”

Kiss. “Beautiful.” 

“Priss.”

Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss,  I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”

You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair. 

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 

He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”

“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”

Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”

You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’” 

“That’s different.” 

“How so?”

If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words. 

“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”

You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.” He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”

You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”

He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”

“Good answer.”

“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.” 

You met his eye again and saw his features soften. 

“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”

You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”

Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”

You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”

“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”

Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.” 

You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”

He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”

Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”

A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”

You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”

“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”

That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”

He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”

If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”

“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.” 

He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”

“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time. 

Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.

“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”

Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.

“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again. 

Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.

“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you. 

He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”

You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”

“Tsk'va!”

You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart. 

“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”

Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”

You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”

Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels. 

“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.

“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.

You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”

“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow. 

“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”

Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”

You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”

“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”

“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”

“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”

“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”

“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin. 

“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly. 

“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”

Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”

You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process. 

“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”

“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain. 

~~~~~

After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.

That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate. 

“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly. 

As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”

“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.” 

Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp. 

Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area. 

Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?” 

“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”

Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”

“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance. 

Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”

Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”

Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.

“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”

“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other. 

Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went. 

“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you. 

Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”

You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area. 

“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”

“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”

Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips. 

“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin. 

“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”

Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.

It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider. 

Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.

He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”

“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.

“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”

“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”

“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.

“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”

“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.

“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”

From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!” 

“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.

The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”

“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”

“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”

Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute. 

“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.

The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.

You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”

“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely. 

A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”

You nodded and took your lute off your back,strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons. 

“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”

“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight. 

You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction. 

The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you. 

When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches. 

The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”

Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin. 

“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river. 

“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.

“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches. 

“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.

“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned. 

“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”

“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”

~~~~~

“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.

Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?” 

“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”

“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.

Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”

“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you. 

“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you. 

Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you. 

“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”

She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”

“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement. 

You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.

“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief. 

“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth. 

Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”

Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion. 

He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. 

“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”

“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”

“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.” 

“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper. 

“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. 

He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.

Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. 

“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.

“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 

Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”

“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.

Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”

“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.

“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”

“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”

Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.

“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”

“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”

“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.

“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”

You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”

Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?” 

You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.

“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”

You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.

“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”

“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.

Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”

“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”

Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?” 

Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.” 

“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.

“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.” 

“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”

“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.

“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”

“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”

“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” he slumped. “What gave it away?”

She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”

You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares. 

“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. 

She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”

“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”

“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.

Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”

Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”

Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.

“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.

“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.

“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.

Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”

Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”

Lae’zel shrugged.

Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”

Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”

“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”

You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument. 

You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”

He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.

Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.

“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks. 

“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.” 

“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked. 

“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse. 

“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.

“The room,” Astarion said anyway. 

“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”

“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”

“Ooowww,” you moaned.

“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”

“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”

“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed. “Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.

Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.

When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.

“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail. 

“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”

When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.

Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement. 

“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over. 

“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Championship love

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Max one-shot inspired by him winning the championship for the fourth time !!

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

You've been by Max's side for as long as you can remember. Teenagers with wild dreams and even wilder hearts, you both grew up together—through the awkward phases, the endless karting weekends, and the late-night phone calls where he shared his hopes of making it big in Formula 1. And he did. You’ve celebrated every step of his journey, but nothing compares to how you’ve marked each of his world championships together.

2011: The first time Max won the championship, it felt surreal. You were in Abu Dhabi, tears streaming down your face as he crossed the finish line and screamed over the radio. That night, back in the hotel room, it was just the two of you. Max was exhausted but glowing with pride, the trophy on the bedside table. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you like it was the first time, whispering, “This is just the beginning.”

2022: His second championship was no less thrilling. Max insisted on celebrating at home in Monaco, just the two of you again. He cooked you dinner—well, tried to. Half-burnt pasta and wine turned into laughter and slow dancing in the kitchen. He held you close, murmuring, “I couldn’t have done this without you.” You knew he meant it.

2023: The third title was chaotic—Sprint race in Qatar. But later that night, back at the motorhome, Max pulled you aside. His team was celebrating loudly in the background, but his focus was entirely on you. “Three-time world champion,” he said, smirking. “But being yours is still my favorite title.”

And now, here you are in Las Vegas. Max’s fourth championship.

The moment he crosses the line, you can barely hear the roar of the crowd over your own cheering. Your chest swells with pride as the fireworks explode over the track. It feels like a culmination of everything you’ve built together—his hard work, your unwavering support, and the love that’s only grown stronger with time.

Later that night, the team throws a party in one of the grand casinos. The celebration is lavish, the energy electric, but Max never lets go of your hand. Every so often, he leans down to kiss your temple or whispers something only for you to hear. He’s glowing, but there’s something else in his eyes—a secret, maybe, or anticipation.

Hours later, he whisks you away from the crowd, leading you to the rooftop of your hotel. The view is breathtaking—Las Vegas glittering like a sea of stars, a warm breeze wrapping around you both. You laugh, spinning to face him. “What are we doing up here?”

Max looks at you, his blue eyes soft and steady. He takes your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “I wanted to end this night with just us,” he says. “Like we always do.”

Your heart swells. “You’re getting sentimental, Verstappen.”

He chuckles but doesn’t look away. “I have a good reason.”

Before you can ask what he means, Max drops to one knee.

Time stops.

Your breath catches as he pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. “You’ve been with me through everything—every win, every loss, every moment in between. I can’t imagine doing this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.” He opens the box, revealing a stunning ring that glitters even brighter than the city lights. “Will you marry me?”

Tears blur your vision as you nod frantically, a smile breaking across your face. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Of course, yes.”

Max stands, slipping the ring onto your finger before pulling you into his arms. The kiss you share feels like every dream you’ve ever had coming true.

“You just made this the best championship celebration ever,” you say against his lips.

He grins, pressing his forehead to yours. “I think this one’s my favorite too.”

Under the Vegas sky, with the world at your feet, you know this moment is just the beginning of a lifetime of celebrations—together.

[starlightoru-gojo]

Glitch

Just silly thought about my man. I actually enjoyed writing this one, hope you will have fun reading too. Inspired by T. S song Glitch. Friends to idiots to lovers (because I'm a sucker for this trope huehue)

--

When you meet the wit's ends of your mind, everything just feels blank and numb. When the most gruelsome scene are presented infront of you, no matter how you tried to move how your mind shouts run! Run! Run! But your body stays... and stays no matter how your whole system stays watching like there's some glitch.

"Run, y/n!" You heard your mom shouted before you felt her blood splashed on you. You never saw what happened, you just felt it. A hand covering your eyes, like trying to protect you from from image on how your parents died.

--

"Hello. Y/n, right?" The woman and a man sat infront of you, smiling brightly as if nothing gruesome happened just minutes ago.

The dark seems peaceful, the moon made a vast illumination. This countryside was peaceful, just cicada noises can be heard during the summer and cool breeze in the fall but not tonight.

You nod at them, their smile is bright and warm and your confused for a five-years old to understand how can that smile show.

They look young and old at the same time, the man messed your hair and genuinely smiled this time.

"You can cry." That feels like a trigger for you, how everything flashed back, how your parents struggled to protect you but failed. You cry on them, trying to find shelter and they let you.

After calming you, they looked at you. You think they're trying to communicate.

"Do you want to go with us?"

--

That's how your sorcerer journey started, for a young little miss at five you couldn't quite understand what this all mean but as time goes by this world is far different from how you used to be.

They trained you, from a normal person to someone who can imbue curse energy. You live your life as if your part of them since the beginning like you were born for this world.

--

Sitting alone in the corner of your classroom near the window, just sightseeing, your actually waiting for everyone. First day of high school and your alone in this big room.

Not when the door fly open, you crunched your nose watching who it might be.

"What?! No teacher?!" Before he can enter the room he just shouted. You just watch him curiously, who is this boy?

Tall, white hair with glasses on? He entered the room alone now noticing you from the far end of the room, your face immediately heat up when he caught you watching him.

He looks like an angel. Minus the mouth.

He's alone. You're alone. You're both alone in this big room.

"Yo, whatcha doin'?" He occasionally asked you, sitting next to the chair beside you.

"Nothing, actually." You closed your notebook, it's just scribbles because you're bored.

You looked at him, he got blue eyes!! Pretty blue eyes!!!

"Guess they're not coming, huh?" Is he trying to have conversation? For a quiet and reserved person like you its hard to come up with a good conversation but you think not with him.

"I guess so. It's first day."

"Why did you go still?" His voice is teasing. "Are you grade conscious or somethin'?"

"No!" Yes. Yes, you are. He laugh at your defensive reaction, he knew better. He's laugh is beautiful you noticed.

"And why you're still here too?" You diverted the attention.

" 'm just bored." Okay. Fair. So, you just nod.

You two shared silence, awkward silence. He's watching you which makes this all awkward.

"I'm Satoru Gojou. The great one."

You laugh at what he said. How can someone introduce like that?

"Hi, Satoru Gojou the great one. I'm y/n. The nothing. "

You know Satoru Gojou, of course but this is the first time you've seen him, you've pictured him out someone like arrogant and not like this.

"You know me, right?" You crunched your forehead and nod.

"Heard your name before." That's true though, you are busy in far corner of Japan to know every person.

"Right, want to grab some food?"

--

Your thoughts were cut off when Shoko patted your head and head out together with Suguru. They have some important mission to do.

Was that for sympathy? Suguru just messed with your hair.

"He'll grow up and don't wait for him." You wanted to pout at what he said, you know what he meant.

"What? I don't like him." You said as you removed his hand on you. It's nit like you proclaim something for them to say that.

"Suguru never said a name." Shoko chimed in and they snicker at you. You shoo them away, these two is your death every time. They're like your ticking bomb whenever Satoru is there watching your every reaction.

It's your second year, everything is going smooth. But, not your heart it's been beating abnormally, arrythmia? Heart disease? But Shoko called Satoru-rythmia, because it only occurs when Satoru's around.

You watched him from a far talking with girls on the school grounds, you squint your eyes all giggling you throw a disgusting look at them.

You kicked his ankle when your at his back. And he immediately turned around to looked at who is this someone behind him.

"Our training." You just said and left him there.

"Sorry, Y/n time!!" You heard him and you can hear him run towards you.

He's been like that, you assumedly thought you're special at some point but you're just really deluded maybe because from watching too much dramas or reading books. He's just like that for everyone. Accomodating. Friendly. And warm.

He lunge at your back when your guard is down, you shriek when you felled on your shoes because he's heavy.

"Satoru!" You both fell on the grass ground, Satoru hugging you while laughing at your demise. You sit beside his waist and slap his arm but his just laughing.

You stared at him, he's laughing blissfully. Hair was away from his forehead, some were on the ground. Is his hair soft? It looked so soft specially when he messed it up when he thinks deeply. He looked like a real angel this close.

Oh, there it is again.

Satoru-rythmia.

--

Happy crush? This was supposed to be just a happy crush for you. Satoru's oh Satoru Gojou what are you doing with me?

Sitting alone on the stair in the field just thinking deeply, this summer afternoon is kinda dragging the school's been busy with the Kyoto's School visit and you don't want to deal with them. You train yourself, Satoru's been mostly your aid but he's not around and you don't try to contact him so you can sort your feelings out.

Happy crush. Yeah. That is all.

Satoru's not the boyfriend type but if he tries you think he will be a great one. Caring, thoughtful and super sweet yet you can picture him to be so clingy not that you mind- you covered your face with your palms.

"No, no, no!" He's your bestfriend, what's wrong with you?

You jump off your seat trying to make a defensive stance when a cold thing touch your head.

"Scaredy-Peanut!!" Satoru laugh at you and removed the bag full of...ice cream? on your head.

"What is your problem?!" You glared at his tall figure standing beside you.

"Hmm...I should ask you that." He said sitting beside you. "What is your problem, y/n?" Your eyes meet, oh those beautiful blue eyes, your the first one to look away.

"Nothing for you to be concerned of... can I have ice cream?" You unashamedly ask. You stares at you before lifting the bag away.

"No."

"You're greedy, you know that?"

"Yes." He chuckled.

You watched him, he looks happy right now like something happened without you even knowing. He's not wearing any glasses, which concerns you.

"Toru, your eyes." You immediately covered it with your hands. There are many people in the school right now because kyoto people are here and the summer sun is shinning brightly that might strain him.

He's so close and you felt your heart coming out its ribcage.

"Hey... it's okay, I can handle it better." The concerned look you gave him just made you worry more.  He hold your wrist to remove your hands on his eyes.

"You sure?" You looked at him genuinely and he nod. You sag your shoulders in relief. And he messed with you hair.

"Yes, maam." He said jokingly. You pushed his shoulder and make face.

"Don't barged in my room when your head's aching." You made a hmp reaction and tear your gaze away from him.

"Here's your ice cream because I made my fave person in the world worry." 

--

End of second year was when you go mission together without your teacher's supervision. There are just nights that are pure strolling and sightseeing.

Staring at the starry night of Kyoto, you and Satoru stand above the tallest building in the city, leaning on the railing you looked to watched the bustling city.

"This is beautiful, huh" you said while drinking you canned latte.

"Yeah, thank me y/n" you just shrug him off. Satoru's really the strongest and became more. You saw how he fought curses and it amazed you the first time. And his showing off everytime would boast about how great he is.

But, he's dreadfully quiet right now so you moved closer to touch his arm with you. Although your heart is not helping you but you think he had some problems.

"You okay?" You asked when the silence dragged between both of you. This is unusual, you're both loud when you're together and... chaotic that it sometimes pissed of Shoko and Suguru they don't know what possessed you to be influenced by Satoru.

You looked him watching the city before he looked at you.

"Have... you ever kissed someone?" You blink once. Twice. Thrice. Before you snapped in your periphery.

"No." Your face warmed, hearts beating loudly. You laughed it out, you want to curse how your heart just doubled its pace more the abnormal one. "Why would you ask that? That's rude."

"We're friends, you know? It's not that rude. Well, I got mine."

"What?" You crunched your forehead on what he said. What he got? Trying to look at him in puzzle.

Satoru looked at you. You heard it, you know you heard it but your brain can't process it quickly.

"Uh... kiss? You remembered that girl from Kyoto?" Well, I am from Kyoto too. But not the downtown though. You want to say it, but settled for crumpling your skirt and looking away. You bit your lower lip trying not to cry infront of him.

"Y-you have a girlfriend now?" That's childish of you. Focus on the city or the stars, you can't cry infront of him.

"Nah doubt it, I just want the fun."

You're quiet. Satoru tried looking into your eyes but you refused to looked at him.

So, this is how it felt to be heart broken is it? You thought it will be loud, but yours is silent. Maybe, silence hides the loudest scream.

"Right. I'll just pee. I'll be back." You walked out without waiting for his response. 

--

After that night, you tried hiding from him or whenever his around you go home you just tried everything to get away from him. It's a long 3 months for you and it's pointless because he is very persistent and annoying about it.

"Okay. Next mission, Gojou and y/n." You crossed your arm on your chest hearing what Yaga-sensei announced, you just looked infront not bothering to glance at your seatmate.

"Yes, Satoru?" Yaga-sensei said.

"Y/n don't want to be with me, sensei!" Satoru shouted and you heard Shoko and Suguru scoffed trying not to laugh. You glared at him and he just smiled widely at you with a raised hand.

"Is there a problem, y/n?" You closed your eyes and calmed your nerves.

"No."

"Did I do something wrong?" He's been following you like a dog all day and a broken record asking the same question. And he's been doing this in those months if his not away for a mission and it's so exhausting.

This is hard you think because he did not do something wrong, it's not his fault to not like you right? And as if you confessed? Not in a millionth time. It's not his responsibility to cradle your broken heart.

You're both walking in an empty path way in the school you're trying to get away from him again.

It's serene if Satoru's not loud. Autumn's coming, you walked on a blanket of falling leaves crisp and pretty.

Maybe, it's your fault for liking him in the first place and treating this way is just a evidence of how awful you are as a person and a friend.

You stop walking and face him. Satoru halted on your sudden pause. Just feet away. You want to memorize his face, his features, the way his hair sway when the wind gently blew it or how his smile can brighten up your any dull day. You want to memorize it all before you can make your resolve. You want to memorize everything that makes you feel this way towards him.

You close your eyes. And gently open it again and you met his beautiful ones.

"Satoru... Satoru Gojou, " you whispered like a prayer. He's name is divine on your lips. "I-I'll be back somehow just give me time, okay? And you did not do something wrong so don't worry." Your heart is aching, it's breaking you can feel it. You smiled at him and turned away as your tears fall as you walked away at him.

5 months after you finally convinced yourself that having feelings for Satoru is useless. And just be back to be his best friend. 

--

Final year of high school when he's suddenly calling you glitch. It confuses you at first but you let him be because that's how he usually is calling you with different names everyday but this time its just consistent. And its bothering you somehow.

"Why are you calling me glitch, toru?" You ask after munching a spoon of pudding, you're just chilling in your favourite pastry shop along the secluded street of Tokyo, it was an innocent question.

"Hmm?" You watched him changed from one dessert to another, definitely so busy. "Because you're my lil glitch." He said without watching you because again he is busy.

You just frowned at him but never bother to push the topic further.

You think you have been successful on your resolve so far half a year have passed. Almost graduating. Satoru's been the same annoying and all.

"Is that delicious?" He stop your train of thoughts md pointed at your pudding. You pulled the pudding closer to you and looked at him accusingly.

"Yes."

"Gimme a bite."

"No."

"Please, my glitch y/n." There he go again.

"I want that cookie too." You pointed at the red velvet cookie.

"Just a bite?" You nod and he nod. And you feed him and exhanged your food.

--

You frowned when you received an email saying that you were called by the higher ups. Your hands were cold, looking at those elders are scary. What more opening the door in the chambers.

You crunched your head after that meeting are they threatening you?

"You know we can just ditch you if we want, right? In the first place you did not belong in this world."

You're helping Satoru in his pursuit of change and that threaten the higher ups and now they're digging your past and using it against you.

"My glitch!" You just walk not bothering to looked at Satoru, just thinking deeply. 

You know what they mean, they can remove your privelege to be sorcerer but the fact that they said you did belong is quite a harsh comment.

Is that what a glitch mean?

You stop on your tracks and you faced Satoru. Who is smiling infront of you.

"Is that why you call me glitch?" You voice is accusatory which made Satoru's stance defensive. You scowled at him, unshed tears on your eyes.

You knew well he did not like you, but to make you feel unwanted is a different kind of hurt.

You held your feelings well enough, you hide it earnestly but being trashed out by someone you love is just piercing through your heart he can just say he don't want you, right?

"What? Hey, y/n..."

"Not now, Gojo. I'm tired." 

You don't have time for funny business any time you'll be trumped by the higher ups. It's been months since that incident happen and you're not talking to Satoru ever since. You've been both busy to mind anything, he will just looked at you pleadingly and you will looked away. This has been your routine after Satoru asked you what's wrong that day. It's tiring and it's hard watching Satoru's beautiful eyes lost it's glimmer.

Satoru gave you time. Spring came and graduation day is coming. Have he done anything to upset you? He's been bugging Suguru and Shoko but both don't know either.

You were talking to one of your colleague, the one who accompanied you in one of the mission in far away tokyo, he's here to pick up tools that they might need for mission in care of Yaga. Tomorrow's graduation so your both excited talking about it.

You're both walking on the cherry blossoms carpeted pathways of Jujutsu Tech. Everything is just painted with colors of cherry blossom. The cold breeze with some petals with it is just beautiful.

"Y/n!" 

You halted on your walk and looked at the man at your back. Your laugh stop and you scowled at him immediately. What now? 

"Hey, you can just y straight up walk there and that's Yaga-sensei's office." You waved goodbye at Kyohei. 

After Kyohei disappeared, you face Satoru once again with disinterest.

"What?" You asked when his nearing you.

"Who's that?" He asked seriously. You want to pinch his side when you noticed how his eyes is uncovered. 

"Yaga-sensei's guest." You said dismissively, he stared at you. His eyes are just so pretty. You crunched your forehead. You can't just let this happen again and again.

"You can't just walk with bare eyes." You said nonchalantly and walk out.  You crossed your hands on your chest walking back to your dorm room. And just hide for the rest of the day. 

"There's someone I need to put out my bandages on but been hiding from me." Satoru said now walking beside you. You stop and scowl at him and noticed his wearing his very dark shade right now. You just hmp! Him and walk again. 

"Maybe, she's angry again or something?" He just kept on rambling and you just make face everytime. You don't know but the walk way towards the dorms seems to stretch more. It feels so long and distant. The more you walk stepping the sakura petals makes your heart flutter more.

"I kind of missed her, by the way." You can feel the smile on his face. And your heart ache, it's like he meant it in a romantic way. But you know he just missed her bestfriend. 

"It's been months how can she endure not to talk to me for that long, huh? I can't even sleep properly when she's away fighting curses? Bet, she's happy being away from me." His monologue continue.

You stop your tracks, what does he meant by that? You've been miserable all of those times! And he stopped too. You side eyed him but shrugged him off.

"I don't even know what I did wrong, did I? And I might be out for a long time and still she's not talking. I might be gone tomorrow and-" 

You completely stop walking to face him. He is smiling, that annoying smile, that annoying eyes, that annoying face! You scowled at him.

"What did you say?" He raised a brow feeling triumphant that he finally got your attention.

"I might be away?"

"Yes. What was that?" You inquired curiously. You did not know that!

"Secret Mission." You just raised a brow at him. Okay. That's completely out of you. Sometimes, Satoru or most of the time Satoru is given highly confidential missions and you don't pry any further, that's just how he is.

"How long?"

"A month." You just nod and walk back. You heard Satoru sighed after a while.

"and you don't still talk to me? I don't want any more distance with us." He grabbed you by your hand. You just looked at him. "You can't be unfair to me, I don't even know what I did wrong or the last one. At least talk to me, I can't be on the shade forever." He said pleading.

"I'm a glitch. How can you be so invested with a glitch." You watch how his face contorts in confusion.

"What?" 

"Is that it Gojo? I am a glitch in this world, right?" He knew everything about your background how can he used it against you?

"What are you saying, y/n?"

"I'm a glitch in the system, right? I don't belong here, everyone think I don't belong here." Your angry tears are making you blur your vision. "You called me a glitch like that old man said in the meeting! You can just trash me out-"

But, Satoru laugh and you just cried more. What is his problem? Insulting you with his laugh.

He suddenly pulled you in a hug that stiffened you. You held you breath.

"You are so mean!" You slap his chest and cried more. 

" 'm sorry!" He encircled you with his arms for a hug.

Placing both hands on your shoulder when you calmed down. He watched you sniffing. And smiled fondly of you. Using his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

"Your smart brain is really playing with you. Don't you think?" You scowled with unshed tears.

"You know why you're my glitch?" You pouted what is this all about now?

"Gojou, I'm not fond of your funny business right now."

"Please, ask me!"

You sighed. Defeated. Tired.

"Why?"

"Because, you are a glitch in my system." You frowned. "It was supposed to be just a happy crush y/n, what are you doing to me?"

He whispered the last sentences that your heart beat rapidly. There is it again. Satoru-rythmia. It's back. Eyes wide looking at him. Realizing everything. 

He pulled you again for a hug. Soothing. Healing. He whispered softly. 

"Yes, that's what it mean, love. So, you're a glitch y/n. My glitch." 

[asirensrage]

Title: One More Step Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Explicit Pairing: Izana x Unnamed/Undescribed Female OC Word count: 2072 Warnings: Dark!fic. Violence. Abuse. Threats. Gaslighting. Suicide attempt. Suicidal thoughts. Mention of "being shared". Seriously gaslighting. Implied future infantilization. Not a happy ending. Unbeta’d. *warnings are not exhaustive* Summary: There is only so far that you can corner an animal before it lashes out. Including her. Prompt: "Even if you got rid of me, you'd miss me. Admit it, you'd miss me."

Notes: based off of the prompt found here by @seaside-writings. Takes place in the future where Izana is controlling Toman (with Manila!Mikey). This was a lot of fun to write and I've enjoyed the reactions I've gotten so far, which has mainly been shock and horror lol. I hope you enjoy it.

**HEED THE WARNINGS**

She’s straddling his chest, knife poised on the base of his throat as her knees keep his arms pinned. His wide violet eyes meet hers and what pisses her off the most is the complete lack of fear she sees in them. She feels like she’s been running a marathon, the end finally in reach if she can just take one more step. That’s all she needs. One more step. 

She doesn't know how it got to this point. 

She can look back, regret bringing a sharp clarity to actions that she was blinded to before it was too late. Before he held her by the throat, forced her to face everything that he was and that he offered and refused to let go. She had been bordered by his men, one way or another. Closed off from anything that could reach out to pull her back out of the open water where he lay waiting to devour. 

She can see every step that led her into his trap, even the ones that were taken in haste because she was forced from behind. The man under her held her softly, sweetly and kissed her deep enough that she could taste the blood on his tongue. Her revulsion made him laugh, made him all the more determined that she remain chained to his side. Every part of her was broken apart, piece after piece, and she has been trying to glue herself back into place. Back into the woman she was before she ever crossed paths with Izana. 

He stares at her patiently, not even trying to fight. As if he knows it’s inevitable. 

It is inevitable. 

There is only so far that you can corner an animal before it lashes out and women are the more deadly of the species. 

“I thought you were going to kill me,” he says lightly, eyes never leaving hers. His gaze strips her bare. It always has. He lured her with promises and idealizations of a home, with the threat of revenge against those who have wronged her. 

“I want to see the life leave your eyes myself,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper with her panting. 

“Even if you got rid of me, you’d miss me. Admit it. You’d miss me.” He stares as if waiting for the answer he knows she’ll give. Not anymore. She refuses. To admit to missing him means that she would miss the way he cradled her to him, the way he held her throat in his hand and threatened to kill her, to throw her to the wolves. To miss him would be to admit that she liked everything he had done for her, to her, and the way he’d allow select few access to her cunt while he fucked them. He was almost always the one fucking. Always the one in control. 

It would be admitting that the pieces she was putting herself back together with were in his image. Not hers. 

She presses the knife a little harder and he doesn’t even flinch. “Never.”

“Liar.” 

He moves. Her weight isn’t enough to stop him, despite her efforts. The knife goes flying as she’s forced onto her back, an inversion of seconds ago. Her feet kick out, arms scratching at his until he uses his hold against her neck to lift her head just enough to slam it back down onto the ground. It makes her dazed. Enough that she stops struggling for a moment as her senses realign. 

“Admit it.” He orders again. “Tell your king the truth.” 

“Not my ki–” her voice is cut off with the pressure of his hand tightening. His gaze hardens at the response. 

“Stop lying.” He slams her head down again, harder this time and her vision goes black for a second before the pain blossoms. It makes her stomach roll but if she throws up now, she’ll choke until he decides she deserves to breathe. If he decides. 

Tears build up in her eyes, a response to the pain. The pressure on her throat releases enough that she can gasp in the air she desperately needs. 

He strokes her cheek gently as she coughs, tears falling out of the corners of her eyes. “You make things so hard on yourself,” he says softly. As if he hadn’t just nearly killed her. He brushes hair out of her eyes. 

“Iz-Iza-” she coughs. His grip tightens again in warning. She closes her eyes, willing to face death for what she’s done. She should have been faster. Why did she hesitate? After everything he’s done, she would have been doing the world a favour. 

“Try again.”

“Si–” his grip tightens and she chokes for a second, coughing once she’s granted air again. “-y king,” she gasps more than says it. A feeble attempt to keep his violence at bay. She’s seen enough of it. Felt enough. 

His grip loosens, back to the softness he imitates. “How long must we play this game? How long until it finally sinks in that you and I are intertwined?” She knows what he’s not saying. She would never be separated from him. He had dug himself into her bones, leaving the remnants of the girl she was into the thing he’s formed. 

Until there’s nothing left, is what she wants to say but she can’t. The words lodge themselves in her throat. Tears slip down the sides of her face as she stares up at the man who calls himself a king. He’s beautiful, ethereal with the casual violence he carries. 

He stares at her a moment longer, the corner of his lips twitching before he nods, seemingly satisfied at her inability to argue. She wants to. She does. She just can’t seem to pull the words out of her chest, to breathe life into a promise that she’ll succeed next time. A promise she’s made repeatedly and never fulfilled. 

She feels…tired. Emotionally wrought and wrung out. There’s a slight ringing in her ears that she can almost ignore. Her gaze slips from his face, staring at the art piece on the wall that he bought her after catching her staring at it too long. He hung it in a place of honour, front and centre as if to remind her that no matter what they’ve done, what he’s done, he’s taken care of her. Isn’t that what’s important? 

His fingers tighten on her chin before he turns her so that her eyes meet his again. He kisses his teeth lightly, another admonishment at her choices. She watches his gaze drift over her face. “You need to stop hurting yourself,” he says almost gently. It sounds like he actually cares, as if she’s only fallen and he hasn’t tried her kill her. Quid pro quo.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” he says in the same tone. “That you never learn, do you? No matter how many lessons I teach, you stay as stubborn as a child.” He leans back slightly, hips pressing closer against hers as he pulls her slightly closer so they remain connected. “Is that what you are? A child?” He stares as if waiting for a response she can barely think of giving. She tries to shake her head but the motion makes her stomach roll and it feels as if he’s finally knocked something loose in it. She probably needs a hospital. 

“Is that how I need to treat you?” 

“N-no,” she croaks out. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she forces out. She has to apologize. There’s no choice. If she doesn’t, he won’t kill her, but he’ll force her into another role that she knows will be worse than being a woman at his side. She can only imagine the way his men's faces will light up in amusement if he tells them to treat her as a child. They like humiliation too much when it’s not theirs. 

“Your words are worthless to me,” he tells me. “But I can be merciful. As long as you held the knife at my throat, you could never take that final step, could you?” 

She swallows the lump growing in her throat. No. Something held her back and she hates every part of herself for it. 

“No,” he answers for her. “Like I said, you’d miss me. Miss this.” He yanks her closer, moving her ass to rest on his knees, to keep her hips pressed against his. A parody of a mating press. One she’s been forced into before even if it never took. They’re consistent, at least, in ensuring she’s protected from that. 

Her gaze drifts again. She doesn't mean it but she can’t stay focused. Her head hurts and her throat feels scrubbed raw from his hold. She blinks and it feels like it takes longer than ever before she’s forced back to look at Izana. Will he mourn her if she dies here? Will he regret everything he’s done to her or will he only regret that it wasn’t on his terms? That’s how she should go. While she still has the ability to. She should wait until she’s left alone again and throw herself away, a final act of defiance in refusal to give him the satisfaction of choosing her death. It should be a choice she gets to make. Unless she hesitates like she did with a knife at his throat. Always unable to make that last move. 

He bends forward to brush his lips against hers. It’s soft, nearly tender and a complete contrast to his behaviour. She could lose herself in it, in the illusion he offers every time. It’s always so tempting to. It somehow feels so much more poignant after the things he does. She wants to soothe him, to make him offer this softness more and more until she’s drowning in it. Even if he’s the one pulling her under. 

“Izana,” she breathes into his mouth. 

He hums, smiling slightly at the submission. “Such a pretty thing like this, aren’t you?” He brushes her hair back. “You always are.” 

“My...my head hurts,” she whimpers. 

“You need to be more careful,” he says. “Such a clumsy thing, aren’t you?” He sighs before getting up, rocking back on his heels and standing. “You need me, even if you’re not willing to say it aloud. We both know it.” He offers his hand to her. 

She stares at it for a long moment, trying to will her body to work the way it’s supposed to, the way he expects it to. She’s been buried in his expectations, slowly suffocating under their weight. Can you be buried and broken apart? She thinks so. She feels like she is. The thing that emerges from the rubble is nothing she recognizes but he looks at her in satisfaction that makes part of her preen. It makes her sick.

She doesn’t know where she gets the strength, the courage, to shove her foot into his knee instead of taking his hand. He’s broken her into pieces, reforming her into what he wants, but the core of it is still her. She is still the woman she once was, even if she’s not the same. 

He swears at her, a hiss filled with warning and anger. She scrambles to stand but the concussion he’s left on her makes it difficult. She’s moving too quickly. Her stomach rolls and she crashes into the couch before she catches herself. The balcony lies before her. A beacon of release. A choice she can make. 

She runs.

Her fingers brush the cool glass before an arm reaches around her shoulder. A hand grabs her throat, circling it with an ease of familiarity before she’s sent flying back. Away from the balcony. Away from her chance. Still too slow, even if she didn’t hesitate. 

She slides across the floor, crashing into the wall across from it. The impact is jarring, sight going blank as her head rings until she’s folding over to throw up on the hard floor. Something’s broken. She can feel it in her arm, but she can’t focus. Can’t breathe through the nausea and taste of bile.

Izana walks towards her. She doesn’t have to look to know he’s disappointed. She can feel his anger even if he doesn’t show it. Instead, she hears him sigh. She curls up tighter, apologies worthless even if she tried. 

“A child it is then.” 

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

also: @scythegal and @m-ilkiee Network: @pixelcafe-network

I’m not tagging anyone else lol

[scudismystud]

You’re on the right track but I think there’s more to it than that though. Spoilers under the cut.

Gale was told from a very young age that he would be a great wizard so he has to shoulder the expectation that he has to become one again after his falling out with Mystra (which I am of the opinion they were both wrong it wasn’t him just messing up with her- she was also using him but that’s a whole other conversation). Gale believes his only worth is if he is a great wizard and that is so heartbreaking. This is why he is so willing to sacrifice himself at the drop of a hat. He believes that if he can’t be as powerful as he was with Mystra and heralded as a great wizard instead of a great disappointment that he might as well give his life in a heroic way. He desperately wants to be great - like he views Mystra to be.

The reason he talks about her so often is because he wants to be her. This is clear when you reach Act 3 and he starts talking about the idea of becoming a god himself. Gale has megalomaniacal tendencies and will either pursue them if left to his own devices by the player because he just wants to be great. It isn’t until the player chooses options to tell him that he isn’t defined by his magic or grand power that Gale starts to realize he has worth just being himself outside of magic and Mystra. Yes he will always love magic but he becomes aware that it’s something he can enjoy without having to idolize Mystra in the unhealthy way he does through the first act of the game.

Relating back to your analogy, I think this is more of a case where Disney had all of the legal software to draw and you show talent from a very young age and everyone says you’re going to be the next great artist so Disney CEO hires and then starts sleeping with you when you’re of age. As you get older and your relationship is getting closer (at least on your end you believe the relationship is equal) you start asking for better software you know the ceo is using but they keep telling you that you aren’t good enough.

You then find out there’s a hidden software online that you’ve been told is an altered version of Disney software. You download it in the hopes of bringing it to Disney ceo thinking they’d be happy you found upgraded software for them but then they’re mad at you. They cast you out of their circle.

You then get a virus from that program that is going to slowly kill your computer if you don’t keep letting it eat your files and even though you can still use your other programs from Disney they don’t work like they used to so you can’t make art as great as you once did. You then are told by that ceo that they can stabilize the computer temporarily but you should get rid of your computer which would also kill you in the process.

On top of that you also find out the software you had downloaded never belonged to Disney to begin with. You find out other software has always existed but the public cannot be trusted with it according to Disney CEO. You find out you’ve been misled by the CEO for years and there’s so much more out there you could sharing with the world. You then start to pursue making yourself a CEO convincing yourself you’ll be different than Disney CEO.

I do think comparing Mystra to a CEO is very fitting because she does have a horrible power imbalance to the relationship she has with Gale so he sees her in a good light despite all the things she does wrong for way too long. I don’t think Mystra is evil but I do think that what she did to Gale was wrong and warped him into the man who thinks he needs to be a god to be worthy of being alive. To reiterate again this is why he is constantly talking about her. He wants to be her. He wants infinite knowledge and magic.

At least that’s what he wants if left to his own pursuits. If you romance him, he then starts to think of a future with you. He still talks about Mystra but it isn’t in the idolizing way it was before (“you make me forget my goddess” line my beloved). He comes into his own as a character who could see himself being happy as Gale Dekarios the man instead of Gale of Waterdeep the great wizard.

I feel like people don't grasp that Gale keeps talking about Mystra because (among other things) he's obssessed with magic.

I think it's hard to understand because in our world, any skill is an existence in and of itself but for a rough example,

Imagine if Disney had a monopoly on drawing. They were in charge of all of the drawing softwares, they own all of the art supply companies and hell, maybe they even own paper.

Now imagine you royally mess it up with the CEO of Disney. You love to draw but anytime you draw, it's ultimately seen or controlled by Disney. It must be rough. I feel for him, I really do.

Mystra isn't just some goddess connected to magic. Since most people can only safely access through the weave and Mystra manages the weave, as far as Gale is concerned, Mystra IS magic.

[skellymom]

"AMBER EYES" CHAPTER 2

Bad Batch TECH Fan Ficlet x NON-GENDERED READER

A story of HOPE for Tech Fan's: Resident of Pabu unlocks a secret even THEY weren't aware they had access to!

Word Count: 800

Rated: SAFE for EVERYONE! ENJOY!!!

The stars whiz by the windscreen as I lay on the bunk in the dimly lit ship.  Echo is at the helm.  He brought transport since the Marauder was destroyed. 

I’m exhausted. 

It’s been months since my FIRST contact with Tech.  Since then, I’ve only gotten snippets of sensory information: by sight, sound, feel.  I can still feel him breathing...it’s been the only constant since that day on Pabu.  Like we’re sharing the same breath.  

The goggles are no longer needed for me to reach out to Tech.  Omega still brought them along “just in case”.  There are times I can concentrate while awake to experience what he is experiencing.  But most times it happens during the night, when sleep pulls my guard down. 

And, because of that I don’t sleep for very long. 

Crosshair says I talk in my sleep...and it sounds JUST LIKE his brother.  He’s tried to elicit a conversation, but without me being conscious it goes nowhere. 

“Found some muscle relaxers.  That should help you sleep.”  Hunter kneels with a canteen, dropping two tablets into my hand. 

“Thanks” Swallowing the meds. 

“Here” He also hands me a ration bar “They’ll tear up your stomach if you don’t eat.” 

“You’re such a DAD” I kid. 

“You’re a part of this family, too” Hunter smiles and it reaches his eyes.  I can also see a bit of concern in them.  “Of course we’ll take care of you.” 

He pats my shoulder, stepping away as Wrecker approaches. 

“Ya ready?” Cracks the knuckles of his large hands. 

I nod as he sits behind me on the bunk and CAREFULLY massages my head, temple, ears.  The man has hands that could EASILY crush my skull... 

...but his fingers are so gentle.  He eases away the tension as I chew on the ration bar. 

Soon the meds, food, and Wrecker’s massage take effect.  I’m feeling extremely comfortable.  There’s a conversation going on between Hunter, Echo, and Crosshair...I’m catching small snippets... 

“Concerned about ______.  Too much for one person to bear.”  Hunter empathizes with my plight.  He UNDERSTANDS all too well. 

Echo’s voice chimes in “Yeah, all the leads just wind up being dead ends.  Not sure how much longer we...THEY can keep going...” 

Crosshair grits his teeth and worriedly runs his hand over his stubbly head.  His silver hair growing back.  He feels IMMENSE guilt.  Both he and Wrecker have already openly argued about the mission that took Tech’s life... 

They almost came to blows.  It made Omega cry. 

Hunter and Echo broke it up, putting them both in temporary “Time Out.” 

They eventually made up...well Wrecker did.  Crosshair just stared at the floor like a whipped dog. 

Crosshair says something...but it’s lost as I fall asleep with Wrecker’s hands in my hair... 

The warmth and comfort immediately torn away from me... 

I...WE are laying in the cold wet mud...of SOME world...rain coming down in sheets. 

There’s a body next to...us... 

A dead rebel soldier.  His eyes are wide open, glazed over...mud and rain splattered upon his body where he fell... 

We...Tech...is CRAWLING through the mud.  Attempting to escape?  I can FEEL his respiratory effort as he DRAGS himself through the wet mess.  He manages to pull himself with his arms several feet before falling back into the mud...utterly exhausted... 

The hard patter of rain upon his body.  He’s shivering.  His body temperature is dropping...he’s becoming TIRED, struggling to keep both eyes open...only a matter of time before hypothermia sets in... 

Please...don’t LEAVE me... 

He’s addressing...ME!  I can FEEL it!!! 

I’m SHOCKED.  This is the FIRST time he’s spoken to me... 

Yes...I KNOW you’re there.  He answers breathlessly.  Took me some time to ascertain...you are using Remote Viewing... 

I push to find my voice... 

WE ARE COMING FOR YOU!  I blurt out Hunter, Crosshair, Echo, Wrecker, and Omega are with me!  We... 

Tell them to abort their mission! Tech cuts me off. 

NO!  Where ARE YOU??? 

The Empire WILL find you all.  It is NOT safe...  He sighs HEAVILY I wish to see them all again...but NOW is not the time... 

...and...I...am not the man I once was... 

A ship lands several meters away.  Its crew jumps down into the mire, slogging towards...Tech...US.  He is grabbed up by several hands and hauled to the ship...into it...the crew starts basic first aid... 

Thank you for keeping me awake...and ALIVE...if not for YOU, I would have expired.  PLEASE, keep my brothers and sister safe... 

And with that, Tech CUTS contact with me... 

...I SLINGSHOT VIOLENTLY back to Echo’s ship! 

I BOLT upright in the bunk.  Wrecker has a mild heart attack with the suddenness of my action. 

I’m SCREAMING something over and over... 

Tech thought he could prevent me from finding him... 

But I managed to catch a glimpse with HIS OWN EYES...the ship’s hull... 

“DELIVERANCE!  TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!” 

EVERYONE is running towards me... 

“DELIVERANCE!  TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!” 

I can only stare DIRECTLY into Echo’s eyes... 

“DELIVERANCE!  TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!” 

They widen.  He SMILES.  Immediately Echo sets to work with his ship’s computer... 

CHAPTER 3 TO BE POSTED SHORTLY!

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