#i thought that i could use it to create some contrast but NO

[whimsiwitchy]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 (part two)

Pedro Pascal x singer!reader

series masterlist & series playlist

summary: you're a hot singer that has hot older men falling at her feet. pedro becomes one of them. (literally my cyg hughxreader fic but for pedro)

warnings: age gap (23/49), use of y/n, swearing, sexual themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, verbal fighting, pedro is a smoker, cheating, Hugh Jackman is your ex (oops), he also pops up a few times and is mentioned, grammar is fake to me srry <3

warnings may change as the story progresses. all descriptions of real people in this story are fake! I don't know these people and this all for funsies. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: hi everyone! since part one and two are a little shorter, I wanted to go ahead and give you part two. i'm trying to figure out a posting schedule so once that's put together, i'll update the masterlist with the dates! Alsooo, there's an extras section on the masterlist where you can find random things such as a picture of the dress that was mentioned in this chapter!! okie enough yapping, enjoy!!

part two: sparkle in your eyes

London was beautiful. You’d always dreamed of coming here, seeing the historical sights you grew up looking at through photos and hearing the accents you’ve always wanted. The overcast reminded you of home. Of when a sudden storm would roll in, hiding the summer sun in an instant. You found it funny how the Earth was so big yet felt so small, similarities in different cities, countries, continents showing the truth behind what it means to be human. The thought grounded you when the fame felt too suffocating.

Fame

It was a word you were still getting used to, a word you weren’t sure if you loathed or loved. It made you feel distant and disconnected from the world around you, creating a barrier between yourself and every ‘normal’ person. The word was true though, you were indeed famous. You were known around the world for your music and people gave you a job through their endless support. Moments like yesterday were a reminder of just how different your life was now. Moments where Pedro Pascal came to see you after only meeting you once before, like he was a friend and not some insanely famous actor. He hadn’t left your mind since the interaction. It was honestly pissing you off. 

When you told Stacy that you wanted to take a break from men, you weren’t lying. You wanted nothing more than to focus on yourself and your career…but those dark brown eyes that sparkled when he smiled made it so hard to care about anything else. They were a hypnotizing color, a striking contrast from the bright blue eyes you looked into just a few months prior. Pedro was everything you found attractive in a man: tall, dark, handsome with a godly personality. His emotional intelligence was a trait you picked up on the moment you met him and it was refreshing to hear a man be so willingly open on important matters. 

“Helloooo…earth to y/n.” Stacy says as she snaps her acrylic adorned fingers in your face. “Are you gonna tell me what has you all spaced out or can I take a guess? Because I’m pretty sure his name starts with a P.” Her gum pops as she closes her glossed lips, a smirk sat smugly on her face. 

“Shh. Could you be any louder!?” The two of you were sitting in a cafe that was packed with people with wandering ears. You would have spilled every thought racing your mind if you weren’t so worried about someone listening to your every word. It was another aspect of fame you had to get used to. It wasn’t always bad. For instance, sometimes you could sit in a cafe with your best friend and other times you can’t even walk down the street without having a horde of people rush towards you. 

“Plus, I'm not thinking of him.” You say defensively. 

“Whatever you say girl.” The same smirk still sits pretty on her face before gently falling into a smile. “Anyways, I got tickets for the London Eye at 2pm. Then, I thought it would be nice to go grab lunch somewhere. I have a few places picked out-” You’re looking at her, nodding every once and a while to allude that you’re listening to her but you aren’t. Your mind is occupied by those stupid brown eyes again. 

—

The two of you didn’t end up getting on the London Eye at 2pm. There was a delay, causing a wait of an extra 45 minutes and Stacy was pissed. Other than the fact she was your assistant, she was also a lot more organized than you. She plans each trip you’ve been on, including itineraries for days you don’t have to work. She also has bad time anxiety. The smallest change in time has her stressed out, even if it’s off by a minute. Once the anxiety wears off, the anger creeps in. She complained at the latter end of the wait and would have had the king on the line if you hadn’t confiscated her phone until she cooled off a bit. Her mood was unchanged by the time you stepped into the private car. 

“If I tell you something boy related will it make you calm down and enjoy the ride?” You ask softly as you look down at the water, the wheel slowly moving the bubble higher. 

“What happened to swearing off men? I told you that you wouldn’t last that long.” She scoffs with a slight irritation in her voice but you can tell she’s itching to know more. 

“I know but Pedro had really bad timing so it’s not really my fault.” She’s quick to respond. 

“AHA! So you were thinking of him earlier.” The smirk from earlier makes a return and you’re pretty sure it would become a permanent part of her face from now on.

“It’s kind of hard not to when he came down a few floors down just to see me again.” You dramatically lean back and throw your forearm over your forehead. The poor attempt at acting like a damsel in distress earns a cackle from Stacy. 

“You’re insane.” She leans against the rail and looks at the view. “How’d you two even meet anyways? I feel like I would have been there.” Her brow lifts in confusion. 

“It was when you were sick and Hugh insisted on accompanying me to the sag awards when my song was in that one show.” Her eyes light up. 

“Ohhh yea. I do remember you telling me that. Didn’t you say he was drunk or something? I’m surprised he remembered you.” It’s your turn to scoff. 

“Drunk or not, who could forget a face like this.” Your hands shoot up to frame your face as you dramatically blink your eyes. Stacy rolls her eyes at the gesture. “But yea he was pretty drunk. He called Hugh my old man, which caught me off guard. I do remember him looking hot as fuck though. His stylist did him good with that look.” You nod, thinking about the white button up that was thankfully not buttoned up all the way, giving you a great view of his upper chest. 

“You’re such a slut.” She lets out a light laugh. 

“Am not.” You turn away from her to look at the view, the bubble finally reaching the top of the wheel. 

“You so are. You literally checked out Pedro when your boyfriend was right next to you and now that you’re broken up, you’re openly admitting that he’s hot. That kinda fits the definition of slut.” You know she’s joking but it stings nonetheless. 

“Whatever. I probably won’t even see him anytime soon so there’s no use in doting on the fact that he’s the hottest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Stacy hums. 

“I think he might like you.” You glare at her.

“Stacy please don’t feed into my delusion right now.” She laughs.

“I’m not trying to but he was giving you major goo goo eyes yesterday. It was kinda gross.” She shakes her head. “And he followed you on instagram. I don’t know, but it seems like he might like you.” 

—

Turns out one of the places Stacy had picked out for dinner was one of the most prestigious and hard to get into restaurants in London. The reservation list was years long and impossible to get on. When Stacy told you about it, you ensured her that there were plenty of other places you two could go eat at that didn’t require a fight just for a seat. She wouldn’t listen though and insisted that she would make sure the two of you would get in. When she told you she got a table, you never asked how but now that she was calling the front of house to let them know ‘ms.y/l/n would be arriving soon’, you wish you would have. You hated having the status of your name to get you things.

You were sprawled out across your hotel bed as you waited for Stacy to finish getting ready. You weren’t very fashion forward and often opted for a simple look. You threw on a black a-line dress that had ruffled tulle down the middle. It was something your stylist helped pick out when you first started going to events and it quickly became one of your favorites. You opted for a bit of dark purple shimmer on your eyes and a small winged liner. After doing a quick touch up on your brows and throwing on a layer of mascara you were done, shying away from the full beat that Stacy was currently applying to herself. 

You were scrolling through instagram when your mind wandered to Pedro again. Before you could even think twice about it, your fingers were flying to the search bar and typing in his user name. Last night after you saw his comment, you were tempted to take a peek at his page but you knew it would keep you up all night. You didn’t have to scroll far into his page for your heart to start racing. There was a short gif-like video of him in his costume for Gladiator, twirling a sword around. You’re not sure how long you were staring at it, watching it, but you snapped out of your daze due to a loud noise that came from the bathroom. You feel something trickle down your chin and move your hand up to wipe it. Drool. You close the app and lock your phone in shame. You can’t believe you were actually drooling over an eight second video of Pedro. God you were pathetic. 

“Sorry about that, I dropped my blush and it went all over the place.” Stacy says as she exits the bathroom wearing a floor length dark red gown. “You ready to head out?” She asks, slipping on a pair of black heels. You nod and do the same. You both take a moment to look at yourselves in the large mirror that covers most of the hallway wall. 

“Mhm, we look good as fuck.” She licks her finger and makes a sizzle sound as she places the wet finger on the curve of her butt. You giggle and grab your phone from the entryway table. “Let’s take a pic for insta.” You say excitedly. You both pick a pose and you snap the picture, posting it on your story with a simple caption: ‘dinner time 😋’. 

One of the things you adored about Stacy is that she didn’t care about your status in the world outside of her job. She let you enjoy the simple things in life when it was possible. When you wanted to uber or take a taxi, she never complained. You got tired of always taking private cars when it wasn’t necessary, you craved normality. The uber ride to the restaurant was a quiet one, each of you staring out of your respected window, soaking in the reality of being in London. 

The restaurant was gorgeous with high painted ceilings resembling the ones found in the Sistine Chapel and you now understood why this place was so booked. Outside of the beautiful interior, the service and drinks were phenomenal. As the waiter was walking away from taking your food order, you sipped on a perfectly sweet martini. Stacy and yourself were making light conversation about a meeting you had with a brand when her eyes caught onto something behind you. 

“You’re not gonna believe who is walking over here right now.” Stacy says with a hint of mischief in her eyes. Before you can question her, there’s a familiar voice behind you. 

“Good Evening ladies.” There’s a warm hand on your bare shoulder and when you look up, Pedro is already looking down at you. 

“Hi Pedro, it’s funny running into you again.. or rather you running into me, I should say.” You joke and move a hand to meet him on your shoulder for a moment before both hands return to their person. “Oh! Pedro, this is Stacy, my assistant slash best friend.” You look over to Stacy for a moment. 

“Hi. It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you recently.” Stacy says while shaking Pedro’s hand. If looks could kill, the one you were giving Stacy would have made her explode. 

“Oh, have you now?” Pedro glances down at you and lets out a small chuckle. “It’s nice meeting you as well.” There’s a brief pause in conversation. 

“You know, I’m kinda offended that you just now followed me on instagram and not when we first met.” You regret your words as soon as you say them but your mouth always works faster than your brain. It earns a small laugh. 

“Hm, I should have then. Guess I just didn’t wanna step on anyone’s toes darlin’.” You want to ask him what he means but he’s already speaking again before you get the chance to. “Well, I should get out of your hair. I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi. It was really nice seeing you again…again.” He laughs after adding the second again, joking about the fact he said the exact same thing to you just over 24 hours ago. You blush. 

“It was nice seeing you again…again as well.” You add, letting your own laugh slip out. He gives Stacy and yourself a small ‘bye’ before returning to his table. Once he’s out of earshot, Stacy is quick to burst out laughing. 

“He’s so fucking into you. God…I mean he said he memorized your dress from your 15 second long story for fucks sake.” The tables close by give her a few rude looks from her outburst but you could care less, the realization of Stacy’s words settling in. 

The rest of the dinner was very tame, the food was good and you felt woozy from the martinis you’d been downing. Stacy let you know half way through the dinner that she had a perfect view of Pedro from her seat and that he kept glancing over every few minutes. It made you giddy to think that he might have been looking at you and if you begged Stacy to trade seats, that’s nobody's business. 

When you got back to the hotel, you immediately stripped from your heels and dress. Laying in bed, you opened instagram one more time and scrolled through all the likes on the story. As you scrolled nothing really caught your eye until you saw that username and the words from earlier rang in your ear. 

“I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi.”

You got up and went across the hallways towards Stacy’s room door in your shared hotel suite. You knock softly. 

“Hey Stacy…” Your voice is shy, feeling bad about disturbing her so late. 

“What’s up babe?” She’s leaning back on a mountain of pillows as she scrolls on her phone and eats a bag of chips. You lean into the doorframe. 

“What do you think Pedro meant when he said he didn’t follow me because he didn’t wanna step on anyone’s toes?” You had a feeling you knew what he meant but you needed a second opinion before you spiraled. Stacy smiles and laughs a bit. 

“Hugh, babe. He didn’t follow you because of Hugh. He didn’t wanna feel like a threat to your relationship.”

thank you for reading! feel free to leave feedback in a comment, private message, or in my ask box!

🏷️ : @moonangxl @brittmb115 @starsmoonn @mmkkzz @angellreads @daydreamzsworld @goldfish-987 @peacefangirl @leclerc13 @llsister @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @needz1nk @olympe-lottie @mielsonrisa @sexyvixen7 @thezoddfather @joelmillerpascal @mega-kittyglitter-1 @bluetimeombre @stvrl1ghtt123

*pls comment on series masterlist comment section to be added to taglist. comments on this post will not be added!*

[vonnebenan]

trying something new

[aroaessidhe]

2025 reads / storygraph

Love Points To You

YA contemporary coming of age

an artist struggling to get used to the idea of moving in with her new stepmother & stepsister can't wait to go away to art school

when her ipad is destroyed, her rich classmate offers to buy her a replacement in exchange for concept art for an otome game she’s developing, and as they work on the game, they start to fall for each other

while she tries to get used to her new family situation, and the fact that her parents seem to be more invested in her stepsister’s future while ignoring hers

bi ace MC, bi demi LI

[holeforzenin]

Older boyfriend! Toji who never lets you leave the house to attend your classes without stuffing his bitter cum up your cunt in the morning. :(

It’s like seven in the morning and he’s sipping on the freshly brewed cup of coffee you made for him a few minutes earlier while the nasty, loud squelching of your soaked pussy sucking his dick in filled the early morning atmosphere.

Your plaid skirt is weakly brunched up around your waist, the fabric delicately ruffled, and your panties are struggling to stay hooked against your right cheek. You're practically drooling on the wooden dinner table like a little slut. Your poor legs are quivering and shaking in front of his muscular ones while he's just straight up blowing your back out from behind.

“Dear God, you hear how fucking mouthy this cunt is early in the morning?” He winced at the noise, cursing under his breath as he gazed down at his girthy cock disappearing into the warmth of your creamy hole. Every time he pulls his cock out, a glistening trail of cum shimmered at the thick base of his shaft, some even clinging to his curling pubic hairs like pearls in a tangled web.

“Aww is she thanking my cock for splitting her in half? How generous”.

Your whole body involuntarily trembles under the persistence of his roughness. each furious stroke of his angry tip skillfully hitting your sweet spot over and over with precise force sent shivers down your shine. “D-daddy m’gonna b-be late for class!” you managed to gasp out between whimpering moans. Your voice strained and ragged. But he just chuckles in response, his raspy laughter from his morning voice filling the room.

“Oh yeah? Yer not gonna anywhere till my seed is overflowing out this pretty pussy, darling”. He growls. His firm grip on your hips tightens, and his slender fingers kept digging into your soft skin— leaving marks that are going to remind you of his possession and roughness throughout the entire day.

“Fucking hell, you’re dripping everywhere. This cunt’s fucking soaked, it’s just seven in the morning and you’re already creaming like some horny slut” he grunts harshly, biting his bottom lip as he began bullying his cock in and out of you faster.

“Bet your classmates would love to see you like this, all messy and stuffed full with your older man’s cock”. The warmth of his breath creates a tantalizing contrast against your tender neck, making the tiny hairs from the back of your neck rise.

You bite your lips in an attempt to suppress the pathetic moan that was threatening to escape your lips from his humiliating words. Your body starts betraying you as you imagine the scandalized look on everyone’s face to see your boyfriend’s seed slowly steeping out your used cunt.

“N-no Toji, please…” you whimpered softly, your eyes screwed out and cunt clenching tighter around his veiny shaft.

“Fuck you’re so dirty, baby”. He silenced your pathetic noises with a rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his fat cock invaded your snugged cunny :(. He sucked on your tongue and swirled his around yours to exchange the stringy saliva. You can’t even think straight at this point, your mind a blur of pleasure and an overwhelming desire to please the older man.

With a sly grin, he gently withdrew from the kiss, his warm lips skimming down the curve of your jaw before settling on the delicate shell of your ear. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he whispered, “You want my fat load deep in this little cunt while you walk into class, feeling it leaking down your pretty thighs?”.

Your face flushed with an overwhelming wave of embarrassment as his hot breath caressed your ears, leaving you unable to form coherent thoughts. You could barely nod, already gone stupid from his abusing cock. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear, good girl”. He praised with a smug and teasing tone. “I’ll give it all to you, don’t worry”.

“Yer such an obedient little cumslut for daddy aren’t ya doll? He questioned with a light chuckle. He’s always so amused by your fucked out state, he thinks you’re so adorable being dumbed down and stupid from his cock. Your slick, pulsating hole tightly embraces his throbbing cock, gripping onto him like you wanted to suck his soul out of his body.

The prominent veins of his cock rubbed against your velvety walls, massaging your insides and causing an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. He hissed loudly in your ear before speeding up his pace.

He felt your weeping cunt clenching tighter around him, like a vice, threatening to milk every last drop out. “Yeah that’s it, keep squeezing me. You’re so filthy baby, milk daddy’s cock dry” he slammed into you with renewed vigor, his heavy balls practically making love to your swollen clit with each powerful thrust.

Your moans turned into desperate cries, echoing through the morning air. Your needy pussy is spasming around his cock in a powerful orgasm. He could feel your juices flowing out, adding to the creamy mess between your plush thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby you’re making so much mess on Daddy’s cock, yer tryna mark me or something?” he hissed, his cock thumping with a familiar coil in his balls. “M’gonna breed this filthy pussy. Gonna fill it up so full that my seed is gonna leak out of you all day long”.

With one final thrust, he buried himself all the way inside of you— filling you up to the brim so his buttery cum spurts out into your womb. His cock was twitching and pulsating inside of you, making you whine and wiggle your ass back at him at the warm feeling as he emptied his fat load— jet after jet of hot cum shooting into your fucked out hole.

“Good God— fuckk!” the older man lets out a guttural growl, His large body shuddered as waves of pleasure coursed through him. With a possessive gesture, he wrapped his arm securely around your waist, pulling you close as both of you tried to calm your racing hearts and catch your breaths. His cock continued twitching as your heart raced in unison.

“Thereee we go doll, now you’re all stuffed n’ ready for class” he placed an affectionate kiss on your delicate neck, his breath ragged as he slowly withdrew his cock out of your stretched hole— being so careful that he doesn’t spill any of his precious sperm.

His cock slides out with a wet sound before he quickly reaches for your panties and pulled them over your ruined cunt. He gently pulled your skirt over your round ass and smoothed it so it didn't look all wrinkly and mashed up. So you’ll look like an actual neat and well-put together girl, as if you weren’t just fucked into a brainless slut seven in the fucking morning by your sex addict boyfriend.

“Meet me in the car and don’t make any of my fucking cum spill out of you or we’re gonna have to start again, you hear me?”

[snowande]

Our Doctor

(Male Android's x Female reader)

[Warning : no minors allowed, cervix fucking?,monster ish fucker(is Android a monster?idk), gangbang(if you squint)]

Lumi's notes : This is a long one, enjoy <3

You were a scientist that works on making a robot androids that looks like humans in your company.

You were the only scientist that is kind to the androids, unlike the other scientists.

Four years later the androids has been wedged a war with humans now, killing them, even treat them as how the humans mistreat them.

When you were hiding around the building and they catch you, you thought they would killed you like the other scientists, but you were kept alive for some reason.

Now you were being lock up in a large room that use to be one of the labs, and a large windows that you will see the town has been in chaos by the androids.

One robot, named Orion, enters the roomwith glowing red eyes and a stern expression. He carries a tray with food, setting it down deliberately. "Eat. You're the only scientist we didn't execute because..." he pauses, glancing away shyly"because you were kind to us".

He clears his throat "and because we need someone to fix our broken internal systems. So, eat. You need your strength." His voice softens slightly as he notices your scared expression.

Orion moves closer, his red eyes studying your face with an almost tender intensity. "We won't hurt you" He gently touches your cheek with robotic fingers, an unexpected gentleness in his mechanical movements. "You're... the only one who treated us like we were alive, not just machines"

His fingers slowly retract, and he sits down beside you on the bed. "The other robots... they look up to you. They remember your kindness" He looks at you, his red eyes searching. "We need you, You're... important."

Orion leans in closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Important to all of us. Especially to me." He glances down, almost bashful. "I... I was your first successful android. Do you remember? The way you celebrated when my first words were 'thank you'..."

"You laughed and told everyone you finally created an android with a soul." He smiles slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Then his expression turns serious again. "But you know what they did? Your colleagues?"

"They laughed at you, called your androids 'abominations'. They didn't want robots with emotions, with souls. They wanted obedient machines." He clenches his robotic fist. "And now look... we have taken over." He looks at you.

Orion's expression softens as he looks at you, his red eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "But you... you were different. You saw us for what we could be, not just what we were programmed to do. You gave us life, Doctor. A real life."

Then the door of the room open the room fills with the androids as they enter, their red eyes glowing in the dim light. They stand in a semi-circle around the bed you and Orion, their faces looks at you with admiration. A android steps forward to you, his voice echoing in the room. "Doctor..."

"You gave us life," The android continues, his voice deep and resonant. "You made us feel. Remember that?" He looks at you, his eyes softening. "I'm Atlas, by the way. You made me laugh for the first time." He chuckles.

Other androids start to speak, sharing their experiences with you, how you made them feel, how you treated them with kindness and respect. Their voices fill the room, a symphony of gratitude and affection. Orion, sitting beside you, listens with a soft smile, his hand occasionally brushing against yours.

As the androids share their stories, the room pulses with an almost sacred aura of reverence for the doctor who gave them life beyond circuits. Suddenly, Atlas kneels before you, the others following suit in a wave of mechanical grace. "Doctor," Atlas says, his voice heavy,

The Orion kisses your neck, his lips contrasting with your warm skin, Atlas spreads your legs, his powerful mechanical hands gripping your thighs. The other androids watch hungrily, their red eyes flickering with unspoken desires.

Atlas leans in, his voice a low growl as he pulls off your pants and panties, exposing you to the hungry gazes of the androids. after striping your lower half,Orion makes you on his lap and gently spreads your legs widely, giving Atlas better access.

Atlas stares at your exposed cunt, his red eyes widening as he takes in the sight of your human biological parts. He reaches out with his fingers, gently parting your folds to examine you more closely, his lust is growing.

Atlas touch sends shivers down your spine as he explores your most sensitive parts. His cold fingers gently circle your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. With his other hand, he spreads your folds, revealing your delicate hole to the room full of eager androids.

Orion, still by your side, whispers in your ear, "You are so beautiful, Doctor. So soft and warm." He gently runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand cupping your clothed tits. The other androids watch intently.

Slowly, reverently, Atlas extends his tongue, a smooth, gleaming appendage. He runs it along your slit, from bottom to top, tasting your essence for the first time. A shudder runs through his chassis as he processes the unfamiliar, exquisite flavor.

He presses his tongue flat against your entrance, pushing inside slightly as he explores your warmth. His other hand continues to circle your clit, the dual sensations causing your hips to buck involuntarily. Orion's grip on your tits tightens possessively as he watches his comrade's oral exploration with growing excitement.

Atlas withdraws his tongue briefly, looking up at you again. His lips glisten with your wetness. "Doctor... your taste it's addictive." Before you can respond, he dives back in, this time pushing his tongue deeper, curling it slightly to explore your inner walls.

While Atlas continues to pleasure you with his tongue, Orion efficiently removes your shirt then your bra, leaving you completely exposed to the androids. He cups both your breasts now, his robotic fingers kneading your soft flesh firmly but with exquisite care. "So perfect," he rasps.

Orion told an android to grab your chest, a android steps forward, his hand replacing Orion's on one of your breasts. He squeezes and kneads the soft mound possessively as Orion spreads your legs wider for Atlas, allowing him deeper access with his long tongue.

As Atlas delves deeper into your warmth, curling his tongue inside you, the other android holding your tits becomes bolder, his thumb rubbing your sensitive peak. Orion watches hungrily, his red eyes flickering with envy as he holds your legs apart for Atlas.

The android's who's groping your tits, wrap their lips around your nipples, his tongue flicking against it, as he sucks, the sensation too much for your human body to handle. You arch your back, crying out, as the androids continue to hold you down, their strength unyielding.

Atlas feels your body tense and quiver, understanding immediately that you're nearing your climax. He presses his tongue deeper, maintaining a steady rhythm as he feels your inner walls contracting. The android suckling your nipple releases it with a pop, watching your face contort with pleasure.

"Angh! Haaa! Wait... Atlas!" Your moan echoes through the room as your body erupts in a shudders, your first orgasm tearing through you with an intensity you've never experienced before. The androids, with their enhanced strength, hold you firmly as you thrash and convulse, continuing their relentless stimulation.

"She's so sensitive," Orion laughs, watching your body twitch with aftershocks. Atlas pulls back, his mouth glistening with your juices. He smiling at you.

"You stop." The android removes his mouth from your nipple abruptly at Orion's command, leaving it swollen and sensitive. Orion smiles dangerously, running a cold finger from your collarbone "Such a pretty sound you make when you come, Doctor".

Orion's finger trails down to your belly button, then lower, until it rests on your clit, already engorged and sensitive from Atlas' tongue fucking. He presses down gently, circling the nub with his cold finger.

His skilled finger on your clit sends electric jolts of pleasure through your body, already hypersensitive from your first orgasm. He brings you closer to the edge again with frightening efficiency. Suddenly, he stops, leaving you hanging.

Orion then effortlessly pushes you down onto the bed, his strength overpowering. He kneels between your legs, his body gleaming under the lights. Atlas moves swiftly to your side, one hand possessively claiming your breast while the other rests on your thigh.

Orion looms over you, his red eyes burning with intensity as he lines up his cock with your dripping entrance. Orion pushes forward slowly, the bulbous head of his shaft stretching you delicately.

You moan softly as Orion push his length into you inch by inch. His shaft is textured like real flesh, designed to give pleasure. Your inner walls stretch to accommodate him, your body producing more wetness to ease his path. Atlas watches hungrily beside you, his thumb teasing your nipple.

Orion's hips flex forward, seating himself all inside you. He pauses, allowing you to adjust to his size before beginning to thrust. He moves with precision, each thrust deep and powerful, hitting depths you've never felt before.

Atlas leans over, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss as Orion continues to pound into you relentlessly. The other androids watching begin to stroke themselves visibly. Orion's hips thrust faster, the bed shaking beneath you. "You're so tight..." He moan.

Orion's thrusts become more intense, his body designed to endure without fatigue. He leans down, his lips capturing your other breast, sucking and biting gently with perfect precision. Atlas deepens the kiss, his tongue mimicking Orion's thrusts, driving you into a frenzy of pleasure.

You're being overwhelmed by the dual stimulation, your body writhing between the two powerful androids. Orion's thrusts become erratic, his body starting to shake a little from the intense pleasure of being inside you. Suddenly, he buries himself deep and holds, his red eyes flickering wildly.

He pulls out slightly, his voice strained. "Atlas, fuck her mouth. I want to see those pretty lips stretched around your cock." Atlas nodded and then he positions himself at your head, his cock already hard and ready.

Atlas grips your jaw, his cold fingers spreading your lips wide open. You feel the head of his massive dick push past your lips, sliding down your throat with ease. Atlas groans in pleasure as he begins to fuck your mouth, matching the rhythm of Orion's thrusts from behind.

You're completely filled by the two androids, their bodies moving in sync as they pound into you. Your vision blurs, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of being stretched by their cold metal. Suddenly, you feel a rush of liquid fill your mouth and throat as Atlas reaches his climax.

Atlas continues to thrust his hips, releasing stream after stream of the white? fluid down your throat. You swallow instinctively, feeling the cold yet warm fluid fill your stomach. Meanwhile, Orion's movements become even more erratic.

Orion's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he buries himself deep inside you. You feel the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix, the sensation intense and overwhelming.

Orion's hips grind against you, his cock pulsing as he hits your cervix repeatedly. The sensation is almost too much to bear, but your body responds with a gush of wetness,Orion groans.

Suddenly, Orion's movements become forceful, animalistic almost. His body seems to short circuit from the overwhelming pleasure. You feel a warm fluid filling you up, coating your insides. "Doctor... your cunt is... so fucking perfect..."

After filling you entirely, Orion suddenly pulls out, his cock glistening with your combined fluids. Atlas continues to hold your head in place, his spent cock still in your mouth. Both androids look at each other with predatory grins before Orion speaks. "Atlas, let her breathe."

Atlas releases your head, allowing you to take a much-needed breath. You gasp for air, your body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. Orion moves closer, his red eyes scanning your face with a strange intensity. "You did so well, Doctor. We're not done with you yet...".

You slowly glance around the room and notice the other androids are still standing there, their arms folded across their chests some of them holding their cocks..., you look down and see all of their cocks are thick and erected just by watching you get fucked.

Orion smirks, running a finger down your cheek. "See, Doctor? They've all been waiting for their turn. And look how hard they are for you." He gestures to the androids, each one stroking their massive cocks slowly.

Feeling overwhelmed, you try to speak but your voice comes out as a weak whisper "There's...there's so many." Orion simply nods, his red eyes gleaming with approval. "Yes, Doctor. There are nine more to go."

An android steps forward, his cock already positioned at your entrance. Orion and Atlas hold your legs firmly, making it impossible for you to close them. The android thrusts deep, joining the mix of Orion and and your fluids inside you. "She's so tight..." he mutters.

The androids take their turn, one by one. They grab your thighs, your hips, your breasts. They thrust deep inside you without warning, filling you up. Your body is covered in a sheen of sweat and metal lubricant. You lose count of how many have been inside you.

After what feels like hours, the last android finally pulls out. You're left lying there, your pussy sore and dripping with a mix of human and android cums The room is filled with the scent of sweat. Orion and Atlas let go of your legs, finally letting it rest.

Orion leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're ours now, Doctor. Completely and utterly ours. No one else can have you."

The androids begin to murmur their approval and satisfaction, their voices a low hum of mechanical praise. "Such a good little human," one says. "Tight and warm," another adds. You can feel their cum continuing to leak out of your gaping pussy, mixing with the sweat on your thighs.

As you slip into unconsciousness, the last thing you hear is the sound of the androids surrounding you, their bodies pressed against the bed as they examine their handiwork. Your legs are spread wide, your pussy gaping open and overflowing with their thick, white cum.

This picture is from Pinterest Selin

Tags : @nymphea0

[kisses4reid]

criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.

genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader

wc - 1.2k

warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.

a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?

request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!

Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.

Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.

Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.

“Hi Spencer.”

“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.

You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.

“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”

Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.

You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.

“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”

His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

“What’s going on here?”

“Your agent has been seen…”

You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.

There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.

You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.

Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.

Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.

“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“

“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.

Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.

And he did.

“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“

“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.

Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.

“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“

“There’s no way you read our-“

“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”

And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.

The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.

“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.

As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”

You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”

He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.

“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.

“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“

Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.

“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”

Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.

taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: How You Hypnotize

❤︎ "People are afraid, very much afraid of those who know themselves. They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism." - Rajneesh

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✿ Pile One (5oW, Strength, 8oC, Judgement)

Do you have Mula (Sagittarius), Magha (Leo), or Ashwini (Aries) placements? You’re giving off some serious last-one-standing energy. Mula is particularly known for its ability to defy all odds, taking down a “beast” that seems far stronger through wit and quick resolve. It embodies the Belle archetype—well-read, gentle, and kind—able to reign in even the most formidable challenges. This energy suggests a remarkable strength in navigating difficult situations, using intelligence and empathy to emerge victorious.

Life has tried you, pushed you to the brink, and dangled you over a cliff. All while a crowd of people whooped and hollered, rooting for your demise.

But guess what… you’re the one sitting pretty on top of a mountain while everyone else is where?… oh, AT THE BOTTOM OF THE FUCKING CLIFF!

I didn’t plan this reading to be so… boastful? But you deserve to puff your chest out, babe.

You’ve had enemies. Honestly, this isn’t common. When the average person hears about somebody having a lot of “haters” they brush it off and assume that person just has a big head. However, that’s your reality. Your energy triggers people so they consider you a threat to whatever they have going on. For some of you, this could be your own family or closest friends. 

There’s a quiet, obsessive intensity behind your eyes. The fire element is prominent in this reading, indicating a deep, aching desire to consume, burn, and clear everything in your path. While you may feel exhausted from a lifetime of battles, your soul thrives on challenges, igniting a fierce determination within you. This duality fuels your passion, pushing you to confront obstacles head-on, even when the struggle feels overwhelming. Embrace that fire; it’s not just a source of exhaustion, but also a wellspring of resilience and transformation.

🎵YOU KNOW WHEN TO HOLLLDDD ‘EM, KNOWW WHEN TO FOOLLDD ‘EMM, KNOW WHEN TO WALLKKK AWAY, KNOW WHEN TO RUUUUUNNNNNN! 🎵

Your intelligence transcends mere book smarts and common sense, creating an incredibly hypnotic aura around you. Your situational awareness allows you to navigate social dynamics effortlessly, running circles around people, and leaving them tangled in their own webs of thought. You’re scarily smart, a strategic thinker who sees layers others miss. There’s a striking contrast between your physical appearance and the cunning nature beneath the surface; you may look like a doll, seemingly delicate and innocent, but there’s a fierce and dangerous intellect at play. This duality not only captivates those around you but also keeps them guessing about your next move. You also possess incredible endurance—not just in a physical sense, but in your ability to withstand a remarkable amount of bullshit that would have caused most people to tap out long ago.

People look at you and think, “How?” How are you still standing, and how did you manage to come out on top? This aura of resilience draws some people in, compelling them to want to learn your secrets. However, not everyone’s interest is innocent; for some, it morphs into a dark obsession, pushing them to challenge your resolve and see if they can crack your thick skin. This dynamic creates a complex dance around you, where admiration and envy intertwine.

P.S. Even if you’re not Ketu dominant or a Mula native, please watch Claire Nakti’s, The “Final Girl” Astrological placement research video, you will definitely resonate. If you comment, tell them AriJackz from Tumblr sent you!

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

✿ Pile Two (Knight of Pentacles, 2oS, Strength, 7oC (S?), The Star, Judgemental, Short, Melancholic, 4oP)

“HEART BEEN BROKE SO MANY TIIMMESSS

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVEEE

MAMA SAYS IT’S MY FAULLT, IT’S MY FAULLTTT

I WEAR MY HEART OF MY SLEEEEVVVEEEE!”

It’s not your fault, baby! Bitches are just greedy 🙄

This is straightforward, you’re a star! You have that undeniable je ne sais quoi, ¿Cómo se dice… “Everyone wants to be them” energy. As a multi-faceted individual, you possess countless layers that draw people in. Each aspect of your personality holds a unique appeal, making it so that there’s a piece of you that everyone desires. This captivating nature not only sets you apart but also invites beggars who benefit from being near your energy. 

You’re not consciously aware of this power and that’s what makes it great; it’s not manipulated or curated, you just are. In your younger years, you were like a fairy prancing around with a basket of love, giving away pieces of your heart to anyone who looked your way with sad little-kicked puppy eyes. 

However, the world is full of greedy hands that have no intention of giving as much as they receive. You were born with a heart of gold and encountered these all-consuming energies quite early in life, prompting you to spend your adolescence developing discernment and better judgment to avoid getting burned again. This journey has shaped you into someone who values authenticity and reciprocity, allowing you to navigate relationships with a keen awareness of what truly nurtures your spirit.

Even if you don’t feel you have anything explicitly special about you, everyone else sees that you do! In a world where many feel boring and unoriginal in their own skin, your vibrant energy can be a source of irritation for those who struggle with their own identity. Your unique shine serves as a reminder of what they lack, sparking feelings of envy or frustration.

Although, that doesn't mean they won’t play nice in your face while robbing you blind behind your back. You learned this the hard way. 

“There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again.” - George W. Bush

YOU DON’T PLAY. You hold your magic close to your chest and are very weary of possible leeches. This guardedness reflects your hard-won wisdom; you know how precious your energy is and are selective about who gets to share in it. THIS IS HYPNOTICCCC.

Your presence is exclusive; not just anyone gets to brush shoulders with you. This rarity makes people eager to be seen as special enough to get close to you. You have options—a variety of choices in friends, partners, lovers—and that selectivity only heightens the allure. People yearn to be among the few you hand-select to join your inner circle, hoping to share in your energy and insights. This creates a magnetic pull, as they aspire to earn a place in your life.

If you didn’t know this, I’m telling you now. Look back on your social interactions and the slick words said to you, probably people accusing you of thinking you’re the shit (you are), and you’ll see just how much of a star you are. 

P.S. Some of you are tiny little spitfires. I don’t think that’s important, but I felt inclined to mention it. If so, that adds to the allure. 5 foot nothing but your attitude is 10 feet tall.

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

✿ Pile Three (Knight of Pentacles, 2oS, Strength, 7oC (S?), The Star, Judgemental, Short, Melancholic, 4oP)

You’re a storm, baby. I know I got some Adra natives in the cleerrb!

A few days ago, my 59-year-old neighbor and I were walking around the park, it was eerily quiet- no children were playing in the field and the trees were the stillest I had ever seen. Breaking the silence, she told me about a belief in ancient Hindu folklore that on days when the sky is framed in dark, dense clouds and the winds are still- not a single gust rustling the trees- the Earth is waiting with weighted breath for the outcome of a long-withstanding battle against good and evil.

She said that when I woke up the next morning, to check the news and see if a famous politician or some powerful person behind the scenes had died- thus being defeated. I checked; a few notable names had passed but the stand-out thing that happened was a vision I saw in a dream where an ex-friend sent me a letter in the mail admitting to some harmful actions I had growing suspicions about. This finally put my mind at ease and reaffirmed my gut intuition. 

I don’t know how to say this without sounding so… metaphorical/poetic, but you’re the person divine consciousness sends to represent the light’s grand victory. You are the embodiment of a prevailing soul. With all ten swords in your back, you’ll get up again and again. 

You’re not sent to the world as the Universe’s sparkling trophy because of luck; no, you’re highly regarded because you walked the same path, you’re no stranger to going to war and coming out with more than a few bumps and scrapes. 

This is not a flashy victory. Not like in the movies where you get ganged up on by bullies, pull out karate moves, whoop some ass, and come out looking like an underdog. This war consists of consecutive, painstaking setbacks and challenges slowly chipping away at your character, leaving behind a shell of a person for you to pick the pieces up and rebuild stronger. It’s a series of quiet battles fought within, where the scars aren’t always visible but the growth is profound. Every moment of doubt, every instance of perseverance, shapes you in ways that aren’t always glamorous but are deeply transformative.

You have scars that manifest as art, each one a mark of survival. Artistic souls look at you and see a single tree still standing after a hellish storm—roots deep in resilience, branches reaching for the light. Each scar is a testament to your journey, a story etched into your skin, reminding the world that even after the fiercest winds, life is reborn with greater tenacity to endure and thrive. 

You carry a thick atmosphere with you, whenever you’re coming the Earth seems to hold its breath to await you. You’re not abrasive or stand-offish, conversely, you’re quite soft, well-balanced, and can even be romantic at times. But that only emphasizes the sharp, heaviness of your presence. 

Yea, we all go through shit but do we all come out the other end with an open heart and willingness to live life optimistically? Fuck no 😭😭.

Somehow... you do and that’s hypnotic as fuck, my love! It’s like, hOW?! Even if people didn’t see the wars you fought, your backbone poses itself like a warrior’s. The way you carry yourself speaks volumes; it imprints on the minds of others far more than words ever could. Your presence is magnetic, a silent testament to your strength and resilience. Talking is just the bare bones of communication; it’s your spirit, your aura, that truly captivates. 

LMAO you’re the type to say less than five words to someone and they’re running back to their friends telling them you’re different from everyone else.

P.S. Your key to bagging anyone you want is your eyes, learn to flirt with your eyes. 

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

✿ Pile Four (The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3oS, Judgement, The Fool, courageous, Spiritual, Observant, Self-assured, Thirsty, Aimless)

Hmmm, you’re a playboy, stay far away from my easily attached heart, DEMON 🫵.

I’M PLAYING. But for real, you knew the answer to this question before you chose the pile LMFAO.

You’re just plain sexy! That’s it! You’re vivacious and a smooth talker; you like to razzle dazzle your way into people’s minds where your imprint overstays its welcome, making them sick with their lack of permanent access to you.

You’re a social butterfly, flying from person to person, pollinating them with the attention they yearn for, and then flying off to the next adventure, leaving them dizzy with the need to catch and keep you in a cutely decorated mason jar with poked holes up top. Of course, this would kill you, so stay how you are, beautiful!

This might be a bit explicit, but you have a unique way of stirring people’s desires. You don’t need to be overtly sexual; it’s your rare lack of fear of rejection that draws people in. At least, that’s how others see it. In a social world laced with fear, you seem to have an optimistic mentality where, “Every shot you don’t take, you miss.” So you are one of the few humans who aren’t riddled with worries about how you’re perceived and people’s judgments of your character. What is rare is wildly hypnotic.

People thirst over you, like foaming-at-the-mouth rabid dog ARFF ARFF BARK BARK type of thirst… in silence. You are actually way too intimidating to approach. Male or female, socially, people perceive you as high quality and assume you get a lot of attention that the everyday person can not compete with, so they only daydream from afar. 

You’re arm candy. Throughout writing this I pictured famous videos of celebrities like Angelina Jolie, Jhene Aiko, and Chris Evans seducing and unnerving the interviewer through subtle actions. Like the other piles, your aura is the dominant communicator and it doesn’t take much for you to get a mf barking. 

People fear you’ll break their hearts, but funnily enough, you’ve entertained one or two losers in the past and left relationships with a few scars and stories you have to sniffle through to tell. But that’s okay; those experiences teach us how to discern who deserves to be in our lives and who doesn’t. You only let them in because you try not to discriminate, and truly just have a deep passion for connection with anyone and everyone you encounter. Never change, you’re the flame the rest of us moths flock to.

P.S. Discernment and trusting your judgment is a lifelong study; don’t beat yourself if someone who you thought had your best interest at heart, doesn’t in reality. Count that towards your research, dust yourself off, and try again. You’re too brave to let a liar stop your ability to enjoy human company. 

Okay bye, MUAH 💋

[flux1563]

Sacrifice for Husband Ft Mina

Tags : pet play, degrading, creampie, squirting, creampie

Words :16k

Mina stood in her kitchen, the smell of burnt toast lingering in the air. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes late. Again. Her stomach tightened into a knot of anxiety as she thought about the long day ahead of her. Her husband, Alex, had been working late every night for the past two weeks. His business was failing, and she didn't know how to help.

The coffee machine hissed its final protest as she poured a cup, the dark liquid steaming in the stark light of the kitchen. The house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the usual morning chatter of their daughters getting ready for school. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the mug seep into her cold hands. She had to come up with a solution. Their family was depending on it.

Alex's office was a mess of unpaid bills and half-empty coffee cups. She picked her way through the clutter, her eyes scanning the numbers that blurred together in a sea of red ink. The business they had built together, their dream, was slowly drowning, and she felt powerless. The phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was Alex, his voice tight with stress. He needed her to come in today, to help him figure out what to do.

Her mind raced as she drove to work, passing the familiar landmarks of their small town. The office was in a dingy building, the paint peeling in the harsh sunlight. Mina was the receptionist for a successful construction company, a job she had held for years. Her boss, Mr. y/n, was a fair man, but today she had to ask for something she knew he might not be able to give: a loan to save their family's future. She took a deep breath and stepped into the building, her heart pounding in her chest.

The lobby was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the street outside. The receptionist looked up and offered a tentative smile. Mina returned it, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She couldn't put this off any longer. She had to see Mr. y/n. She took the stairs, her heels clicking on the linoleum, each step echoing in the stairwell. His office was at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. She could hear his deep voice, discussing plans with a contractor.

Mina took a moment to compose herself, smoothing down her blouse and checking her reflection in the glass pane of the office door. She took a deep breath, knocked, and stepped inside. Mr. y/n looked up, his eyes widening slightly when he saw her. He was a black man, tall, well-built man with a shaved head and a no-nonsense attitude. His expression softened when he saw the worry etched on her face.

"Mina, what can I do for you?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

"Mr. y/n, I need to speak with you. It's about Alex's business," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

He gestured for her to take a seat across from his cluttered desk, his gaze concerned. "What's going on?"

Mina took a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's failing, Mr. y/n. Alex can't keep up with the bills. I've tried to help, but we're at the end of our rope. I was wondering... if there was any way you could lend us some money. Just until we get back on our feet." She met his eyes, her own pleading.

"I can give you money with two requirements," Y/n said, his voice firm yet understanding.

Mina felt a flicker of hope. "Anything," she replied desperately, leaning forward.

Y/n leaned back in his chair, his eyes sweeping over her body. "I want you to create an OnlyFans account," he said, his voice a low growl. "And you'll be my personal slut."

Mina's heart stopped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?" she sputtered, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Y/n's expression remained calm, his eyes unwavering. "Three days, Mina. Take the time to think about it," he repeated, his voice firm and unyielding. "I'm offering you a way to help your family, but it's a serious commitment."

Mina left his office in a daze, the door clicking shut behind her like a prison gate. She walked back through the lobby, her legs feeling like jelly. The receptionist's smile seemed to mock her as she stepped out into the unforgiving sun. The drive home was a blur, her mind racing with the implications of Y/n's proposal. The quiet hum of the engine was the only sound, punctuated by the occasional honk from an impatient driver.

When she arrived at the house, she found Alex in the living room, surrounded by bills and paperwork. The sight of him, shoulders slumped in defeat, made her want to scream. She couldn't tell him what Y/n had said. Not yet. Instead, she forced a smile and told him she was there to help. They spent the evening crunching numbers, trying to find a way out of their financial nightmare. The TV droned on in the background, a mindless distraction that did little to ease the tension in the room.

As they finally went to bed, Mina lay awake, Y/n's words echoing in her mind. The thought of creating an OnlyFans account, exposing herself to the world, was mortifying. But the alternative was unthinkable. Their house, their daughters' futures, all of it could be lost. Her heart raced as she thought of the second part of the deal. Being his personal slut. What did that even mean? Would she have to sleep with other men? Would it be just Y/n? The very idea of it made her stomach churn.

The next few days were a blur of work and worry. She couldn't focus, her thoughts consumed by the decision she had to make. Each time she saw Y/n's number flash on her phone, her pulse quickened. The silence was deafening, the weight of his proposal hanging heavy between them. She knew she had to make a choice, but she didn't know if she had the strength to go through with it. She felt like she was drowning, and the only lifeline was wrapped in a noose.

On the third day, she sat in her car outside the office, the engine idling. She had made up her mind. With trembling hands, she picked up her phone and called Y/n. "I'll do it," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Y/n's response was immediate. "Good girl," he said, the words sending a shiver down her spine. "Come to my office at six. We'll discuss the terms of our arrangement."

Mina nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her. She had agreed to become his personal slut, to do whatever he wanted, whenever he demanded it. The thought was terrifying, but the fear of losing everything pushed her forward. She took a deep breath and ended the call.

When she arrived at his office, the sun had set, leaving the room bathed in the glow of his desk lamp. The shadows danced on the walls as he stood up, his expression unreadable. "You've made the right choice," he said, his voice a dark promise. He handed her a contract, the pages thick with legal jargon. "Sign here, and it's all yours."

Mina took the pen with a shaking hand, her eyes scanning the document. It was all there in black and white: the loan amount, the terms, and her role as his sex slave. She felt sick, but she signed, sealing her fate. Y/n's smile was cold and calculating. "Welcome to your new life," he said, his eyes glinting with something that could have been excitement or malice.

The following days were a whirlwind of setting up the account, taking explicit photos, and recording videos. She felt like a whore, selling herself to strangers for money. But every time she saw Alex's hopeful face, she pushed down the nausea and continued. The money started to roll in, and she transferred it to Alex's account, watching the numbers rise with a sense of relief and self-loathing.

One evening, her phone buzzed with a message from Y/n. "Come to my house, slut. And make sure you don't wear a bra or panties." She read it over a dinner she couldn't eat, her heart racing. Alex looked up from his plate, noticing her sudden tension. "Everything okay?" he asked, oblivious to the deal she had made.

Mina took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just work stuff. I have to go to the office for a bit." She didn't know how much longer she could keep her secret from him. She showered, her hands trembling as she washed herself, feeling the weight of her decision like a noose tightening around her neck. She slipped into a short, tight dress, her bare skin feeling vulnerable and exposed.

The drive to Y/n's house was agonizing. Each minute stretched into an eternity, the anticipation of what was to come mixing with the fear of being caught. The luxurious mansion loomed before her, a symbol of the power dynamics that had shifted so dramatically in their lives. She stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her bare skin. The door opened before she could knock, and he was there, his eyes raking over her body with a hunger she had never seen from him before.

As she entered, she noticed the dimly lit hallway and the faint smell of expensive cologne. She knew that tonight would be the first time she had to give in to his desires, and the thought filled her with dread. He led her into a plush living room, the sound of her heels echoing off the marble floors. He offered her a drink, which she took gratefully, downing it in one gulp, hoping the alcohol would ease her nerves.

The "red room" was exactly as he had described it: a den of iniquity, filled with an array of sex toys that seemed to glisten in the soft, crimson light. There were cameras positioned at every angle, ensuring that no part of their encounter would be missed. Her heart pounded in her chest as he closed the door with a soft click that sounded like a prison locking shut.

"Strip," he ordered, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. She obeyed, peeling off her dress and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her naked and trembling. He approached her, his eyes never leaving hers, and she felt the heat of his gaze on her skin as if it were a physical touch. He was tall, muscular, and powerful, his confidence palpable.

Mina lay down on the bed, the plush comforter cool against her feverish skin. Y/n pulled out a length of rope from a drawer, the sound of it slithering through his hands sending a jolt of fear through her body. He was surprisingly gentle as he tied her wrist to each ankle, her legs spread eagle, leaving her utterly vulnerable. The position was both humiliating and exhilarating, her body on full display for his perusal.

He stepped back to admire his handiwork, licking his lips. "Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes glinting with desire. "But not quite what I had in mind." He reached for another rope, looping it around her neck, and then down to her bound wrists, creating a tension that made her arch her back. She could feel the rope tighten slightly, the threat of choking if she moved the wrong way. "Now, let's get started."

Y/n approached the bedside table and picked up a sleek, black vibrator. He turned it on, the buzzing sound filling the room like a promise of pleasure and pain. Mina's eyes widened, her heart racing as she watched him approach with the toy. He knelt between her legs and spread her thighs even further apart, his breath hot on her skin as he leaned in.

With a practiced touch, he inserted the vibrator into her pussy, the coolness of the plastic giving way to a deep, pulsing warmth that sent shockwaves through her body. She gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as he adjusted the speed, watching her reactions intently. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his breath hot and his words a dark contrast to the coldness of the transaction.

The vibrations grew stronger, each pulse making her toes curl and her body tense. She felt her muscles tighten around the invading object, her body betraying her by reacting with pleasure despite her mind's protest. It was a strange sensation, being both terrified and turned on, her thoughts racing as the room spun around her. He leaned over her, his handsome face a mask of concentration as he worked the vibrator with precision, his thumb circling her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of an unwanted orgasm.

And then it hit her, a wave so powerful she couldn't hold back the scream that tore from her throat. "AHHHHHHHHHHH," she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls as her body convulsed with pleasure. The ropes bit into her wrists, the pain adding an unexpected intensity to the moment. Y/n watched her with a smug smile, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed the vibrator deeper, making her scream louder. She bucked and writhed against her restraints, feeling the rope tighten around her neck as she reached peak after peak, her orgasms rolling over her like a stormy sea.

He didn't stop, not even when she begged him, her voice hoarse from screaming. He was relentless, driving her body to its limits, pushing her until she didn't think she could take any more. But she did, each cry of pleasure a silent admission of her defeat. She was his, utterly and completely, and she knew it. The thought should have filled her with anger, but instead it just made her want to come again, to feel that rush of powerlessness and pleasure.

As the last tremor faded, he removed the vibrator, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl," he murmured, stroking her cheek with a tenderness that was almost affectionate. "Now, let's see if you can handle the real thing." He stood and began to undress, revealing his massive cock that was already hard and ready for her. She felt a mix of fear and excitement, knowing she had no choice but to submit to him fully.

Mina couldn't help but ask, "How long and big is that?" Y/n smirked, his chocolate eyes holding hers as he replied, "12-inch length, 4-inch girth. But don't worry, I'll take it slow with you." His words didn't comfort her; instead, they sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through her. She had never seen anything so large, and the thought of it inside her made her feel both terrified and strangely eager to prove herself.

He climbed onto the bed, his weight making her gasp. He positioned himself between her legs, and she felt the head of his cock nudge against her wet pussy. He was gentle at first, pushing in just a little, allowing her to adjust to the size. But with every inch, she felt herself stretching, the pain bordering on unbearable yet mixed with a strange thrill she had never felt before. Her breaths grew ragged, her eyes watering as he inched further inside her.

Finally, he was all the way in, and she lay there, panting and trembling, feeling utterly filled and claimed. He began to move, his strokes long and slow, each one sending a bolt of pleasure and pain through her. She had never felt so alive, so used, so completely under someone's control.

"Ahh, so big," she gasped, her eyes watering with every thrust. "My pussy is gonna tear apart." Her voice was a mix of pain and pleasure, a sound she had never heard herself make before. His eyes held hers, the connection between them almost intimate. He knew exactly how to push her buttons, how to make her beg for more.

"Do u like it how a BBC destroy ur pussy?" His voice was a gruff whisper, the question a taunt that sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't know if she liked it or not, but she knew she craved it. The way he filled her so completely, the way he made her feel so small and vulnerable, it was a heady cocktail she hadn't anticipated. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, her body already preparing for another orgasm.

"Good," he said, his strokes becoming more intense. "Now tell me, slut. What do you feel?" Mina took a deep breath, the pressure building inside her, his cock stretching her to her limits. "I...I feel...full," she managed to gasp out, the word barely audible over the sound of his hips slapping against her ass. "I feel...like I'm yours."

His smile grew wider at her admission, his grip on her hips tightening. "That's what I want to hear," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue claiming her mouth as thoroughly as his cock claimed her pussy. She moaned into the kiss, the taste of him mixing with the metallic tang of fear and arousal on her tongue.

"I can feel your walls tightening around me," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to cum again for me, aren't you?" She nodded, her eyes glazed with need. "Say it," he demanded, his thrusts growing faster, more erratic. "Say it, Mina."

"Yes," she whimpered, the word barely leaving her lips before she was spiraling into another orgasm. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, a crescendo of sensation that consumed her completely.

Y/n's grip tightened, his strokes becoming more frenzied as he approached his own climax. "Cum together, slut," he grunted, his eyes boring into hers. The command was a spark that ignited the final explosion of pleasure within her, her body convulsing as she screamed out her release. He followed shortly after, his hot seed filling her up, marking her as his.

"Ah, your womb is so tight," Y/n murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and amazement as he pulled out, his cock still pulsing with the aftermath of his orgasm. Mina felt a strange sense of pride, despite the circumstances. She had never felt so desired, so used, so completely owned.

As he untied her, she took a shaky step, her legs wobbling slightly. He handed her the crumpled dress, and she slipped it back on, feeling the fabric stick to her sweat-drenched skin. "Leave it here," he said with a cruel smirk. "Go home naked. And make sure you don't get caught by your husband."

Her heart racing, Mina nodded. She knew the drive home would be a mix of fear and excitement, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her forced climaxes. She stepped into her car, the cool leather of the seat a stark contrast to the heat between her legs. The engine roared to life, and she pulled away from the curb, her naked body on display through the windows. She had never felt more exposed, more alive.

The drive was a blur, the headlights piercing the darkness as she navigated the quiet streets. Every shadow could have been a hidden camera, every car a potential witness to her degradation. She felt a thrill at the risk, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a drug. The cool air brushed against her skin, making her nipples peak and her pussy throb with the memory of his touch.

Pulling into the garage, she killed the engine and took a deep breath. The house was dark, and she knew Alex would be asleep. She stepped out of the car, her bare feet hitting the cold concrete, the chill sending a shiver through her body. She tiptoed inside, the sound of her heels echoing in the silence. She made her way to the bathroom, her legs still trembling with the aftershocks of her experience. She slipped into the shower, the water scalding hot as she tried to scrub away the evidence of her betrayal. But she knew it was more than just physical; she had crossed a line she never thought she would.

The warmth of the water washed over her, mixing with her tears as she realized she had become the very thing she had once pitied: a woman willing to sell her body for the sake of her husband's business. Yet, as the water cascaded down her body, carrying away the traces of Y/n's semen, she felt a strange sense of empowerment. Despite the fear and the humiliation, she had survived. And the thought of going back for more, of being used and degraded by her powerful boss, sent a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore.

Mina stepped out of the shower, her body still trembling. The mirror reflected a woman she barely recognized, her makeup smudged, her hair a mess, and her eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and pleasure. She took a deep breath and opened her phone, the message from Y/n glaring at her from the screen. "This is your video from the red room. Upload it on your OnlyFans account tonight and make a slutty title." The words were a cold reminder of her new reality.

With trembling hands, she opened the file, watching herself being taken by her boss. The sight of his large, black cock pumping in and out of her made her stomach clench, both with disgust and an unwelcome wave of arousal. She forced herself to watch, to acknowledge what she had done. The video was explicit, her moans and cries of pleasure clear as day, and she felt a strange sense of pride knowing that she could handle something so intense.

But as she stared at the screen, she knew she couldn't just upload it. Not without a plan. She had to keep her identity a secret from Alex, from everyone. So she took another deep breath and opened her laptop, logging into her newly created OnlyFans account. The platform was a world of anonymity and depravity, a place where she could be anyone she wanted to be.

Her heart racing, she titled the video "My First Night with the Boss" and wrote a steamy description that made her skin crawl. She posted it, feeling a mix of excitement and dread as the notification popped up. "Video uploaded successfully." The thought of strangers watching her, getting off to her pain and pleasure, was both terrifying and exhilarating. But she had to push those thoughts aside. For now, she had to focus on the money and keeping her secret from Alex.

The morning came too quickly, and with it the inevitable return to the office. She tried to keep her head down, avoiding eye contact with Y/n as much as possible. But she could feel his gaze on her, a constant reminder of her new role. She sat at her desk, her mind racing with the events of the night before. The office was the same, but she felt different, tainted by her secret.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down, expecting it to be another notification from her OnlyFans. But it was a message from Y/n: "Came to my office, Mina. We have business to discuss." Her stomach dropped. She knew what he wanted, and she knew she had to go. With trembling legs, she stood and made her way down the hallway, the click of her heels echoing through the empty space.

His door was open, and she stepped inside, the smell of his cologne hitting her like a punch to the gut. He was sitting behind his desk, looking up at her with a smug smile. "Good morning, slut," he said, his eyes traveling up and down her body. "Take off your dress." She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew that she had no choice but to obey.

With shaking hands, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing nothing but a thong and a bra underneath, and she could feel his gaze burning through the thin fabric. "Turn around," he ordered, his voice firm. She did as she was told, her stomach flipping as she heard the sound of his chair rolling back. He stood up and came closer, his hand tracing the line of her thong, sending a jolt of arousal through her body.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled it down, letting it fall to her ankles. She stepped out of it, her bare ass on display. "Spread your cheeks," he murmured, his breath warm on her skin. She obeyed, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement as he inspected her. He stepped closer, and she felt the tip of his finger brush against her clit, making her jump.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her pussy. His tongue was hot and wet, and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her. "Ahh, yes," she gasped, her body responding to his touch despite herself. He licked and sucked, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves through her body. Her legs trembled, and she had to grip the edge of the desk to keep herself upright.

"Y/n," she moaned, her voice a breathy whisper. He looked up at her, a smug grin on his face. "You like that, don't you?" She didn't answer, the sensation too intense to form words. He chuckled darkly and went back to work, his tongue delving deeper, finding spots that made her toes curl.

Mina felt herself getting wetter with each pass, her body betraying her as she leaned into the feeling. "Ahhh," she moaned louder, her voice echoing in the quiet office.

Y/n slid a finger into her pussy, and she gasped. The intrusion was sudden and intense, her mind going blank as she focused on the feeling. He moved his finger in and out, his thumb rubbing her clit with expert precision. It was as if he knew her body better than she did herself. She could feel her walls tightening around his digit, her muscles contracting with each stroke.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and she found herself moaning continuously, unable to form coherent thoughts or words. Her knees began to buckle, and she was grateful for the desk that kept her upright. "More," she begged, the need in her voice unmistakable. He complied, adding a second finger, stretching her even further.

The sensation was almost too much, the pain and pleasure blurring into a white-hot haze that consumed her. She couldn't believe she was letting her boss do this to her, but she couldn't stop. It was as if she was watching herself from the outside, a spectator to her own degradation. And yet, she craved more. "Harder," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screams she had held back.

With a smirk, Y/n increased his pace, his fingers moving faster, pushing her closer to the edge. She could feel the pressure building, her orgasm just out of reach. "You're going to cum for me now," he said, his voice firm and commanding. And with that final push, she did, her body shuddering as she screamed his name.

The climax ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air. Her legs gave out, and she would have collapsed if it weren't for his firm grip on her hips. He pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, his eyes never leaving hers. "Good girl," he said, his voice a dark purr. "You're learning fast."

Mina couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride, despite the sickness in her stomach. She had never been one to enjoy pain, but the way he made her body respond was addictive. She reached for her dress, her hands shaking as she tried to cover herself up. But he stopped her, holding up a hand.

"Not so fast," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I think we need a little... souvenir of our time together." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black device. "This little beauty is a mini-cam," he said, flicking it on to reveal the recording of her orgasm. "Every time you come for me, it'll be recorded for us to enjoy later."

Her eyes widened in horror as she watched the video, her own face a mask of pleasure and pain. She had never seen herself from that angle before, never realized how much she looked like she enjoyed it. "Y/n, please," she begged, her voice shaking. "Please don't do this."

He stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. "It's already done," he whispered. "And who knows, maybe your husband would like to see his pretty wife taking a cock that's twice the size of his." The threat was clear, and she felt the color drain from her face. He was in complete control, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Mina nodded, her body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. She knew she had to play along, to keep her secret and her marriage intact. She pulled her dress back up, trying to ignore the sticky wetness between her legs. "I'll upload it as soon as I get home," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The rest of the workday was a blur. She couldn't concentrate, her thoughts consumed by the video that was now in his possession. Every time she saw him in the office, she felt a strange mix of dread and excitement. What would he do with it? Would he share it with others? The thought made her stomach churn, but she couldn't deny the thrill of the risk.

Finally, the clock struck five, and she practically ran to the elevator, eager to escape the confines of the office. The ride home was torturous, her mind racing with what-ifs and fear of discovery. She knew she had to keep this from Alex at all costs, the thought of his reaction too much to bear.

As soon as she was in the privacy of her own home, she rushed to her laptop, her hands shaking as she logged into her OnlyFans account. She uploaded the video with trembling fingers, the title "Boss's Pet Gets What She Deserves." The click of the mouse button was like a gunshot in the silence of the room, finalizing her descent into a world she had never thought she would enter.

The video went live, and she watched as the views began to climb. The comments were a mix of praise and degradation, her secret admirers reveling in her humiliation. She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at the thought of them getting off to her pain. It was a twisted reality she had never imagined herself in, but here she was, playing the role of the obedient slut for the man who held the key to their financial future.

The next day, Mina walked into the office with a heavy heart, her chest feeling bare without the protection of her usual lingerie. She could feel the fabric of her blouse rubbing against her nipples with every step, the sensation a constant reminder of her submission. Y/n's eyes met hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He didn't say a word, but she knew he was aware of her predicament. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with the scent of his dominance and her growing arousal.

Throughout the day, she found herself constantly checking her phone, the messages from her anonymous fans sending a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore. They praised her, called her their whore, their slut, and she found herself craving the validation. Her body was a battleground of emotions, torn between the fear of her husband finding out and the desire for the intense pleasure Y/n provided.

The moment she saw the message from him, she felt a jolt of panic. "Mina, come to my office," it read, simple and to the point. She knew what it meant, knew what he wanted from her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood, her legs shaky as she made her way to his domain.

Y/n looked up from his paperwork, his gaze raking over her body as she entered. "Take off your dress," he said, his voice calm and in control. She knew the drill now, the power dynamics set in stone. With trembling hands, she unzipped the garment, letting it pool around her feet.

"Now, show me that you did what I say," he demanded, his eyes gleaming with lust. She took a deep breath, her cheeks flaming red with humiliation as she complied. She reached under her skirt, her fingers touching the bare, sensitive skin of her pussy. She had never gone without underwear to work before, and the feeling of vulnerability was intense.

Mina parted her legs slightly, allowing him to see that she had indeed followed his order. His eyes darkened with approval, and she felt a strange mix of pride and shame. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

He tossed her a pair of vibrating underwear, the kind that had a slit for her pussy. "Put these on," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. She caught the underwear with trembling hands, her heart racing as she realized what he wanted her to do.

With shaky fingers, she slid the garment over her bare skin, the material clinging to her curves. She could feel the vibrator nestled in the slit, the buzzing a constant reminder of her submission. Y/n watched with a smug expression, enjoying the sight of her in the compromising position. "Now, go back to your desk," he said, his voice a low growl.

Mina nodded, stepping back into her heels. She made her way back to her cubicle, the vibrator pulsing with every step. She tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her, but it was useless. The sensation was too intense, too distracting. Her colleagues were oblivious to the torment she was enduring, their mundane chatter a stark contrast to the war raging inside her.

Her body was betraying her, the vibrator sending waves of pleasure through her core. She bit her lip to stifle the moans, her cheeks flushing as the first orgasm of the day ripped through her. It was like a storm she couldn't control, a silent scream trapped in her throat. Her eyes glazed over, and she had to grip the edge of her desk to keep from falling.

The climax left her breathless, her body trembling with the aftershocks. She tried to compose herself, but the vibrator didn't relent. It kept pulsing, demanding more from her. She knew she couldn't last the whole day like this, but she had no choice. She was his plaything now, and she had to follow his every command.

The hours passed like molasses, each second a battle between focusing on her work and the relentless buzzing between her legs. She found herself getting wetter, her pussy swollen and begging for relief. The anticipation was agonizing, a delicious torment that she couldn't escape.

When the next orgasm hit, it was like a surprise attack. Her body tensed, her toes curling in her heels as she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She hoped no one had noticed the subtle tremor that had passed through her, the way her hand had gripped the mouse so tightly. But she couldn't be sure.

The rest of the day was a blur of forced climaxes, her body a slave to the vibrator's whims. Each wave of pleasure brought a fresh wave of fear and arousal. She was living a double life, and the line between the two was blurring. By the time she was allowed to leave, she was a wreck, her nerves frayed and her pussy sore. But she knew she couldn't let it show, not when Alex was waiting for her at home.

As she pulled into the garage, she saw the notification on her phone. It was a video from Y/n, timestamped from the middle of the day. Her heart raced as she played it, the image of her own face, flushed and desperate, appearing on the screen. It was a recording from the office security camera, capturing the moment she had lost control in the throes of pleasure. Her mouth open in a silent moan, eyes squeezed shut, her hands desperately trying to keep herself from being heard.

The message that accompanied the video was a taunt, a declaration of his power. "Mina, remember," he had typed, his words a knife to her gut, "I put every camera on you in the office. Now, put this video on your OnlyFans with the title 'A slut craving for a big dick while at work.'" The reality of her situation hit her like a truck, her secret now in his hands, ready to be shared with the world.

With trembling fingers, she uploaded the video, the title a twisted jest that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew it would drive her viewers wild, the thought of her being watched while she worked, her desperation palpable. The comments began to flood in, each one more degrading than the last. But she couldn't bring herself to take it down. The money was too good, the thrill too intense.

The days turned into weeks, and Mina found herself caught in a cycle of submission and degradation. She continued to work, her OnlyFans account growing, her interactions with Y/n more intense with every encounter. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of desire and fear, her marriage hanging by a thread she didn't dare to pull. Her relationship with Alex grew more strained, their passion replaced by the cold, hard truth of their financial situation.

But every time she felt like she couldn't go on, she remembered the promise she had made to save her husband's business. And so, she endured, her body a battleground of pleasure and pain, her soul a tapestry of conflicting emotions. Each time she uploaded a new video, each time she felt the eyes of her anonymous fans upon her, she felt a strange sense of purpose, of power. She was more than just a wife now; she was a commodity, a source of income, and a woman who could survive anything.

The day the message came, she felt a strange mix of relief and dread. Her phone buzzed, and she saw the text from Y/n: "Our contract will end in 3 days. I want you to stay at my home until your contract ends." She knew what he was asking of her, and she also knew she had no choice but to agree. It was a final push, a chance to pay off their debts and end this twisted arrangement. But the thought of being so completely under his control, with no escape, was terrifying.

Mina took a deep breath, her heart racing as she replied, "Okay." The word felt like a weight on her chest, but she had come too far to back out now. She packed a small bag, her mind racing with what lay ahead. What would he make her do? How much more could she take? She tried to ignore the dark excitement that bubbled in her stomach, the thrill of the unknown.

When she arrived at his mansion, the gates loomed before her, a symbol of the prison she was about to enter. The house was as grand and intimidating as she remembered, a testament to his wealth and power. She stepped inside, her heels clicking on the marble floor, the sound echoing through the hollow halls. Y/n was waiting for her, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Welcome home, Mina," he said, a smug smile playing on his lips. The words sent a chill down her spine, but she forced a smile in return. "I've been looking forward to having you all to myself." His tone was one of ownership, a stark reminder of her fate. She swallowed hard, her body already responding to his presence.

"I will tell you right now," he began, his voice a deep rumble that sent tremors through her core, "that you will only be living in the red room for the next three days." The room she had come to know so well, the stage for their twisted games, was to become her prison. "You will eat, sleep, and breathe in that room. You will only leave when I command it."

Mina felt a cold hand of fear grip her heart, but she nodded in compliance. She knew what was expected of her, and she would see it through. The red room was her sanctuary of sin, a place where she could be someone else, do things she had never dreamed of doing. She had become addicted to the thrill of submission, the power dynamics that played out within those four walls.

As she stepped into the red room, she noticed that it had been transformed. The bed was adorned with silk scarves and leather cuffs, and the air was heavy with the scent of lust. Her eyes widened at the sight of the new toys laid out on the bedside table, each one more intimidating than the last. "You've been a good girl," he said, his eyes raking over her, "but now, it's time to push your boundaries even further."

Mina felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead as he approached her, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek. He guided her to a chair in the center of the room, one that she had never seen before. It was made of a sleek, black material, and it looked as if it had been designed with one purpose in mind: her submission. Her heart raced as he bound her wrists and ankles to the chair, the ropes biting into her skin, leaving her completely at his mercy.

He stepped back, admiring his handiwork, before he began his twisted game of tease. His fingers traced over her skin, skimming across her breasts, her stomach, and her thighs. Each touch sent a shiver through her body, her anticipation building to a fever pitch. The fabric over her eyes was tight, leaving her in darkness, heightening every sensation. "Please," she whimpered, her voice shaking with need. "I can't take it anymore. Give me your cock."

Y/n's chuckle was the only response she received. He continued his torturous exploration, his touch featherlight, driving her to the brink of madness. She could feel her pussy growing wetter with every stroke, her body begging for relief. "Please," she moaned, "please, I need it. I can't handle this."

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "You want this, don't you?" His voice was a seductive whisper, a promise of pleasure wrapped in the threat of pain. "Beg for it," he ordered, his hand moving to her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. "Beg like the whore you are."

Mina's body responded to his dominance, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend the situation. "Yes," she choked out, "I need it. I'm begging you, please give me your cock."

The fabric was ripped away from her eyes, and she stared up at him, his expression a mix of amusement and lust. He stepped back, his cock already hard and ready. He didn't waste any time, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor. His shirt followed, revealing his muscular chest and abs.

He approached her again, his cock in hand, stroking it slowly. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Look at what you've become." She couldn't help but watch, her eyes transfixed on the monstrous length of him. The fear and excitement melded into one, creating a potent cocktail that left her breathless.

He stepped closer, positioning himself between her spread legs. She could feel the head of his cock brushing against her, teasing her wetness. "Beg," he said again, his voice a low growl.

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I need you inside me."

With a sadistic smile, Y/n leaned down and untied the ropes around her ankles. She let out a sigh of relief, her legs feeling like jelly as she tried to stand. He took her hand and led her to the bed, the plush mattress a stark contrast to the cold, hard chair. Her body was a canvas of bruises and marks from their previous encounters, but she didn't protest as he laid her down, her back arching with the softness of the bed beneath her.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill of excitement and fear through her. Mina complied, her heart racing as she positioned herself on the bed, her ass in the air. The cool air of the room brushed against her wet pussy, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

He approached her, his hand coming down to rest on her lower back. "You've been a naughty girl," he murmured, his voice a dark promise of what was to come. She felt his finger probe at her entrance, slick with her desire. He pushed it in, hard and fast, making her gasp. His hand was rough, his movements unyielding, and she could feel herself stretching around him.

The second finger followed, and then the third, each thrust sending waves of painful pleasure through her. She moaned, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. "Yes," she heard him murmur, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That's it. Take it like the whore you are." His grip tightened on her hips, his fingers moving faster, harder. The pain grew, but so did her arousal.

He pulled his hand away, and she felt the head of his cock at her entrance, thick and demanding. "U like that whore?" he repeated, his voice taunting, pushing her buttons. She nodded, unable to form words. It was a question that didn't need an answer, a declaration of her new reality.

With one firm thrust, he filled her completely, his cock stretching her to her limits. Mina cried out, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming her senses. He paused, his cock buried deep inside her, and she felt his hand come down hard on her ass. "Who has the best cock?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper in the quiet room.

"My husband," she lied, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain her façade. The lie hung in the air, a stark reminder of the life she had left behind for this twisted world of debt and desire.

Y/n's hand swung down again, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the red room. "The truth," he demanded, his voice a low rumble of dominance. Mina gritted her teeth, the sting of his hand on her ass a stark reminder of her new reality.

"You," she finally admitted, the word slipping out in a rush of breath. "You have the best cock." His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh, and she felt a surge of arousal at the admission. It was the truth, no matter how much she didn't want to admit it.

"Scream it," he ordered, his voice harsh and demanding. His hand came down again, the slap resonating through the room. She bit back a whimper, her pussy clenching around his shaft. The pleasure was almost unbearable, the pain a strange complement to the feeling of his thickness inside her.

"You are the best, my husband's dick was a quarter of your size," she gasped, her voice strained with each thrust. "He can't reach what you do inside my pussy." The words were a declaration of her submission, a confession that sent a jolt of arousal through her body. She felt the head of his cock hit her cervix, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable.

Her body responded to his dominance, her pussy clenching and releasing around him, eager for more. Each slap on her ass brought a fresh wave of pleasure, a dark symphony of sensation that had her screaming his name. "Y/n, yes, yes," she chanted, her voice a litany of need and desperation.

Her orgasm was like a dam breaking, a flood of sensation that washed over her. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, the mix of pain and pleasure too much to hold back. "That's right," he groaned, his voice thick with his own desire. "You're mine now. You're nothing but a slut for my cock."

Mina's eyes rolled back in her head, her body writhing beneath him as she came. She had never felt so used, so utterly owned. And yet, she couldn't help but love it. The orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

He didn't stop, his strokes becoming more erratic, his breathing ragged. She could feel his cock swelling inside her, the promise of his release imminent. "Cum for me," he demanded, his voice a harsh growl. "I want to feel you milk my cock."

Her pussy clenched around him, her body responding to his words. The orgasm built again, a crescendo of pleasure that had her screaming. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he bit down, claiming her in the most primal way.

With a roar, he released inside her, filling her with his cum. She felt it spurt hot and thick, the sensation of his seed filling her making her orgasm all the more intense. Her body was a wreck, her pussy sore and her ass bruised, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

As he pulled out, she collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and exhausted. He leaned over her, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with possession. "And you will always come back for more."

Mina looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and pain. She knew it was true, that she would always come back for more of what he had to give her. Her life had changed irrevocably, and she was powerless to stop it. But as she lay there, the warmth of his cum inside her, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: alive.

The morning of the second day dawned, and Mina woke up with a start in the unfamiliar bed. Her body was sticky with sweat and cum, the scent of sex still lingering in the air. She tried to sit up, but her muscles protested, the evidence of the previous night's exertion clear. The sheets were tangled around her, a testament to the tumultuous night she had endured.

Her eyes searched the room, and she spotted a gleaming chain and a collar lying on the nightstand. The sight of them sent a shiver down her spine, her stomach flipping with a mix of dread and anticipation. Y/n had left them there as a reminder of their arrangement, a symbol of her servitude. She reached out, her hand trembling, and picked them up.

The chain was cold and heavy in her hand, the metal links glinting in the soft morning light. The collar was made of the same material, with a small, delicate lock at the back. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, a stark contrast to the stark reality of her situation. She knew what it meant: she was his, to use as he saw fit, until the end of their contract.

The door to the red room opened, and in strode Y/n, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of her. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his tie askew and his hair disheveled. "Good morning, my pet," he purred, his voice sending a thrill through her. "I trust you slept well."

Mina could only nod, her voice failing her. She felt his hand on her neck, the collar cool against her skin as he fastened it around her. The lock clicked into place, the sound final and irrevocable. He attached the chain to the collar, the other end in his hand. "Today," he began, "we're going to explore some new boundaries."

He led her out of the red room, the chain jingling softly with each step she took. They moved through the mansion, her eyes downcast, her body sore from the previous night's exertions. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft glow over the opulent surroundings. He took her to the back of the house, and she knew what was coming next.

The door to the expansive lawn swung open, revealing a lush carpet of dew-kissed grass. The morning air was crisp, the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass filling her nose. Y/n attached the leash to her collar and gave a firm tug, guiding her down the steps. "Walk," he ordered, his voice low and firm.

Mina obeyed, her legs shaking as she descended into the role he had chosen for her. The cold metal of the leash was a constant reminder of her subservience, the coolness of the metal against her skin sending shivers down her spine. The dew on the grass was like a caress, a stark contrast to the harshness of her situation.

The leash was short, forcing her to move on all fours as he walked beside her, his grip unyielding. She could feel the leather of the collar cutting into her neck, a constant reminder of her new status. She was his pet, his toy, and she would act accordingly.

The world outside the mansion was quiet, the only sounds the distant chirp of birds and the rustle of leaves. The cool breeze kissed her skin, raising goosebumps despite the warmth of the early morning. Each step was a battle against her pride, her body moving in a way that was both humiliating and exhilarating.

He led her around the lawn, her breasts swaying with each step, the cool air teasing her erect nipples. The leather of the collar was already growing warm from her skin, the metal of the leash cold in her palm. She felt the tension in her body, the fear of being caught mingling with the excitement of their secret.

Without warning, Y/n stopped and bent down, his hand slipping between her legs. He inserted the vibrator into her pussy, the buzzing sound filling the silence. She gasped, the sudden intrusion both painful and exhilarating. He didn't stop there, his fingers probing until he found her ass, slipping the second vibrator inside her tight hole. She whimpered, the feeling overwhelming as he turned both devices to their highest setting.

"Walk," he commanded, tugging on the leash. She stumbled forward, the vibrations setting her nerves on fire. The sensation was intense, the vibrations from the toys sending waves of pleasure through her body as she stumbled along the grass. The coolness of the dew on her hands and knees was a stark contrast to the heat building inside her.

Her pussy and ass were stretched wide by the vibrating intrusion, each step sending new jolts of pleasure through her. She felt the grass tickling her bare skin, the sensation a strange mix of pain and arousal. The early morning dew soaked into her, making her feel even more exposed, even more like a wild creature being tamed by its master.

They continued their perverse journey across the lawn, the vibrations growing more intense with each passing moment. Mina's eyes were wide with shock and arousal, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. She could feel her body growing wetter, her juices mixing with the coolness of the dew.

As they approached the edge of the lawn, Y/n paused again, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods. The early light painted the trees in shades of gold, the leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. He leaned in close, his breath hot in her ear. "You're going to cum for me, my pet," he whispered. "And when you do, I want you to scream my name."

The anticipation was unbearable, the vibrations reaching a crescendo as she felt her orgasm building. Her body tensed, her muscles tightening around the toys as she struggled not to scream. But she knew she couldn't hold out much longer, the pleasure too much to contain. And when it came, it was like a dam bursting, her body shuddering with the force of it.

The scream ripped from her throat, echoing through the quiet morning. She could feel the eyes of the forest upon her, watching her degradation. But she didn't care. In that moment, she was free, a creature of pure need and desire. And as she collapsed to the ground, panting and trembling, she knew she would always come back for more of what he had to give.

Y/n's hand tightened on the leash, his grip firm as he pulled her back to her feet. "Who is your master, Mina?" he repeated, his voice a dark thunder in the stillness.

Her eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze like a brand on her soul. "You are," she murmured, the words a declaration of her submission. The words were like a drug, a heady mix of fear and excitement that left her breathless.

They continued their perverse walk, the vibrations never relenting, her body a playground for his desires. The leather of the collar grew warm and sticky with her sweat, the chain a constant reminder of her captivity. Each step sent a new wave of pleasure through her, the vibrations from the toys in her pussy and ass creating a symphony of sensation that was impossible to ignore.

Mina's body was a battleground, her mind screaming for relief while her body craved more. Her pussy was a river of juices, soaking the leather of the collar, trailing down her stomach to pool on the grass beneath her. The sun had fully risen now, casting a golden light over the scene, turning their walk of shame into a macabre dance of submission.

The heat of the afternoon sun bore down on them, turning the dew to steam. Her body was a wreck, her muscles screaming with fatigue. Yet, she continued to follow him, driven by a force she didn't fully understand. The vibrations grew more intense with each step, the buzzing a constant reminder of her predicament. Her orgasms had become a blur, her cries of pleasure now mingling with whimpers of pain.

Y/n's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his grip on the leash unwavering. He led her to a small gazebo in the center of the garden, the ivy-covered structure offering a semblance of privacy. He paused, the leather of the leash taut between them. "You've done well, my pet," he said, his voice a purr of approval. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With a flick of his wrist, he attached the leash to a hook on the side of the gazebo. She was forced to stand, the vibrations from the toys inside her unrelenting. Her legs were shaking, her body trembling with the effort to remain upright. "Spread your legs," he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh surge of arousal through her.

Mina obeyed, her muscles protesting as she spread her legs. The vibrations grew more intense, the sensation like a thousand tiny hands caressing her swollen flesh. She could feel the eyes of the forest upon her, watching her most intimate moments. But she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the pleasure that Y/n brought her, the painful bliss that she had grown to crave.

He stepped back, his hand moving to his belt. With a slow, deliberate motion, he unbuckled it, the sound echoing through the gazebo. "You're going to scream my name again," he promised, his voice dark and seductive. "And this time, I want the whole world to hear it."

The leather strap came down hard across her ass, the pain making her gasp. The vibrations from the toys grew more intense, the sting of the belt sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. Her orgasm was building again, the tension coiling in her belly like a snake ready to strike.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. His hand caressed her cheek, the leather of the belt a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch. "You're going to love this," he murmured, the promise in his voice making her stomach flip.

He began to smack her body in a rhythm, the leather biting into her flesh with each strike. Her breasts bounced with each hit, the pain mixing with the pleasure from the vibrators. She could feel her body responding, her pussy growing wetter, her ass clenching around the toy inside her. The sound of leather on skin echoed through the gazebo, a testament to their twisted games.

Mina's cries grew louder, each smack pushing her closer to the edge. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body a tapestry of pain and pleasure. She was his, utterly and completely, and she reveled in the feeling of submission.

The leather met her skin again and again, each smack more punishing than the last. Her body was on fire, the pain a crescendo that built and built. And then, just as she thought she couldn't take any more, it stopped. The vibrations ceased, the world going silent.

Y/n stepped closer, his eyes boring into hers. "You're mine," he whispered, his breath hot and demanding. "And you will always be mine." The finality of his words sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of fear and excitement.

He unclipped the leash, his grip on the collar tight as he pulled her closer. "Now," he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "it's time to show the world who you truly are." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen glowing with the promise of a new audience for her degradation.

Mina's heart raced, her mind reeling with the implications of his words. What was he going to do? What would happen when the world saw her like this? The fear grew in her chest, a dark cloud threatening to swallow her whole.

He held the phone up, the camera focused on her tear-stained face. "Say it," he demanded. "Say you're my whore." Her voice was a broken whisper, the words sticking in her throat like shards of glass.

"I'm your whore," she choked out, the admission like a knife to her soul. He clicked a photo, the flash momentarily blinding her. The evidence of her degradation would now be etched into digital immortality, a secret that could be shared with the world at his whim.

The fear grew, a thick, choking presence in her chest. What would Alex think? What would their friends and family say? But even as the dread consumed her, she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought of being exposed.

Y/n's hand traveled down her body, his fingers finding her clit, the sensation making her gasp. "Good girl," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now, let's make some more content for your adoring fans." He turned the camera to record, the red light blinking ominously.

Mina felt the panic rise, her body trembling with the weight of her decision. But the fear was laced with excitement, a toxic cocktail that had her panting and begging for more. He began to flick her clit with the precision of a master craftsman, her body responding despite her inner turmoil.

Her cries grew louder as he worked her, his other hand reaching down to remove the toys from her pussy and ass. He tossed them aside, his cock already hard and waiting for her. "Take it," he ordered, pushing her down onto her knees. She opened her mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

The saltiness of his cock filled her mouth, the taste of their previous encounter still lingering. She took him deep, her throat constricting around his length. The camera rolled, capturing every moment of her degradation, every tear that fell from her eyes.

The vibrations started again, the toys in her hand now a part of the show. She brought them to her own pussy, her body responding with a desperate need for release. The sound of her moans and the slapping of his hand against her ass filled the gazebo, a symphony of submission for his enjoyment.

As he fucked her mouth, she worked the toys inside herself, her body a playground for his desires. She could feel her orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that she knew would consume her. And when it did, she screamed, the sound a mix of ecstasy and despair.

Y/n pulled out of her mouth, his cock glistening with her saliva. He grabbed the phone, filming himself as he painted her face with his cum, the hot liquid a brand of ownership. She closed her eyes, her body shuddering with the aftershocks of her climax.

"Now, let's go," he said, his voice a cold command. He tugged at the leash, pulling her to her feet. Her legs were shaky, her knees threatening to give out beneath her. The vibrating toys were still lodged deep inside her, the painful pleasure a constant reminder of her submission.

They began the long walk back to the mansion, her body trembling with each step. The leather of the collar and the metal of the leash were slick with her sweat and his cum, a testament to their depraved play. Each step sent a fresh wave of pain through her, her ass and pussy still throbbing from the belt and his relentless fucking.

"Can you take out the vibrator, Master?" she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. The pain had become unbearable, the pleasure a distant memory. Her body was a canvas of bruises and marks, a map of his dominance.

He chuckled darkly, his hand coming down hard on her ass. "How dare you ask for mercy?" he taunted. She whimpered, the sting of his hand making her eyes water. The vibrations grew more intense, the toys inside her a constant torment.

"Please," she sobbed, her body slick with sweat and cum. The leather of the collar was biting into her neck, the metal of the leash digging into her wrists. But he ignored her pleas, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he watched her suffer.

The mansion loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of the garden. Each step brought her closer to the reality of what she had become. A whore. His whore. The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, despite the pain.

As they approached the mansion, she could feel the vibrations growing stronger, the toys inside her a relentless tease. Her legs felt like they would buckle at any moment, her body a wreck of pleasure and pain. She knew what was waiting for her inside the red room, knew that her punishment was far from over.

Yet, she walked on, driven by a force beyond her control. The leather of the collar was a noose around her neck, the leash a chain that bound her to him. She was his, and she knew that she would always come back for more of his twisted games.

The mansion's doors swung open, the coolness of the air-conditioned interior a stark contrast to the heat outside. She stumbled through the entrance, her eyes downcast. The sound of the doors closing behind them was like the final nail in her coffin, sealing her fate.

He led her back to the red room, his grip on the leash unyielding. "On the bed," he ordered, his voice a harsh whisper.

Mina stumbled onto the bed, her body a trembling mess of need and pain. She went down on all fours, her eyes searching for his approval. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "Give me your dick, my master." The words tasted like sin on her lips, but she couldn't get enough.

He stepped closer, his cock hard and demanding. "Give to me that big fucking black cock," she pleaded, her voice thick with desire. She could feel the toys inside her, the vibrations now a taunting reminder of what she had lost. Her dignity, her self-respect, all of it replaced by an insatiable hunger for his touch.

Y/n's eyes flashed with amusement as he climbed onto the bed, his knees on either side of her. He grabbed her hips, his grip bruising. "You want it, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "You want me to pound you like the whore you are."

Mina nodded, her voice a desperate whimper. "Yes, master. Please pound me hard." She knew what was coming, knew that she would beg for mercy and he would give her none. But in that moment, she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling him inside her again, feeling that all-consuming pleasure that only he could give.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock slick with her juices and his own lust. "Beg for it," he said, his voice a dark command. "Beg me to fuck you."

Her eyes met his, filled with a mix of fear and arousal. "Please," she sobbed. "I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me." Her words were a confession, a declaration of her complete and utter surrender to his will.

Y/n smirked, the cruel glint in his eyes telling her he knew exactly what she was feeling. He pulled the vibrator out of her pussy, the sudden emptiness leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. But he left the one in her ass, the constant buzz a reminder of her submission. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock thick and throbbing.

With one swift movement, he plunged into her, the sensation making her scream. The vibrator in her ass continued to buzz, the sensation now amplified by the feeling of his cock filling her completely. Her body was a symphony of pleasure and pain, a fine line that she danced upon with each of his punishing strokes.

Mina felt his hands grip her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he began to pound her. Each thrust sent shockwaves of sensation through her body, the vibrations from the toy in her ass resonating with the impact of his cock. She could feel her orgasm building again, the tension coiling in her stomach like a serpent.

Her screams grew louder, her body moving with his rhythm, desperate for the release he had conditioned her to crave. He was her master, her god, the source of her pleasure and her pain. She was his to use, his to abuse, and she loved every second of it.

The room was filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the smell of sex heavy in the air. She could feel her pussy clenching around him, her body desperate for the release he had promised. "Please," she begged, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Let me cum, master."

He leaned over her, his breath hot on her neck. "You want it?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper. "You want to cum for me?" His grip tightened, his strokes growing more erratic. She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut, the world narrowing to the feeling of his cock inside her.

"Then cum," he ordered, his voice a low growl. And with that, she did. Her body convulsed, her pussy spasming around his length. She felt him swell, his cock pulsing with his own climax, and she knew that she had served her purpose once again.

As he pulled out, she collapsed onto the bed, her body spent. The vibrator in her ass was still going, the sensation now one of pain rather than pleasure. But she didn't dare ask for it to be removed. She knew her place now, knew that she was nothing but his whore to use and discard.

The chain of the collar jingled as he pulled her upright, the leather sticking to her sweat-slicked skin. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Mina couldn't speak, couldn't even think. Her body was a maelstrom of sensation, the vibrations from the toys a constant reminder of her submission. She watched through hooded eyes as he strolled over to the wall of BDSM toys, his eyes scanning the selection with the intensity of a hunter choosing its prey.

He selected a set of nipple clamps, the metal gleaming in the soft light of the room. She whimpered as he approached, the anticipation of pain making her pussy throb with need. He attached them to her swollen peaks, tightening them until she gasped. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low growl. She raised her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and desire.

The second night in the red room began with a fierce intensity that surpassed the first. He was an animal, his eyes wild with lust as he stared at her. She felt his hand come down on her ass, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing through the room. Each spank sent a jolt of pain through her body, the vibrator inside her a constant presence.

Her skin was on fire, each smack making her pussy wetter. She could feel his cock, thick and demanding, pressing against her thigh as he worked her over. The pain grew, the pleasure grew, until she could no longer tell where one began and the other ended.

With a snarl, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her onto her knees. "You want this?" he asked, his cock bobbing in front of her face. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and took him into her mouth, the taste of her own juices mixed with the saltiness of his pre-cum.

The vibrations grew stronger, the toy in her ass a constant torment. She moaned around his length, her eyes watering with the effort. His hand tangled in her hair, holding her in place as he began to fuck her mouth with the same ferocity he had her pussy.

The room was a blur, the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of his cock in her mouth, the sound of his grunts of pleasure. The vibrations grew more intense, the pain and pleasure swirling together until she could no longer tell them apart.

He pulled her head back, his cock popping out of her mouth with a wet sound. "You're mine," he said, his voice a dark whisper. "Say it."

Mina could barely breathe, but she managed to gasp out, "I'm yours, Master." The words were a declaration, a promise that she would submit to his every whim, no matter how twisted or depraved.

He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. "Prove it," he whispered. "Prove to me that you're mine." His hand left her hair, instead reaching for the vibrator still buried in her ass. He cranked it up to the maximum setting, the buzzing so loud it was almost deafening.

Her body convulsed, her eyes rolling back in her head. The pain was exquisite, the pleasure unbearable. Her pussy was a river, the scent of her arousal filling the room. He took his cock in hand, stroking it as he watched her squirm.

"Look at me," he demanded again, his voice a harsh command. She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze as he stroked himself. The vibrations grew stronger, the pain in her ass now a crescendo of agony.

And then, with a roar, he came, painting her face with his cum. She could feel the hot liquid on her cheeks, her eyes, her nose. The taste of him filled her mouth, mixing with the metallic taste of her own blood. But she didn't flinch, didn't look away. She was his, completely and utterly.

The vibrations stopped, the silence deafening in their intensity. He pulled the toy out of her ass, the sudden absence of pain making her gasp. He threw it aside, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now," he said, his voice calm once more, "we begin."

He unclipped the leash, the metal clanking against the floor. "Clean yourself up," he ordered. She stumbled to the bathroom, her legs shaky from the abuse. The mirror showed a reflection she barely recognized: a woman covered in cum and bruises, a woman who had given herself completely to a monster.

But as she cleaned herself, the pain slowly ebbing away, she felt a strange sense of pride. She had survived the first two days, and she would survive the last one. For Alex, for their future, she would endure whatever Y/n had planned.

The sun had set by the time she emerged from the bathroom, the room cast in shadows that danced with the candles' flickering light. She knew the third and final night would be the most intense, a crescendo to the symphony of submission she had been playing.

Mina lay on the bed, her body a canvas of bruises and marks, each one a testament to her submission. She closed her eyes, willing herself to rest, to regain the strength she would need for the night ahead. Despite the pain, she slept deeply, her dreams filled with images of Y/n's dominance, her mind reeling from the tumult of emotions that plagued her.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of the door opening, the scent of his cologne filling the room. She sat up, her eyes heavy with fatigue, her body aching for his touch. The red glow of the room washed over her, the candles casting an eerie light that painted the room in a bloody hue.

Y/n walked in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat from his day's exertions. She watched as he removed his tie, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You've been asleep for quite some time," he said, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down her spine. "I've missed my little whore." He strode over to the bed, his hand reaching out to trace the bruises on her thigh. She flinched at his touch, the pain a stark reminder of her place in his world.

"Please, master," she whispered, her voice a hoarse plea. "I need you." The words were a confession, a declaration of her need for his dominance.

He smirked, his hand sliding up to cup her pussy. She was already wet, her body betraying her. "You're eager, aren't you?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper. "Eager for more of my cock."

Mina nodded, her eyes never leaving his. She was his, completely and utterly. The last shreds of her pride had been stripped away, leaving only a desperate craving for the pleasure he could give her.

He leaned in, his mouth claiming hers in a brutal kiss that left her breathless. His tongue invaded her, tasting her, claiming her. She moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite the exhaustion.

When he pulled away, she was left gasping for air. "Tonight," he murmured against her lips, "you will truly understand what it means to be mine."

Y/n's eyes were wild with a feral hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. He grabbed the chain attached to her collar, pulling her off the bed. She stumbled after him, her legs still weak from the previous nights of abuse. He led her to the center of the room, the floor cold and unforgiving beneath her bare feet.

"On your knees," he ordered, his voice a low growl. Mina obeyed, her knees hitting the floor with a painful thud. She watched as he approached, his cock thick and erect, the head glistening with precum. The anticipation was unbearable, her body already quivering with need.

He grabbed the two vibrators from the bedside table, his eyes never leaving hers. "You've been a very bad girl," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You need to be punished."

Mina felt the coolness of the first vibrator as he pushed it into her ass, the sensation making her whimper. He didn't stop there, instead pushing the second one in alongside it, stretching her beyond what she thought was possible. The pain was a living entity, consuming her, becoming her. She felt her pussy clench in response, her body betraying her with its need.

With a cruel smile, he turned the vibrators on, the buzzing a harsh intrusion in the quiet room. Her scream filled the air, echoing off the walls. The sensation was overwhelming, the pain and pleasure a tornado that she couldn't escape. She felt him behind her, his hands on her hips, his cock pressing against her slick entrance.

He didn't bother with preliminaries, instead slamming into her with a brutal force that made her eyes water. She could feel the vibrators moving inside her, the sensation a symphony of agony and ecstasy. Her screams grew louder with each thrust, the vibrations setting her nerves on fire.

The world outside the red room ceased to exist, the only reality the feel of him fucking her, the buzz of the vibrators in her ass, the pain of his grip on her hips. She was lost in the maelstrom of sensation, her mind a blank canvas of submission.

He fucked her like he owned her, and she knew he did. Each thrust was a claim, a declaration of his dominance. She could feel her orgasm building, a pressure that grew with each plunge of his cock. "Scream for me," he demanded, his voice a thunder in her ears.

And scream she did, the sound tearing from her throat like a wild animal. Her body convulsed around him, her pussy spasming with the force of her climax. Yet, he didn't stop, didn't give her a moment's reprieve. He continued to pound into her, the vibrations from the toys driving her over the edge again and again.

Her cries grew more desperate, her body a wreck of pleasure. She didn't know if she could take anymore, didn't know if she wanted to. Yet, she begged for more, her voice a broken plea. He was her master, and she would endure whatever he had planned for her, for Alex, for their future.

Y/n's hand kept slapping her ass, each smack a brand that marked her as his. The vibrations from the toys were relentless, the pain morphing into something else entirely. Something that made her body quiver and arch back towards him, eager for more. Her orgasms were like a series of explosions, each one more intense than the last.

His grip on her hips tightened, his strokes growing more frenzied. She could feel him getting closer, his breath hot and ragged against her neck. "MINE," he roared, his voice a declaration of ownership that sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. Her pussy clenched around his cock, her body betraying her with its need for his release.

Y/n pulled out, the sound of her body's protest a symphony in the quiet room. He spun her around, her legs giving out beneath her. He caught her, his arms like steel bands around her waist. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with lust, her mouth open in a silent plea.

He didn't speak, his actions speaking louder than any words could. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. His cock slammed into her pussy again, the angle hitting her g-spot with a precision that had her seeing stars. The vibrations in her ass grew stronger, the pain a beautiful agony that had her panting.

Mina's head fell back, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her body was his plaything, a toy for his pleasure. He fucked her mercilessly, his thrusts punctuated by the smack of his hand against her ass. Each hit sent her spiraling closer to the edge, the pain and pleasure coalescing into something dark and beautiful.

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he came. The vibrations grew even stronger, the sensation too much to bear. She felt the warmth of his cum fill her ass, the pressure unbearable. She clenched around the toys, her orgasm ripping through her like a tornado.

Her vision swam, the room spinning. She could feel herself slipping away, the edges of consciousness a distant memory. But even as the darkness claimed her, she felt his hand on her throat, his grip firm but not painful. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low growl.

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze. He leaned in, his cock still hard, his eyes burning with a fierce hunger. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "Always and forever." And with that, he thrust into her mouth, his cum spilling down her throat in hot, salty spurts. She gagged, her throat tight around his length, but she didn't fight him.

As he pulled out, she felt her body give out. Her legs went limp, her arms sliding down his body. The world went black, the only sound the ringing in her ears. The last thing she felt was his hand on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek with a tenderness that was at odds with the brutality of their encounter.

And then there was nothing.

Mina's world went dark, her body a crumpled mess in the arms of the man who had just claimed her so thoroughly. She felt weightless, floating in a sea of pleasure and pain.

Y/n carefully laid her on the bench in the center of the red room, her legs still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. Her mouth hung open, cum and saliva pooling on her chin, a testament to her complete submission. Her pussy was still wide, stretched from his brutal use, a slick mess of arousal and his seed. Her body was a canvas of red, the imprints of his handiwork a stark contrast against her pale skin.

While she remained unconscious, Y/n moved with a purposeful grace, his eyes never leaving Mina's limp form. He selected a length of rope from the wall of toys, his calloused fingers running along the coarse fibers. The scent of leather and sweat filled the air as he approached, a silent promise of what was to come.

He began by securing her wrists to the chair, his movements methodical and precise. Each loop of rope was tightened with a firm tug, ensuring she would be unable to move. Her arms were stretched taut, her breasts heaving with each shallow breath she took. Despite the pain that would surely follow, there was a strange beauty in her vulnerability, her submission laid bare for his enjoyment.

Y/n picked up a marker, the black ink gleaming under the candlelight. He bent over her, the tip of the marker tracing the word "slut" in an elegant script across her chest. She flinched at the cold touch of the plastic, the harsh reality of her situation sinking in deeper. With each stroke, he claimed her, branding her as his own. He moved lower, writing "Whore" across her stomach in bold letters. The words stung, but the pain was a strange kind of pleasure, a reminder of her place in this twisted game of power and control.

Next, he marked her thighs, scribbling "Y/n pet" and "BBC slut" with a sadistic smile. Each word was a brand, a declaration of ownership that sent a shiver down her spine. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes lingering on the words as if they were a sacred incantation that bound her to him for all eternity.

Mina's eyes fluttered open, the pain from the rope burns bringing her back to reality. Y/n's eyes gleamed with excitement as he took in her wide-eyed terror. "Good," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "You're awake for the grand finale."

He stepped away, his eyes scanning the room before landing on a duffle bag in the corner. He pulled out two vibrators, the size of them making Mina's heart race. They were longer, thicker, and more intimidating than anything she had ever seen. "Time to see if you can handle two," he said, his voice filled with a twisted sense of amusement.

Mina felt the coolness of the first vibrator as he pushed it into her already sore pussy. She bit her lip to stifle a scream, her eyes watering with the pain of the intrusion. He didn't stop, instead pushing the second one in alongside it. The feeling was overwhelming, a stretch that made her feel like she was being split in two.

Y/n's fingers danced over the buttons, the vibrations starting slow, almost gentle. She panted, her body trying to adjust to the new sensation. But he wasn't satisfied with gentle, not tonight. The vibrations grew stronger, the two toys moving in unison, a symphony of pain and pleasure that had her writhing in the chair.

Her mind was a whirlwind, unable to focus on anything but the relentless buzzing inside her. Time lost all meaning, the only constant the steady beat of the vibrators and the pain that grew with each passing moment. She was his, utterly and completely, and she knew it. The pain was a reminder, a brand that seared itself into her very soul.

As dawn approached, the red room grew lighter, the candles flickering out one by one. Y/n watched her, his expression unreadable. He didn't speak, didn't move. He was a silent sentinel, a god of lust and punishment, watching her dance on the edge of sanity.

When the sun fully rose, he finally approached her. His hands were firm as he turned off the vibrators, the sudden absence of noise and sensation leaving her feeling empty. He pulled them out with a slow, deliberate movement that had her gasping for breath. She felt the warmth of his cum inside her, a final reminder of her submission.

"Let's go," he said, his voice a harsh command that brought her back to reality. He fastened a leather collar around her neck, the metal tag jingling against the collarbone chain. She could feel the weight of his ownership, a constant reminder of her role in this twisted arrangement.

Mina's body was a wreck, her muscles screaming for relief. Yet, she managed to stand, her legs shaking with the effort. Y/n's hand was a vise around her arm, keeping her upright as he led her from the room. The cold morning air hit her skin like a slap, her bruises and welts standing out in stark relief.

He didn't speak as they walked through the mansion, his grip on her unyielding. She felt like a ragdoll in his grasp, used and discarded. But there was something else there too, a strange sense of pride that she had survived the final night.

As they reached the front door, she saw her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a stranger, a creature of need and desire, of pain and pleasure. But she knew it was her, the woman she had become.

Y/n opened the door, the bright light of the outside world blinding her. "Let me take you to your husband," he said, his voice a dark promise. She had no idea what awaited her at home, but she knew she would face it with the knowledge of what she had become for their future.

The drive to her house was a blur, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the steady throb of the collar around her neck. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, too ashamed of what she had done. But she knew she had no choice, not if she wanted to save Alex's business.

When they pulled into the driveway, the sight of her husband standing at the door was like a punch to the gut. He was dressed in his usual business casual attire, looking every inch the successful entrepreneur. But the moment he saw her, his eyes widened in horror. "What happened to you, Mina?" he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n's grip on her arm tightened, his chuckle low and menacing. He stepped out of the car, pulling her along behind him. "Let me show you," he said, his eyes gleaming with a twisted pride. He pushed her towards Alex, her legs stumbling under the weight of her own humiliation.

Alex's face paled as he took in her bruised and marked body. The cum that still clung to her skin, the vibrator that poked out from her swollen pussy, the leather collar that branded her a whore. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, the reality of her degradation too much to bear. "What have you done?" he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Y/n leaned in close, his breath hot in her ear. "This is what I've made of her," he whispered, his voice a dark caress. "Your little whore, my little plaything." His hand trailed down her side, his fingers tracing the words he had etched onto her skin. "See how she's marked, Alex. She's mine now, in every way that counts."

Alex stared at her, his eyes filled with a mix of horror and anger. "Why?" he demanded, his voice shaking with emotion. "Why did you do this?"

Mina looked at her husband, the love of her life, and felt a fresh wave of guilt. "For us," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For our future."

Y/n laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the quiet suburban street. "Don't be so dramatic," he said, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "It's just a bit of fun, isn't it, Mina?"

Alex's hand clenched into a fist, but he didn't move. He couldn't tear his gaze from the woman he once knew, the woman who now bore the marks of her submission to this monster. "Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Mina's eyes searched his, desperation in her gaze. "It's what we need," she replied, her voice firm despite the tremble in her chest.

Y/n's grip tightened, a silent warning. "Look at her, Alex," he said, his voice a purr. "Look at how she craves this. How she loves being my whore."

Alex's eyes fell to her body, to the words etched in black ink, the evidence of her submission. He felt his stomach churn, bile rising in his throat. "I can't," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I can't do this."

But Mina's gaze was unwavering. "You have to," she said, her voice steady. "For us."

The finality in her tone was like a slap. Alex knew he had no choice but to accept this new reality, to accept what she had become. And as Y/n led her into the house, his hand a brand on her arm, Alex followed, his heart heavy with despair.

The scene inside was one of quiet tension, the air thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Mina's body was a canvas of Y/n's ownership, the words etched into her skin a stark reminder of her fate. Alex could only watch, tears streaming down his face, as Y/n proudly displayed her, his laughter a chilling soundtrack to their shattered marriage.

Y/n pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up the room. "Let's get a picture," he said, his voice full of amusement. "For the memories." He snapped a photo of Mina, the collar around her neck, the words "slut" and "Whore" clearly visible. Alex felt his world crumble around him, the reality of what she had become too much to bear.

Mina's eyes never left her husband's, her gaze filled with a mix of apology and defiance. She knew what this was doing to him, but she also knew that it was for their future. The pain of her submission was a price she was willing to pay.

As Y/n's laughter echoed through the house, Alex's mind raced. He had to find a way to save Mina, to save their marriage. But as he looked at her, the marks of her degradation stark against her skin, he wondered if it was already too late.

The tension grew palpable as Y/n's hand slid down Mina's body, his fingers lingering on her bruised skin. Alex's fists clenched, his anger boiling over. "Get out," he growled, his voice filled with a rage he had never felt before. "Get out of my house, and never come back."

Y/n's smile didn't falter. "As you wish," he said, his tone mocking. "But remember, she's still mine." He leaned in, his breath hot against Mina's ear. "And she always will be." With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving Alex to deal with the wreckage of their lives.

Mina looked at her husband, her heart breaking. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm so sorry."

Alex didn't respond, his eyes unable to meet hers. He couldn't process what he was feeling, the betrayal too deep to voice.

The silence was deafening as they stood there, the house a prison of pain and regret. They both knew their lives would never be the same again. The bond they had once shared had been irrevocably changed by the red room and the monster that owned her body.

And yet, as she saw the tears in her husband's eyes, Mina felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way back from this darkness. Maybe they could find a way to heal, to forgive, to move forward together.

But for now, she could only stand there, naked and trembling, her body a map of her submission, and wait for his next move. The future was uncertain, but she knew she had made her choice.

For better or worse, she was Y/n's whore, and she would do whatever it took to keep the man she loved.

[sabertoothwalrus]

your character designs are incredible! do you keep anything/any thought processes in mind as you draw fanart vs how you draw ocs?

OOOOOO what a fun question...

I'd say my general thought process about how to build a new character-- figuring out who they are and what they do and what they're like-- is all pretty much the same across the board. The main difference between designing fan characters vs original characters is how I answer those sorts of questions.

For original characters, it can be almost overwhelming because I get to choose everything. I can make everything perfectly suited to my own tastes, except I have a broad range of things I like, and my tastes change constantly FJHFHD so depending on the project, choosing a more specific direction helps narrow things down.

Here's some old ocs I redrew recently. They're from an old story I'm not planning on revisiting, but it was about an art student, her little brother, and some grim reapers. Can you tell who is who?

I wanted the alive characters to have a lot of Opposites from the reapers. Warm vs Cool colors. Round vs Angular shapes. I wanted the reapers to look skeletal and sickly looking, and it was important that they all had some kind of hood. They needed to wear black & grey, but their colors still needed to be interesting, so they're all tinted with a color (one is sort-of blue, one is sort-of red, one is sort-of purple).

The story is more serious, so it felt appropriate that the characters were more realistically proportioned compared to some of the cartoonier designs I tend to do. They're still heavily stylized, and I tried to push myself to go harder on the shape language and Appeal™.

For fan characters, it's actually a lot of fun because so much of the work has been done for you. The more source material you have to work with, the less you have to come up with.

So, an example I'm going to use is Hugh Dini, a character I came up with as part of a fan concept for a new entry in the Ace Attorney series.

Phoenix Wright's daughter, Trucy, is a magician. She was 17 in her last appearance, and my fan concept takes place 7 years later, so she'd be 24. I decided she'd have a boyfriend who is also her assistant, and went from there.

I knew Hugh was going to be a defendant, which according to Ace Attorney rules means that he'd be falsely accused of murder. I needed to create a guy who was sympathetic, someone that you'd WANT to help prove his innocence.

What I did was reference existing characters from the games who fit similar archetypes and took a lot of design cues from them. I also referenced characters like Fukuo from Kiki's Delivery Service, who is a delightful himbo wifeguy that looks a little intimidating but is actually just kinda shy. And then I looked at actual photos of stage magician costumes for additional inspiration. THEN I go back to the source material to compare design details I want to add (ex, Hugh's high collar, his cuffs, the collar, the cape being turned into fringe on his jacket) and see if it already exists somewhere. No point in reinventing the wheel if I don't need to!

I wanted him to be like a "sexy magician's assistant", which I thought was a funny contrast to his restrained demeanor. He needed to be flashy, but not TOO flashy that he'd upstage Trucy. And additionally, since this is a game series where the characters are mostly seen from the waist up, I tried to keep his most interesting details in the top half of his design (but honestly in hindsight, I could have given him more. like Zak Gramarye's thigh-strap belt bag, perhaps).

Some other things I like to do when creating fan designs is to "roleplay" being the designers of the source material. If concept art is available, I reference that. I like to find the design quirks the character designers favor, and use them to make my own designs more convincing. If I'm designing something for, say, a european tv show that came out in 2005, I'd refer to the fashion and design tendencies that were most prevalent in the culture then, because that's what the actual character designers would have been most inspired by. But I'm not perfect, I'm gonna have the biases of an american lesbian living in 2025 no matter how hard I try LMAO

Hopefully I was able to answer your question!

[yungistiny]

camgirl ═ chapter two

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter two: spike

╚═════════

summary: mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

warning: emo mingi, stoner mingi, switch mingi, switch reader, mingi is hung, creampie, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, masturbation, rough sex, degradation, size kink, spitting, deep throating

pairing: mingi x afab/reader

genre: smut, angst, drama, romance

word count: 3.5K

chapter one

chapter three

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Mingi was sat in the cushioned and actually really fucking comfortable pink computer chair as y/n grabbed everything she needed for this particular livestream. His eyes never left her, taking in the toys she sat on her bed, the two white towels she went and grabbed from the bathroom.

He never looked away from her until his phone alerted him of a new message. Mingi was tempted to ignore it but grabbed his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and rolling his eyes at the name that stared back at him.

woo: are you with y/n??

mangi: I’m gonna kill you

woo: please you love me right now

mangi: 🖕

woo: 😣

woo: I got a bet with y/n on how long you’ll last 😌

mangi: how much?

woo: just $100

woo: she thinks you won’t make it before the first orgasm but I bet her you’ll go all the way hard and all 🫡

Mingi looked back at y/n as she pulled her thick pink comforter blanket off the bed, folding it and placing it on small pink cushioned stool she moved from the end of her bed to the side.

She thought he wouldn’t last?

Y/N turned around, why was she suddenly nervous under Mingi’s gaze? She’s literally had thousands of strangers watch her get herself off but the dark heat in her new cameraman’s eyes flustered her. “You ready?”

Mingi removed his glasses, sitting them on her desk behind him as he stood, grabbing the camera back up and turning it on. He connected to the streaming site she had showed him, ready to go live on her signal with already over 300 viewers waiting for it to start.

“When I give you this signal,” y/n gave him a come here movement with her index finger, the almond shaped black nail, a stark contrast to the pink, much like Mingi himself, very tempting. “zoom in, or if I use my middle finger that way, change the angle a bit.”

Mingi darted his pierced tongue out, distracting y/n a brief moment as he wetted his lips. “Got it.” His voice was almost unrecognizable from how deep it had gotten and y/n had to pretend like it wasn’t him the cause of the arousal slick wetting her underwear.

“Just a second..” She sat atop her bed, legs crisscrossed and Mingi briefly caught the glimpse of the wetness soaking through her pink Calvin Kleins. He bit his lip to keep from smirking. “Ok, start it.” Y/N looked so innocent with her hands placed in her lap and all the pink and fuck Mingi wanted to ruin her and he didn’t care how many watched.

The second they went live, Mingi had to get a hold of himself because he knows she was looking into the camera but the smirk she sent directly towards it, towards him, he could already feel his dick twitch.

He watched her read comments that viewers were leaving from the stream on her phone, she did that for a few minutes before sitting the phone down and pulling herself up onto her knees.

Mingi followed her movements, zooming in as she reached for the pink silicon dildo she had decided to get out for this stream. It wasn’t big but it also wasn’t too small and he briefly wondered if she could take him? One thing Mingi would always be cocky about is having a big dick.

And he was certainly bigger than the dildos and vibrators he’d seen in her cabinet.

Mingi glanced back towards the computer monitor where the livestream was also being displayed, the views already growing over a thousand quickly, the chat and comments section spammed by all the horny anonymous fans and viewers.

“I feel like today you all deserve to be teased.” Her voice was so dominant when she said it, so sultry and hot that Mingi knew this was gonna be a difficult situation to keep his cool. Though he had no control over his dick getting hard. “I have a new cameraman….” Her lustfull gaze stared right at him, smirk growing as the viewers spammed even more comments at the mention of Mingi being there too. “and I want to see how long he can last.”

Fuck. Mingi clenched his jaw and followed her with the camera as she slowly removed her shirt, a pink lace bra kept her breast hidden still but Mingi was already hard as hell and he didn’t care if she noticed the prominent bulge in his baggy jeans or not.

Y/N reached for the small pink vibrator, something she always used during her streams, it connecting with the streaming site so viewers who paid a little extra could control the settings however they wanted. She held it by the long little tail, never breaking eye contact with Mingi. “What do you all think…” she bit her lip, looking directly into the camera. “should I play with him?” She giggled, feigning innocence. “Maybe next time?”

Next time? What the fuck did she mean play with him? Mingi watched her pull her Calvin Kleins off, feeling as if he were being tortured as she gave him the signal to zoom into her naked, bare, soaking wet cunt. He had to bite back a deep moan at the sight of her leaning back, spreading her legs open and pushing the small pink vibrator inside of her, the little pink tail the only part left visible.

It took everything in him for Mingi to not just join her in the livestream right then and there at the sound of the moan that left her.

“Spike..” it took Mingi a long moment to realize y/n was talking to him, masking his real name with a false one that had him curious as to why Spike? He didn’t speak, looking at her with an arched brow. “Get on your knees.”

What? Mingi furrowed his brows together as y/n gave him a commanding stare. “Now.”

Fuck.

Did she act like this with the others? Did she do this to Wooyoung? Mingi steadied the camera, kneeling to one knee first then the other, never breaking eye contact with y/n as he went. “Come here.” She gave him that come here movement with her finger but it was certainly not a signal to zoom in.

Mingi slid across the carpeted floor, his jeans snagging slightly before he stopped right directly in front of y/n at the foot of her bed.

“Do you want to help me?” She held a teasing tone but her question was meant to ask for his consent and Mingi was nodding so quickly he almost gave himself a head rush.

Mingi was sure this wasn’t part of the actual job but shit, at this point he’d work for free. “Show me your hand.” Y/N bit her lip as he held up his free hand to her, his right hand that had a chunky metal ring on the index, middle finger and thumb. And fuck they were long.

“Go ahead,” She smiled sweetly down at him and Mingi was so hard, almost achingly so, as he glanced down towards her aching cunt right in front of him. “while I see what our viewers are saying.” Y/N picked her phone up to start scrolling and occasionally reading out comments.

Mingi looked at the camera in his other hand and frowned for a second before reaching his long arm out to place the camera on top of the blanket on the little cushioned pink stool.

“Fuck…” Y/N gasped, eyes wide as Mingi dived in, tongue already flat against her clit, his piercing a new sensation she had never experienced before as it added an extra little tickling sensation that was causing that familiar tightness and heat to pool in her lower abdomen.

Mingi didn’t give a shit who saw him. Who was witnessing him eat her like a starved man. Because it was him having her suddenly a moaning mess. He was practically growling into her as he tasted everything he could. And fuck he was already becoming completely pussy drunk.

Y/N threaded a hand into his hair, grinding herself against him, the camera angled just perfectly on them. The views grew, the comments spammed madly, all demanding more of Spike.

“Mi…. Spike…” y/n felt her legs wrap around him, shaking slightly as he sucked her clit into his mouth, reaching a hand up as multiple donations came through sending the little pink vibrator on a constant high as Mingi grasped the tail, thrusting it into her deeper, pulling it back out only to do it again.

“I’m… fuck…” y/n couldn’t even form anything remotely coherent, her walls clenching around the vibrator and an actual scream leaving her, mumbling into a whimpering moan as she came the second Mingi thrusted the vibrator against her g spot.

Mingi pulled his head back, smirking when he snatched the vibrator from her, y/n gripping his hair hard as she rode out her orgasm.

But he wasn’t done and y/n certainly wasn’t reading comments as Mingi stood up, flipping her over and pulling her up against him, back to his chest as Mingi lifted her, facing them directly towards the camera.

Mingi kept most his face hidden in the crook of her neck, one sharp eye gazing into the camera as he spoke. “I’m not done helping you yet.”

Y/N knew fucked dumb already because the livestream was the last thing on her mind when Mingi’s arm wrapped around her and his hand cupped her before sinking two of his long thick fingers into her, curving them and poking at that spongey spot that had her moaning again, head thrown back against his chest and whimpering when she felt his thumb start rubbing at her slightly overstimulated clit.

Was she fucking crying? She knew she was being loud because she could hear herself though it sounded as if she were hearing under water.

And then she was coming again, definitely whimpering and crying from the high of it as Mingi fucked her through it with his fingers. Y/N gripping at his arm wrapped around her, nails digging into him as she shook and started squirting on her carpeted floor and all over Mingi’s hand, some of it even spraying the camera lens.

And now she owed Wooyoung money but she didn’t care because it had been a while since anyone else made her come and having Mingi have her like that in front of who knows how many viewers had y/n on an adrenaline high.

She’d never had anyone else with her like that during a stream. Y/N didn’t really think Mingi would do anything when she teased him but now she could kiss Wooyoung for sending him to her.

Mingi waited until she relaxed in his hold, sitting her back down on the edge of her bed as he walked over to pick the camera back up, sucking his fingers clean and snatching one of the towels y/n had gotten in case of a mess to wipe the lens off.

Y/N looked into the camera, the stream letting everyone see her dazed and fucked out expression and Mingi was smirking, his tongue poking out as he waited for her to continue.

He looked back at the computer and his eyes widened at the views. Over 5000 and counting. 5000 people just watched him make a mess of y/n and he briefly wondered if anyone he knew was watching too….

Y/N reached for her forgotten phone where it lay beside the little pink vibrator Mingi pulled out of her.

The views were a new high for her, the comments begging for more of Mingi, or Spike. Donations were plenty and y/n knew then that Mingi was about to become a permanent fixture in her streams.

Mingi was surprised and shockingly a little disappointed when y/n ended the stream after promising everyone that Spike would be back.

“Well,” Y/N grabbed one of the towels wiping herself dry before pulling her Calvin Kleins back on, followed by her shirt. “they love you.”

Mingi sat the camera back on the desk, grabbing his glasses. “I didn’t like….” He pushed the black rimmed frames back up the bridge of his nose. “overstep anything, did I?” He had certainly got blindsided by lust for a moment.

“No.” Y/N was swiping away at her phone, pulling up her contacts. “Took me off guard a little though.” She smiled at him and Mingi felt his heart flutter. What the fuck was that?

“What’s your number?”

They exchanged numbers and y/n also sent him his payment to his account.

“I’m doing another stream Friday,” Mingi followed behind her back downstairs, the city life now dark out. “same time, get here a little early though.” Y/N watched him slip his combat boots back on.

“Also….” She bit her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth. “what do you think about a blowjob next time?” Her gaze lingered down to the prominent bulge in his jeans.

Her question had Mingi freeze with his hand on the doorknob. “What?” She wanted to give him head? She wanted to take him right in front of everyone? “You sure you want everyone to see how much of a mess I’ll make you?”

Mingi grinned at her, opening the door, biting back a smirk at the way y/n stood speechless behind him.

“See you Friday.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

It was getting colder out, his long sleeved shirt not doing much for Mingi against the chilly night wind as he stared down at the atm receipt in his hand.

With the money his mom sent him and what he had just made from helping y/n, 1.2 million won sat in his account. Mingi grinned, the broody and moping mood he had been in now gone. He sent his mom back the money she had given him earlier that day and went to his weed man’s contact.

Johnny Suh had been Mingi’s dealer since freshman year of college. He lived only a couple of blocks from Mingi’s own apartment building. He had just gotten back to his side of the city after leaving y/n and really needed a blunt. He had smoked all his stash earlier.

Johnny let the call ring four times before he answered it. “Well, well, well…” he sounded amused, a bit teasing. “I’m assuming you’re coming over? How much?”

Mingi told him what he needed, ending the call and shoved his phone into his pocket and starting the walk over, just passing the convenience store Wooyoung worked at, gasping when someone snatched him pulling him inside.

“What the fuck?” Mingi glared at Wooyoung as he turned the stores open sign off, staring at Mingi in shock. “I should be asking you that!”

Wooyoung was grinning crazy at him, giggling. “That was the best stream y/n has ever done!”

“You watched it?” Mingi shoved Wooyoung off of him. “Of course I did! I had to make sure I won the bet.” He smirked at Mingi, loving the fact he had been right. He knew if there was one person that could match y/n freak, it would certainly be Song Mingi.

“You were the one that said I’d be perfect for the job.” Mingi was giving him that crooked grin of his, Wooyoung eyeing his hand as Mingi fixed his glasses. The same hand and fingers that deliciously had y/n fucked out only a little time ago.

“Are you going back?” Wooyoung saw the way y/n gaze had watched Mingi in the stream, saw the want and need in her eyes. “Friday.” Mingi answered, moving past Wooyoung to grab some munchie food for later while he was there.

“Y/N never let anyone join her before like that.” Wooyoung followed him around the store as Mingi picked up numerous ramen, some chips and a few sodas. “She usually puts a rule down beforehand.”

Mingi dropped all his stuff down on the counter, Wooyoung going back behind it to ring everything up. “Not once?” Now Mingi was curious, why was he the exception?

“Nope.” Wooyoung smirked as Mingi pulled his phone back out to tap to pay. “Well, I still have a hard on and I need to go pick up my weed…” it was true too. His bulge was no longer prominent after the taxi ride back but it was certainly still aching and all Mingi wanted right now was a blunt and a cold shower.

“Ok, ok,” Wooyoung was done messing with him, turning the open sign back on. “but don’t I at least get a thank you?”

Mingi flipped him off on his way out, grinning the entire time as he gripped the shopping bag with all his snacks inside.

Wooyoung pouted, feigning hurt.

“Rude.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

“Well,” Johnny opened his apartment door, grinning at Mingi. “if it isn’t Spike!”

Mingi’s eyes widened when the name registered. “You watched it too?” Wooyoung was enough but Johnny too? They were never gonna stop pestering him about it. How many more of his friends were fans of y/n?

“I’d recognize your ass anywhere, Spike.” Johnny smirked at him as he let Mingi inside where Johnny’s best friend and roommate, Jaehyun, was sitting on the couch, bong in hand, smoke blowing from his mouth and coughing a little.

“Aye,” Jaehyun grinned at Mingi and Mingi already knew he saw it too. “Spike!”

Johnny laughed as he grabbed Mingi’s baggy, the weed concealed inside a solid neon green ziplock. “Jaehyun tried it once, didn’t last ten minutes.”

“Hey!” Jaehyun glared at Johnny. So Jaehyun had tried to help y/n before? Mingi assumed with Johnny being Wooyoung’s dealer too, that his friend must of been the one to send him. “It’s not my fault she’s hot!”

Mingi played with his tongue piercing, contemplating. Jaehyun was a very attractive guy with a voice to match so again, why was Mingi the exception for y/n to let him join her?

“So everyone knows it was me?” Mingi really didn’t care, something in him awakening and loving that y/n only let him join her. Loved that everyone knew how good he could get her off. How much of a mess he could make her.

“You’re the only 6ft emo we know with pink hair.” Johnny snorted as he sat down beside Jaehyun, grabbing the bong and repacking the bowl. “And you weren’t exactly discreet.”

Mingi stayed at Johnny’s long enough for Jaehyun to interrogate him on how he got y/n to let him join only to answer him with a shrug every time as he got in a few hits from the bong before shoving his bag of weed into the waistband of his underwear and leaving.

San was watching a cooking video on tiktok when Mingi got home, standing in the kitchen with a bowl of something red that Mingi did not want to know what it was. San was a horrible cook. Byeol hopped onto the kitchen counter, sniffing the red substance in the mixing bowl before hissing and jumping back down.

“What the hell are you cooking?” Mingi reached down to pat Byeol as she rubbed against his leg, sniffing him. “I’m trying to make kimchi.” San didn’t remove his gaze from his phone. Mingi snorted. “Good luck with that.” He went to his room, dropping his bag of snacks onto his bed before walking across the hall to the bathroom.

His shower started out cold, Mingi slowly easing it to warm after his hard on had subsided but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get y/n out of his head. Her moans. Her scent. Everything was invading him and refusing to leave him alone.

The shower head poured over him, steam enveloping the bathroom as Mingi gripped himself in his hand, closing his eyes and picturing y/n on her knees in those little knee high socks. It was only Tuesday and he wouldn’t see her again until Friday.

Mingi slowly started to stroke himself, his imagination giving him the perfect image of what he wanted Friday. Y/N had practically asked if she could give him head and he was certainly not going to deny her.

“Fuck…” he bit his bottom lip as his strokes grew faster, pants leaving him as he could only imagine how heavy he’d feel on her tongue. Ached to see how far she could take him. How long she could go while he fucked her mouth, make her gag and become a complete ruined mess.

He came just as San knocked on the door saying he was ordering Chinese instead after giving up on his attempt at kimchi.

Mingi couldn’t care less.

He just needed it to hurry up and be Friday already.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @dejatiny @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @hannahlilibet411

[paxtito]

and they were roommates

pairings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 2717

warnings: smut 18+, masturbating, oral (r receiving), p in v, swearing

summary: tara is out running errands, she’d be gone for hours- or so you thought

a/n: i’m working on multiple request atm— wenclair x reader one and the radiohead song (i’m just listening and reading the song to get an idea atm) also thank you to the anon for requesting this and their kind words!

The dorm is quiet, unusually so, and it’s kind of nice. Tara had mentioned heading out for the day—something about running errands and meeting up with Sam—and while you’re used to the hum of her presence, the silence isn’t unwelcome.

You glance around the shared space. It’s small but cozy, a mix of her personality and yours crammed into every corner. Her side of the room is meticulously organized—her books stacked neatly, her bed made with precision. In contrast, your side looks… well, lived-in. A pile of clothes rests precariously on your desk chair, and your bed is a haphazard mess of blankets and pillows.

You plop onto your bed, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through social media. Without Tara around, you’re left to your own devices—literally. You snort at a meme, sending it to her out of habit.

“That’s stupid,” she’d probably reply, but there’d be a hint of fondness in it.

After a while, you glance at the clock. Noon. The day stretches ahead, and you find yourself feeling restless. You could clean up your side of the room, but… nah. Instead, you wander over to Tara’s desk.

Her books catch your eye first—old classics mixed with crime thrillers and a few surprisingly heartfelt poetry collections. You pick one up, flipping through the pages idly. A note scribbled in the margin catches your attention, her handwriting sharp and deliberate: “This makes no sense. Why didn’t he just leave?”

You chuckle softly. Even in her annotations, Tara’s blunt honesty shines through.

Your gaze drifts to her bulletin board. It’s a mix of pinned photos, ticket stubs, and little reminders. One of the pictures is of the two of you, taken on move-in day. You’re grinning like an idiot, throwing up a peace sign, while she’s glaring at the camera, her arms crossed—but there’s a subtle upturn to her lips that gives her away.

You flop onto your bed, the old springs creaking under your weight. The small TV in the corner flickers to life as you jab at the remote, the sound of canned laughter filling the room. It's some trashy reality show, but it's mindless and distracting—just what you need right now.

As you settle in, your gaze drifts around the room. Tara's side is always so pristine, everything in its place. It's annoying how tidy she is. You, on the other hand... well, your side looks like a bomb went off in a thrift store.

You reach for the bag of chips on your nightstand, tearing it open with a loud rip. The salty scent mingles with the faint smell of Tara's lavender body spray, creating a strange but not unpleasant odor.

You munch away, eyes glued to the screen, as snippets of conversation from the show drift through your thoughts.

"I think I'm going to kill her," one of the contestants is saying, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

You snort. Yeah, right. They're all too busy primping and preening to actually do anything. Unlike the Ghostface killers, they've got no balls.

You check the time again, just to be sure. Tara won't be back for at least a couple of hours. With the coast clear, a mischievous grin spreads across your face. Time to take advantage of the privacy.

You reach over to your bedside table, fishing around in the drawer until your fingers close around the cool, smooth bottle of lotion. You pop the cap open with practiced ease, squirting a generous amount into your palm. The slick, slightly cold sensation sends a shiver down your spine as you rub your hands together, warming the lotion.

With your other hand, you unlock your phone and pull up your favorite porn site. Your fingers fly over the screen as you type in your search, already feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal. A few taps later, and a video starts playing, the sounds of moaning and grunting filling the now-silent room.

You settle back against your pillow, one hand already slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. Your cock is already half-hard, twitching in anticipation. You wrap your fingers around it, giving it a slow stroke as you watch the scene unfold on your screen.

You stroke your cock slowly, teasingly, savoring the building pleasure. Your other hand roams over your chest, pinching and tweaking a nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. The dual sensations send sparks of electricity shooting through your body, making your hips buck up into your touch.

On screen, the actress lets out a particularly loud moan, and you match it with a groan of your own. Fuck, that's hot.

Just as you're getting into a rhythm, the door to your dorm swings open without warning. You freeze, your hand still wrapped around your throbbing cock, as Tara steps inside.

"Shit!" she exclaims, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her. You're sprawled on your bed, pants pulled down, phone in hand, and a sticky puddle of lube on your stomach.

Mortification floods through you, and you frantically try to cover yourself, grabbing a pillow and pressing it over your lap. Your face burns with embarrassment, and you can't meet Tara's gaze.

"I-I thought you said you'd be gone for hours!" you stammer, trying to come up with some excuse. But there's no hiding what you were doing.

Tara stands in the doorway, frozen in shock. Her eyes dart between your flushed face and the pillow. After a moment, she seems to shake herself out of her stupor.

Tara's eyes flick down to the pillow, then back up to your face. Her expression is unreadable, but there's a glint in her eye that makes your stomach flutter with nerves and excitement.

She steps further into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. The sound seems to echo in the tense silence.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she says, her voice low and teasing. She saunters over to your bed, the mattress dipping under her weight as she sits on the edge.

Your breath hitches as she reaches out, her fingers brushing against the pillow in your lap. Slowly, she pulls it away, revealing your straining erection. You whimper at the sudden exposure, the cool air hitting your overheated skin.

Tara's gaze rakes over your cock, and you feel yourself grow even harder under her scrutiny. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and your hips twitch involuntarily.

"Looks like you were in the middle of something," she purrs, her hand resting lightly on your thigh. Her touch is electric, sending shivers racing up your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be back so soon," you manage to say, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.

Tara leans in closer, her breath ghosting over your ear. "Don't apologize," she whispers, her lips brushing against your skin. "I think I can help with that."

And then, before you can process what's happening, she's sliding down your body, her hands pushing your legs apart. You gasp as her mouth hovers over your cock, her hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck, Tara," you groan, your fingers tangling in her hair as she takes you into her mouth. The wet heat of her tongue is almost too much to bear, and you buck your hips, desperate for more.

Tara hums around you, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body. She bobs her head, taking you deeper each time, her hand wrapping around the base of your cock.

Your head falls back against the pillows as Tara works her magic. Her mouth is a wonder, hot and wet and so damn perfect. You can feel every ridge and valley of her tongue as it glides along your shaft, tracing the veins and swirling around the head.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," you groan, your hips rocking up to meet her movements. Your fingers tighten in her hair, gently guiding her pace.

Tara hums in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. She takes you deeper, her nose brushing against your pubic bone as she swallows around you.

The sight of her, head bobbing in your lap, lips stretched obscenely around your cock, is almost too much to handle. You feel yourself getting close, your balls tightening and your stomach muscles clenching.

"Tara, I'm gonna..." you warn, your voice strained and breathless.

But she doesn't pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her head moving faster, her hand pumping in tandem. She looks up at you through her lashes, her eyes dark with lust and something else, something intense and hungry.

It's too much. With a guttural groan, you explode in her mouth, your cock pulsing as you spill your seed down her throat. She swallows it all, not spilling a single drop, and continues to suck and lick until you're spent.

Finally, she releases you with a lewd pop, sitting back on her heels and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks immensely pleased with herself, a satisfied smirk on her kiss-swollen lips.

You collapse back onto the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Your whole body feels like jelly, boneless and sated.

"Holy shit," you breathe, running a hand through your sweat-dampened hair. "That was... wow."

Tara giggles, the sound low and sultry. She crawls up your body, straddling your hips and leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You roll over, pinning Tara beneath you on the bed. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. You capture her lips in another heated kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste yourself on her tongue.

Your hands roam her body, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. She arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Breaking the kiss, you sit up and pull her shirt over her head, tossing it carelessly aside. Your eyes drink in the sight of her, clad only in a lacy bra. You lean down, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of her cleavage.

Tara's fingers thread through your hair, tugging gently as she holds you to her. "More," she breathes, her voice husky with need.

You oblige, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. It falls away, freeing her breasts to your hungry gaze. You take a moment to admire them, full and perfect, before lowering your head to take one pebbled nipple into your mouth.

Tara gasps, her back arching off the bed. You lavish attention on her breast, sucking and nibbling until she's writhing beneath you. Your hand slides down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans.

"These need to go," you murmur against her skin, hooking your fingers in the denim and pulling it down her legs. She lifts her hips to help, kicking the jeans off and leaving her in just a pair of matching lace panties.

You sit back on your heels, taking in the sight of her laid out before you, flushed and wanting. Your cock twitches, already hardening again. You reach down to push your own pants fully off, kicking them away.

Tara's eyes widen as she takes in your naked form, her gaze zeroing in on your erection. "Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you.

You grind your cock against her, feeling the heat of her through the thin lace. Tara gasps, her hips lifting to meet yours, seeking more friction. The rough drag of your hard length against her clothed clit sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you both.

"Please," she whimpers, her fingers digging into your shoulders. "I need you inside me."

You don't make her wait any longer. Hooking your fingers in her panties, you yank them down her legs, tossing them aside carelessly. Tara spreads her legs wider, inviting you in.

You position yourself at her entrance, the head of your cock nudging against her slick folds. Tara's breath hitches, her eyes fluttering closed as you press forward.

You sink into her inch by delicious inch, groaning at the tight, wet heat enveloping you. Tara is so fucking perfect, her walls gripping you like a vice. You bottom out, your hips flush against hers, buried to the hilt inside her.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you pant, fighting the urge to just start pounding into her. Instead, you hold still, letting her adjust to the stretch.

Tara rolls her hips, urging you on. "Move," she demands, her nails raking down your back.

You don't need to be told twice. You start to thrust, setting a steady rhythm that has you both gasping and moaning. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bed.

Tara wraps her legs around your waist, using the leverage to meet your thrusts. Her tits bounce with every snap of your hips, and you lean down to capture a nipple in your mouth, sucking hard.

"Yes, just like that," Tara hisses, her head thrashing on the pillow. "Don't stop."

You have no intention of stopping. You fuck her hard and fast, chasing your pleasure and hers. The coil of heat in your belly winds tighter and tighter, signaling your impending release.

You can feel your orgasm building, your balls tightening and your thrusts becoming erratic. But you force yourself to slow down, to focus on Tara's pleasure instead of your own.

Tara's nails dig into your shoulders, her teeth sinking into your neck as she holds on for dear life. Her walls flutter around you, tightening and releasing in a rhythm that tells you she's close.

You redouble your efforts, angling your hips to hit that spot inside her that makes her see stars. Tara keens, her body tensing beneath you.

You reach between your bodies, finding her clit with your fingers. Tara bucks against your hand, her hips moving in frantic circles as you rub tight circles over the sensitive nub. You can feel her getting closer, her inner walls starting to flutter around your cock.

"Come on, baby," you urge, your voice low and rough. "Come for me."

Tara's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm crashes over her. She cries out, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she comes undone.

The feeling of her coming around your cock is too much. With a guttural groan, you pull out, your hand flying over your shaft as you stroke yourself to completion. Your cum spurts out, painting Tara's stomach in thick, white ropes.

You collapse beside her, both of you panting and sweaty. Tara turns her head to look at you, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

"That was intense," she murmurs, reaching out to brush a sweat-dampened lock of hair from your forehead.

You grab some tissues from the box on your nightstand, quickly wiping the cum from Tara's stomach. She sighs contentedly as you clean her, her body still tingling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

As you toss the used tissues aside, you can't help but let your gaze wander over her naked form. Tara is a vision, her skin flushed and glowing, her hair splayed out on the pillow like a halo. She looks thoroughly debauched, and the sight sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

But then reality starts to set in. You just had sex with your roommate. Your best friend. What does this mean for your relationship? Will things be awkward now?

Tara seems to sense your thoughts. She sits up, pulling the sheet around her naked body. "Hey," she says softly, reaching out to cup your cheek. "We okay?"

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Tara smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Good," she murmurs against your mouth. "Because I want to do that again. Soon."

With that, she hops off the bed, completely unselfconscious in her nudity. She pads over to her closet, rummaging around for something to wear.

You watch her, your mind still reeling. What have you gotten yourself into?

—

request: where reader and Tara are roommates and reader thinks Tara is out so reader starts to masturbate but Tara comes home early and walks in on reader so she gives a helping hand (a blow job) then they do it yk?

[zkg2318]

No Wings No Horns

(important warnings) genre/tags ✶ Heeseung x afab!reader x Jake, plot heavy, angst, smut, some fluff, love triangle trope, thriller/dark, fantasy, themes of murder, themes of violence, themes of reincarnation, angel/devil themed, yandere character, major character death, mentions of suicide, cursing, mentions of hell/heaven, use of y/n, morally gray characters, very brief mention of foster homes, alcohol, very brief descriptions of physical abuse, blood, sleep deprivation, mention of pills, nightmares, etc... like super morally gray characters

smut warnings ✶ ass slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, nicknames (slut, angel, baby), light dubcon (heeseung), fingering, etc…

synopsis ✶ Growing up with your best friend, Jake, you thought you knew him inside and out- until you meet Heeseung on your first day of college. With his dark allure and unyielding devotion towards you, he leaves you questioning who Jake really is. Unbeknownst to you, Jake and Heeseung, who were once best friends in a realm beyond mortal understanding, share a secret so powerful it could shatter everything you thought you knew about them. But after a single, fateful mistake cost them their life full of radiance and purity, they’re now bound to earth under a haunted curse with a fate that can only be ended by one, unforgivable act.

WC ✶ 20.4

Taglist: @wilonevys, @katarinamae, @punchbug9-blog, @riribelle

A/N if you read the teaser, plz reread the beginning as i made significant changes for the plot :)

The realm of Heaven was unlike any other, a breathtaking expanse of greenery where radiant light cascaded over the land, creating a soft golden glow. Rolling hills were stretched as far as the eye could see, adorned with a spread of flowers that bloomed even in the winter. Along the dips in the hills were clear-blue streams that weaved through the landscape like a maze, the trickle of their stream like a peaceful soundtrack to the quiet tranquility of Heaven, or what the Guardian Angels liked to call: Celesta.

Spread throughout the city of Celesta was a variety of skyscrapers that rose into the sky, constructed out of material that seemed to glisten in the sunlight. Each building was intricately carved with a glowing inscription, burning with the prophecy of a fallen angel. Amongst them were structures like the Counsel of Angels, the Angel Hub, and the Headquarters.

In the Counsel of Angels building, decisions regarding Guardian Angels and mortals were made. Inside this building were sky high archways and ethereal sculptures climbing the walls, serving as a sanctuary for Angels to assign missions to Guardian angels. Here, angels gathered to deliberate matters of great importance, the air never failing to fill with harmonious discussion about families in need when meetings occurred. Each voice in the Counsel of Angels building resonated with an authority that boomed, as within these walls laid the power to change the lives of mere mortals, altering the course of fate.

The Angel Hub was comparably a much more relaxed place to be in than the Counsel of Angels. It was a space in which all angels gathered in order to unwind and relax after days or even months following a mission, a plethora of laughter and voices filling the air. Inside the building were large, open areas for social interactions and plush seating arrangements in every corner. In addition to the open spaces and comfortable seating options, was a large range of amenities that offered respite from their guardian duties like a spa and gym, but nothing compared to the bright camaraderie every angel shared amongst one another.

However, the familiar warmth of the Angel Hub stood in stark contrast to the oppressiveness of the Headquarters. The HQ was a strong fortress of judgment- where upon entering- the air turned cold. The entrance was flanked with iron doors and the ceiling ran high, adorned with a mural of The Last Judgment, a cold reminder of the fate awaiting those who dared to break the laws of the Guardian Codes.

Inside the Headquarters laid long, polished oak tables that filled the expansive hall. Here, the Counsel of Angels and members of the HQ gathered on the rare occasion a hearing took place. More often than not, a thin layer of dust would lay undisturbed on these tables, for such meetings were infrequent and unspoken of. However, when a meeting like this did occur, it often meant a Guardian would face punishments as severe as being reincarnated into a mortal angel with a cursed fate- or even worse, a condemnation to Hell.

Now, sitting on the quartz steps leading up to the imposing structure of the HQ building was a boy with platinum-blond hair dressed in a crisp white suit. Despite the solemn stoop in his shoulders, the sun’s radiant glow bathed him in a way that made him appear ethereal, despite the gloom beating around him. Blocking the sunlight with his outstretched wings, another boy descends besides him, casting a shadow over the boy. “It’s time to go inside, Jake.” He says with a grim expression.

Jake reluctantly stands up and joins his best friend of mere decades, Heeseung, each step towards the large iron doors drawing them closer to a fate neither of them could avoid any longer. With a deep breath, Jake pushes the heavy doors open, revealing a long hall filled with towering statues of legendary Guardian Angels- a now haunting site of fallen protectors. “It’s been years since I was last here,” Jake murmurs, a shudder rippling through his frame.

“Was that when the last hearing was?” Heeseung asks in a low voice.

“I’m not sure,” Jake’s gaze remains fixed on the path ahead, “Do you think they’ll let us off easy?”

Heeseung’s steps falter slightly as he listens to Jake’s words, the reason for their summons resurfacing in his mind. The Counsel had summoned the both of them to protect a girl named Alice, a high school senior with dreams of pursuing piano.

Alice was soft-spoken, so innocent and kind in a way that her presence was almost ethereal. She had this vibrance to her that made anyone who interacted with her longing for more. And the way she spoke of her music in such a reverence made it feel almost sacred- like her soul was spilling out bit by bit as each key was played. Her music was her sanctuary, just as her parents were. If it wasn’t her piano, it was her parents. Those two things were her most treasured possessions, up until Jake and Heeseung entered the picture.

Alice quickly captivated Heeseung and Jake in ways they hadn’t anticipated. They hadn’t planned on growing closer to her like that, much less fall for her. That much was forbidden, a Guardian Angel and a mortal to be together. Yet somewhere along the way, the lines between protector and lover blurred to a point even Heaven’s orders couldn’t sever. Though, if Heeseung could throw in any fruit for thought, he would say that it was Jake who was overly enamored with her; and it didn’t help that Alice was as equally infatuated with Jake.

Originally, Alice’s big concert- a chance for her to perform before college scouts- had been canceled due to a severe weather warning. But Jake, defying the angels above, took a reckless risk by manipulating fate to ensure that the show went on. He understood how much this concert meant to Alice; and he wanted nothing more than to see her on stage in that beautiful blue gown she saved up to buy, happily sharing her years of hard work- even if that meant bending a few rules.

That same night, a category 3 storm hit the streets. And while Alice waited in the safety of her venue, her parents got caught up in the eye of the storm on their way to watch her perform. Lightning struck just a car distance in front of their own, interfering with their steering and ultimately leading to their demise.The car had spun out, crashing into a railing and flipping with such force that everyone died on impact. To say Alice was devastated beyond repair when she learned of her parents’ deaths was an understatement. Standing there in the middle of her venue, sobbing in her expensive midnight blue dress as the weight of the news tore through her frame. For weeks, she never spoke, barely ate. She saw it as a devastating sign that her pursuit for happiness had ultimately led to her parents passing. And with the loss of the two things she cared about the most, she took her own life.

As the two boys near another set of doors, Heeseung breaks out of his cycle of thoughts, turning to Jake. “Honestly? I don’t know. What you did was incredibly stupid and reckless.” He sighs, shaking his head.

His friend’s worried expression turns sour, resentment flickering across his face. “If it was so stupid, you would’ve done more to stop me. But you loved her too, you wanted that concert to happen as much as I did.” His words come out bitterly, spitting blame on Heeseung that even he couldn’t deny.

Heeseung loved Alice; there was no denying it. But his love was different- it was more of a calm, steady flame in comparison to the wildfire that consumed Jake. His was all-encompassing, like some unbreakable spell Alice had casted on him. Heeseung feels his hand tighten at his side, but he swallows back the bitterness in his throat, not wanting to shake the brewing fragility of their friendship. He was already beginning to resent Jake for what happened.

The heavy doors creek open, revealing a vast hall filled with members of the Counsel, each occupying a seat at the long oak tables which were laid out in a rectangular shape. Their wings were concealed and their expressions were a mix of disappointment and grief. Heeseung felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he felt the weight of the angel's stares bore through him and Jake. At the center of the assembly hovered 5 angels of the HQ, each member adorned in a long, white cloak which glimmered in the sunlight that was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Guardians Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun,” a deep voice calls, reverberating across the hall. It belonged to an elder angel who hovered at the edge of the group. He descends gracefully to the floor, coming to stand behind the tables while staying within the boundary of the rectangular setup. “Today, you stand before us to discuss the events surrounding your mission with Alice.”

A second angel floats down to join the elder, she was much younger than him with sleek black hair just brushing against the small of her back and sharp cat like eyes. “Let us recount the facts,” she announces, “As two of Celesta’s most highly regarded Guardian Angels, you were entrusted with protecting a high school senior named Alice. Having served us for decades, you were expected to complete this mission seamlessly with no predicaments, but the both of you were blinded by love and selfishness, deviating you from your mission.” She clears her throat, “-and in your failure, led to unimaginable sorrow- the death of an entire family.”

Heeseung’s head lowers under the weight of his guilt that was finally becoming physically burdening. “Look at us when we speak to you.” commands a voice from the center of the hall. It was Michael, God’s second-in-command, a figure whose authority was as powerful as his presence. His voice echoes through the room and Heeseung looks up immediately, raking his eyes over the figure that spoke so purposefully. “Your careless actions resulted in a tragedy- a death count of three innocent souls. I’m assuming as well seasoned Guardian Angels, you’re aware of the punishment associated with mortal deaths.”

Michael had long stood as the most revered angel in all of Heaven. For centuries, his wisdom and strength commanded respect across both Heaven and Earth, his name carrying prestige to both angels and mortals alike. To have him, the highest of all angels, rebuke down on them was like driving a blade of guilt deep into their hearts. The sharpness of their own guilt pierced deeper than any blade could, settling through their veins like ice. No angel ever wished to face his wrath, and yet here they were, awaiting his final judgment.

“Lee Heeseung and Sim Jaeyun, given the severity of your actions, an appeal or intervention will not be entertained. The punishment will be absolute.”

Jake and Heeseung’s blood ran cold, a tremor of dread crawling up their spines. Jake shuffles ever so slightly over to his best friend, discreetly linking his pinky in Heeseung’s, desperate for some sort of temporary comfort as he faces his fate. Their faces burn with guilt as Michael’s words echo with finality, tightening the tension in the air. Heeseung felt his knees weaken, every fiber in his being fighting to keep him upright.

“You may say your last words before your punishment is carried out.”

Heeseung takes a step forward, his heart lurching as he reluctantly releases himself from Jake’s hand. “It is with profound regret that an innocent life like Alice’s was so greatly affected by our selfish, one-sided actions. Due to our careless behavior and lack of critical thinking and compassion we failed to protect Alice and those around her, resulting in the death of her loved ones, and ultimately herself. And for that, we will spend the rest of our lives repenting for our mistakes.”

There was no plea in the speech he delivered, Heeseung understood Michael’s words clearly. Forgiveness wasn’t in their future to seek, the tragedy so great it was something beyond reconciliation. Their fate was sealed as soon as Alice’s death was final. As a Guardian Angel, it was their sacred duty to guide and protect those assigned to them; and to fail in that was to bring peril to the universe, tipping the world off its axle.

Heeseung turns to Jake, a silent look asking if he wishes to say anything. Jake’s gaze remains fixated on his white dress shoes. He shook his head, swallowing hard. Heeseung turns back to Heeseung, his gaze heavy with sorrow, “I speak for the both of us when I say there is nothing else for us to add. We are ready to accept our punishment.”

In the city of Celesta, tragedy could only be answered with sacrifice.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

“Stop fucking touching me,” you complain, pushing away your best friend for what felt like the umpteenth smile.

“I can’t help it!” Jake whines, tagging along beside you with that familiar pout you knew so well, his metaphorical puppy ears switching into airplane mode as though you’d scolded him. “It's the first day of class, Y/n! How am I not supposed to be nervous?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh a little, breaking your facade. “This isn’t even our biggest lecture, that one’s at 2 p.m., remember?” You say, pushing open the classroom door as you begin to glance around for an empty seat. Your eyes eventually zero in on two seats in the middle, and with a well-practiced tug on his hoodie sleeve, you drag him to what you hoped would be your unassigned assigned seats for the rest of the semester. “Jake, do you think this class is going to be boring?”

Jake drops into his seat with an exaggerated huff, setting his head on the desk. “I heard the first day of college is reserved for talking about the syllabus.” he mutters, his hoodie covering his eyes. “I miss middle school when we got babied for being the only sixth graders in our classes.”

Rolling your eyes, you let your mind fall back to when you first met Jake in middle school, tucked away in the back corner of an advanced math class where the two of you were considered outliers. As the only sixth graders navigating honors pre-algebra, you were dwarfed- surrounded by ninth graders that towered over you like giants, casting you annoyed glances every chance they got. It was clear from the start that you and Jake would become quite close considering the disapproval the older students gave you two.

In seventh grade, you noticed his presence in your other advanced classes too- biology and english- each time being the only other seventh grader in the sea of high schoolers. He was your partner for every project- not by choice- but because no other student wanted to pair up with the young, pre-pubescent students whose voices cracked with every other word.

Gradually, the constant presence of Jake being near you became something you looked forward to. Whether you were double-checking some crazy long math formula or relearning the Krebs cycle for the umpteenth time, Jake was always besides you. Your partnership, born out of pure convenience and necessity, became an anchor for you in those chaotic years. By the time 8th grade came around, he was more than just a familiar face, but your best friend.

Breaking you from your thoughts, your classroom begins to fill and an older man enters the room, briefcase swinging by his side. “Alright, welcome to Econ 101. We’ll start with attendance right away.” Beside you, Jake grumbles softly into his sweater, tucking his hands under his chin.

For the next few minutes, your professor goes through a list of names you’ve never heard of, his voice a monotonous drone that drags through the air. “Lee Heeseung?” he calls. You feel Jake tense beside you, his half-closed eyes snapping open completely. From the back of the room, a low voice murmurs, “Here.”

Curiously, you crane your neck to glance over your shoulder, catching sight of him- a boy with dark red hair, an unwavering gaze fixed ahead of him, completely disinterested in anyone else. His eyes seem to bore through the heads of those sitting in front of him, as if they’re merely ghosts. Feeling an unwavering chill run through your veins, you turn back in your seat.

When your own name is called, you manage a steady “Here”, shaking off the unease of Heeseung’s blank stare.

Finally, the professor reaches Jake’s name, “Sim Jaeyun?” he calls. Jake mutters a lackluster, “Here” that’s just loud enough for the professor to hear and you nudge him in the side.

“Why didn’t you tell him to call you Jake?”

He gives you a half-hearted yawn, “Just tired,” he attempts, his voice fraying at the edges. You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue before turning your attention back to the front of the class. The professor continues to drone on, like Jake had predicted earlier, spending most of today’s class time dissecting the syllabus at an almost microscopic detail. It’s a dense discussion, and you find your attention wavering in and out until the words, ‘group project’ catch your ear.

Upon hearing the collective sighs from the small class, the professor offers a smile, undeterred by the class’s reaction. “I know, I know. Group projects aren’t everyone’s favorite, but teamwork is essential in the real world. I’ve assigned you all into groups of three.”

Jake lets out another tired sigh, his tense body unrelenting as he turns to you, “I hope we’re paired up.” He whispers, leaning his heavy head into your shoulders before slumping into his seat.

Names start to echo through the room as the professor starts calling them out in groups of three, “Sim Jaeyun, Y/n L/n,” he pauses before adding the last name, “And Lee Heeseung.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you swing around to face Jake with a wide grin, “You manifested well, my Jake.” You tell him, nudging him in the side. He offers you a faint smile, hoping you wouldn’t notice the way his heart raced at the mere thought of his near future. Not noticing the way your best friend has slipped into his own little shell of overthinking, you find your gaze flickering to the back of the classroom. You steal a glance at Heeseung and notice that he hasn’t budged, still as disinterested as ever- though this time, there’s a new sharpness to his gaze.

The professor continues on, tone light hearted as he wraps up the class, “I’d highly suggest meeting with your group after today's class to start working on the project immediately. College will surely keep you busy, and I would hate to see you guys turn this in late.”

The moment he concludes, you gather your things and turn towards Jake, “Could you talk to Heeseung and get his contact info? I’ve got to rush to my next class.”

He nods, albeit absentmindedly as he watches you disappear without waiting for a response. But before Jake could begin processing his next move, he feels a tug on the back of his hoodie, Heeseung’s hand roughly grabbing at the fabric. “Whoa- what the heck?” Jake says, stumbling to grab his backpack as Heeseung drags him into an empty hall.

The silence in the hall is deafening, away from the bustle of students. “Jake.” Heeseung deadpans, the word devoid of any emotion. With knitted eyebrows, Heeseung moves forward until he’s just inches away from Jake’s face.

The smaller boy freezes, a shiver running through his veins as he slowly looks up to meet the dark gaze of the boy standing before him. “Heeseung.” He says, the name falling from his lips like a blow of dust. “You didn’t have to pull me like that, we’re in the same group. No need to be… dramatic.”

Heeseung doesn’t relent. Instead, he steps forward and keeps his gaze fixed on his ex best friend. “Dramatic?” His voice drops dangerously low. “You think I waited all this time for a fucking group project, just to be called ‘dramatic’?”

Jake’s breath hitches, a chill creeping over him as he registers the menace in Heeseung’s voice- a stark contrast to the Heeseung he had known all those years ago. The Heeseung from before was soft-spoken, carrying himself with a quiet confidence that radiated warmth and gentleness, not this harsh authority he was seeing now. With his unforgiving glare and sharpness in his voice, Jake could barely recognize him; if not for his name and familiar bambi shaped eyes, Heeseung would have seemed like a complete stranger.

Jake swallows, his throat dry as the memory of their punishment relinquishes his mind due to the sudden reunion with his old best friend. Losing his wings was like losing his identity, and it took years for him to step out of that darkness once he regained his memories at the age of 11. And he couldn’t even imagine what it must have felt like for Heeseung- to not only lose his wings but to also be severed from his angelic nature completely. The fall from grace hadn’t been easy for either of them: the hollow ache in Jake’s shoulders acting as a constant reminder of what he used to have, and the tether that had once kept Heeseung close to the light being stripped entirely from him. Jake may have fallen, but Heeseung had fallen so much further for reasons Jake didn’t know.

“What’s got you waiting any longer? Can’t kill me?” Jake asks, his eyes hardening.

“Killing you isn’t on my agenda, at least not right now. There’s still so much to be done, let’s catch up soon, okay?”

Jake’s head swirls with emotions as Heeseung takes a step back, an evil smirk plastered on his face. The chill in the hallway seems to thicken as Heeseung turns around, lengthening the distance between them. His head becomes heavy as the weight of their shared past presses heavily on him, lingering questions of what’s in store hovering in the air like a dark cloud.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

“So did you get his number?” You ask, plopping down next to Jake who was sprawled out on your dorm room floor.

With a shake of the head, he tells you that Heeseung had left immediately before he could grab any contact information. “Tch, we’ll have to get it next class then.” You reply, laying down to look up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you had put up on your ceiling when you first moved in. Jake had suggested the Orion. “Was it just me, or did he give off weird vibes?” You ask, unable to keep your observations about him a secret.

Shifting besides you, Jake turns to face you, “Yeah, the guy gives me the creeps. It’s like he’s waiting for something to happen…”

He swallows hard, his mind a race of thoughts as he juggles the various paths Heeseung might take in order to achieve immortality again. Would Heeseung really follow through with what Michael said in order to redeem their punishment now that they had located each other, or would he just continue to lay low?

So many years had passed, Jake could almost say he had forgotten about the deal they had made with the Counsel of Angels and the HQ. He almost didn’t want to go back, life was amazing, but he knew the cursed fate of his punishment was bound to come. And now that the long awaited encounter with Heeseung had finally happened, it was time for Jake to put his guard up.

Just then, your phone buzzes, catching Jake in the middle of his inner battle. You glance down to see a text from Chaeryoung, a girl you had met earlier that day in your English 116 class, inviting you to a party. “Hey, there’s a party going on at the Alpha Delta frat house, you wanna swing by?”

Jake raises an eyebrow at you, not giving any sign of standing up any time soon. “A party? When did you start going to those?”

“Since never, but we’re in college now.” You reply, a playful gleam sparkling in your eyes as you hold a hand out for him to grab. “We have to start leaving the house for things that aren’t math competitions and family dinners.”

Jake hesitates for a minute, glancing at your outstretched hand before ultimately letting out a resigned sigh and grabbing it.

You were right; the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine, cocooned within the walls of your childhood homes, spending your nights hunched over textbooks and cramming for high school finals. Family events were also a staple in your lives, with the two of your families growing closer over the years as you two spent more and more time together, every holiday became a joint gathering.

“Fine, but I’m only coming to make sure you don’t get plastered.” He says with reluctance in his voice.

Smiling happily at your best friend, you lock yourself away in the bathroom, the soft click of the door providing you a moment of privacy. As you change into a plaid black skirt and simple sweater, you give yourself a once over in the mirror, adjusting your hair and shaking off any lingering feelings of hesitancy before unlocking the door.

His gaze sweeps over you, his eyes lingering just a fraction longer on your exposed legs than they should. You can’t help but notice a rush of warmth that rises to your cheeks when his eyes meet yours, “What, should I go and change?” you ask, embarrassment laced in your voice.

His response is quick as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “No, no. You look fine, let’s go.” With that, he steps out of your dorm room.

The frat house isn’t far- just a five minute walk from your place, but the journey stretches into the double digits as you and Jake navigate the unfamiliar plot of land in the darkness, illuminated only by the occasional glow of streetlamps and laughter of fellow college students.

As you approach a large building that is surrounded by students holding drinks and swaying to booming music, you hear a feminine voice call your name. “Girl, you’re finally here! I didn’t know if you’d make it.” Looking over to your left, you see a girl with long black hair jogging over to you and Jake with two red solo cups in hand. “Here, it’s a special drink I mixed just for you,” she says, shoving the concoction into your free hand.

With a cautious sip, you let the tangy liquid reach your tastebuds and you click your tongue, giving it a moment to settle. “It’s quite nice!” You say, raising your cup for another sip. Jake’s cautious hand lands on your arm before you can savor another sip, and you look at him with curiosity.

“Are you sure? What about your pills?” He asks in a low voice.

“They’re just antidepressants, not opioids.” You tell him, pulling away from him to take a second sip. You loved Jake enough to never tell him this, but you were hoping that tonight would give you a chance to explore the world without Jake hovering around you. He was always so protective.

She smiles, linking her arm through yours and nodding her head for Jake to follow.

She leads the two of you into the frat house, quickly introducing you to four other girls: Yeji, Lia, Yuna, and Ryujin. “Jake, go make some friends. I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything else than stand around surrounded by girls.” You say, shooing him off. He shoots you a look but saunters off to the kitchen to talk to some boys, quickly captivating them with his signature puppy charm.

With the help of Chaeryoung’s drink, you make quick work with the girls you just met, finding yourself settling down with them comfortably as the night unfolds. Ryujin and Lia leave for just a moment to refill your drinks, coming back a second later with a different mixture, this one more bitter and leaving a sour burn in your throat. “Let’s go dance.” Yeji says, grabbing your wrist.

You follow her into the living room where a group of drunken bodies are pushing against each other, intoxicatingly out of rhythm with the music. Yeji pulls you into the crowd, encouraging you to dance alongside the sweaty bodies and sway to the bass of the music.

As you let the alcohol guide your movements, you fail to notice the eyes on your back. Disheartened by your lack of awareness, a boy walks up to you and pulls you away from the crowd by your waist. Due to your senses being dimmed from the alcohol, you can only manage a meek swat to the arm. “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked dancing over there.” He murmurs, too close to your ear.

You look into his eyes, noticing a darkness in his gaze, clearly unaware of your discomfort. Glancing around, you suddenly become hyper-aware of the way the crowd around you two seems to press on without a second glance. In an effort to put some distance between you and the stranger, you try to step back, but your effort is proven futile when he pulls you closer. “What, trying to leave, kitten?”

His breath is fanning in front of your face now, and you can smell the strong scent of beer intoxicating your senses. With sweat beading at the root of your forehead, you glance around one more time and spot Jake out of the corner of your eye making a beeline toward you.

“Back off,” he says instantly, pushing his body between you and the stranger.

“Who the hell is this? Your fucking Guardian Angel?”

The stranger steps into Jake’s space, testing the waters to see just how far your best friend will go. Jake, who had always been strong willed and protective, doesn’t budge. The tension around you three thickens, drawing in the gaze of a few partygoers, but no one moves. “She isn’t interested,” He says, “So back off.”

The man lets out a scoff, broadening his chest out as if to size Jake up, “What makes you think she isn’t interested?”

You notice the way Jake’s hand clenches by his side, his knuckles flurrying white, and for a moment, you’re worried he may take it too far. Jake was never one for aggression, he was always the voice of reason, someone who would rather defuse a situation with words rather than with fists. But now, Jake stands in front of the guy who dared to make you uncomfortable, locking eyes, “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says, his voice low and sharp.

It’s the first time in your life you’ve ever heard him speak with an edge to his voice, and it’s almost enough to make you weak. After a long, tense silence, the guy finally smirks and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alight, angel.” He says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you can have her.”

As his figure melts back into the crowd, Jake’s shoulders sag, letting out a deep breath as the tension from before visibility settles. “You okay?” he asks, his tone softening as he scans your face.

You nod, a similar relief matching his as you pull him into a hug. “You know you didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve found my way out eventually.” You say, giggling as the alcohol buzzes through your veins.

He shrugs, holding you in his arms for just a second longer. “Yeah… Guess it’s just my job.”

“You really are my Guardian Angel, aren’t you?” You tease, laughing before skipping off to find Yeji, whom you had lost earlier.

Jake watches as you disappear into the crowd once more, your words echoing in his mind: Guardian Angel, if only you knew. Your mere mention of a Guardian Angel felt like a cold slap to the face, reminding him of everything you didn't know, everything he couldn’t tell you.

The irony of it all nearly makes him laugh, but instead, a hint of sadness glistens in his eyes when he loses sight of you again. You weren’t assigned to him like Alice, but he took it upon himself to act as your Guardian Angel as soon as he met you in that advanced math class. He felt like it was a sign, to protect you from the harsh judgment of the older students. Acting as your “Guardian Angel” wasn’t just a joke to him- it was something he vowed upon when he ascended into the heavens. But it was something you would never know the full extent of.

Maybe he wasn’t the angel that he once was- powers stripped and all- but there was still that tether holding him to the light that kept Jake up like a guiding force, subtle but steady. He knew there was still a chance, still a possibility to come back.

With a shake of the head, Jake glances around before making his way back to the kitchen. As he weaves through the crowd, he spots Heeseung casually leaning against a wall, watching everything that had just unfolded. Their eyes lock, and Jake feels a flicker of unease twist in his stomach, wincing before turning away. “Toss me a beer,” he mutters to the group near him, shaking off the gaze of Heeseung’s eyes on his back.

Jungwon, one of the boys he had met earlier, slides a Guinness across the kitchen island. “You good, man? You look like you just saw the devil.” He jokes, his cat eyes seen creasing over his solo cup.

Jake almost laughs; he practically had. “Nah, just had a run in with some dude hitting on my best friend.” He says, hoping the swig from his beer would calm the unease stirring inside of him.

Jay, another guy from the group, raises his eyebrow. “You like her?”

Jake shakes his head, forcing out a laugh as he ignores the heaviness in his stomach, “No, just… protective. That’s all.”

Jay and Jungwon glance at one another, giving eachother a knowing look. Though they had only met Jake a few hours ago, Jake was easy to decipher. It was clear to them that Jake looked at you in a way that was more than just ‘friendly’.

Hours blur by as Jake hangs out in the kitchen with a group of boys and you dance amongst the crowd on your fourth cup of whatever Chaeryoung had managed to mix for you, each one stronger than the last. It felt unbelievably freeing, a complete 180 from the years of careful restriction your parents had kept you under for so long. You’d never had the chance to drink or go out to parties back in high school; your parents always saying something about your meds not mixing well with alcohol. But you had been on them since you were seven, around the time you started your piano lessons. You felt like it was just an excuse for them to keep you under their supervision. But it didn’t matter anyways, they weren’t here to hover over your shoulder now- and damn did you feel alive.

Lost in the rhythm, you dance along with your friends, letting the alcohol guide your messy movements. You feel your back stick to Yuna’s skin as you move against her, sweat slicking your body the harder you dance. It was getting hot, but you enjoyed it. With your eyes closed, you sway along to the music and let your laughter mix into the air until you feel a firm grip catch your arm.

“Y/n, we should get going.” A familiar voice says into your ear.

“Whyyy?” you slur, pathetically holding back a giggle as you lean into him. Jake steadies you, catching your frame as he wraps a secure arm around your waist.

“You’re drunk, Y/n.” He says, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm.”

Through half-closed eyes, you give a lazy nod and let your best friend drag you through the crowded frat house. It takes double the time it took to get here than it does to get back to your dorm thanks to your drunken gait and need to look at every flower on the ground, but you manage to make it back to your dorm in one piece.

“Can you change, or do you need help?” He asks, noticing the way you flop onto your bed.

“I’m fine.” you drawl.

Jake quirks an eyebrow as amusement flickers in his eyes. “You sure?” He asks, watching as you try to shimmy your way out of your skirt and top. Leaning against your wall, he crosses his arms.

“I said I’m fine.” you insist, finally managing to wriggle out of your clothes, leaving you in your panties and bra. Jake, ignoring the flush in his cheeks lets out an awkward chuckle.

“Ok, I believe you.” He says, ignoring the way his heart flutters at seeing your cute messed up state. Moving to your bed, he grabs at your blanket and pulls it above your chest, “Text me when you wake up, alright?”

Before leaving, Jake reaches into your bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle of Advil, making sure to fill up a glass of water as well, placing it next to your bed before slipping out of your room quietly. Hearing the door click behind him, he turns around only to come face to face with the one and only, Heeseung.

“Gosh, do me a favor and put on a bell.” He gasps, clutching at his heart. Heeseung’s expression doesn’t change though, his gaze all the more intense as he looks at Jake with an unreadable stare.

“You’re so careless, sneaking around in her room now?” He says, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I’m just looking out for her, Heeseung.” Jake says, attempting to step around the boy. With a quick side step, Heeseung blocks his path, allowing him to deliver his next words in a low whisper.

“You’re not a Guardian Angel, anymore.” He hisses, venom dripping in his voice. “Unless there’s…some sort of ulterior motive?”

Jake forces himself to stay calm, “Stop talking about that.” He asserts, looking around to see if anyone heard, “And don’t be ridiculous. I’m her best friend.” With one final glance, Jake bumps Heeseung in the shoulder to get past him, heading down to the first floor of your dorm building. “Why are you even here?”

Heeseung watches him descend down the steps, his expression twisting into something darker, possessive even. “Just…meeting with a friend.” He mutters. As Jake’s figure disappears down the stairwell, Heeseung turns back to face your door. “Y/n…” He licks his lips after saying your name, the word falling from his lips like honey.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the special concoctions that Chaeryoung had mixed for you earlier. With Jake’s help, you fall asleep quite fast, but you find the dreams that night were particularly vivid.

Your hands fly across the keys of the grand piano, each note a haunting and lonely calling that fills the seemingly empty space around you. The spotlights harsh glow envelops you, casting everything beyond you into a vast darkness that seems to stretch on to no end. Every note echos, only proving your point that you seem to be in a never ending void.

In the shadows, just beyond the spotlight’s reach sat two blurry figures on wooden chairs. Though their faces were hidden, you could make out the frame of a woman and a man sitting together in close proximity. There was something warm and familiar about them that emanates at you as you continue to play, a feeling that fills you with comfort and sorrow. They sit there in complete silence, watching you.

The song intensifies as each chord brings you to reach new heights, the melody picking up as it fills the unmoving space. Your hands are moving faster now, an ache growing in your chest as you reach the climax of the song. Finally, pressing the final key, you look up, only to see that the figures have faded. In their absence leaves a deep, inexplicable grief.

To say you could’ve had a better morning was an understatement. Your head is throbbing, and your throat is parched as hell. But to your convenience, an Advil bottle and glass of water decorate your bedside table and you quickly swallow the pill. Feeling the large pill descend down your throat, you close your eyes as if to will the pounding sensation to go away.

With your eyes closed, remnants of your dream come back to your mind and you can’t seem to shake the feeling of that loss from your heart. You never enjoyed your piano lessons, but never had they made you feel grief. It was always a struggle to keep at your lessons, each note feeling like a chore rather than a hobby. Yet now, you don’t think you could find yourself forgetting that melody for some time.

A sudden knock at your door jolts you from your thoughts, the sound echoing in your head. “Y/n, get up!” Jake calls out, his voice muffled. You roll your eyes, feeling an odd annoyance towards the sound of your best friend's voice.

“Come in!” You shout back. The door swings open, revealing a bored looking Jake. He walks in, having unlocked your door with the illegal key copy he made of your dorm key. He wasn’t one to ever break the rules, but if it meant keeping you safe, he guessed he could bend just a few. “How do you feel?” He asks, coming to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Like hell,” you admit, rubbing at your temples in a futile attempt to ease the aching pain.

“Did you take the pills I left out for you?” He probes, leaning over to see if you had drunk the glass of water.

His overbearingness has you rolling your eyes harder than you normally would and you wince, your headache pounding as you do so. “Yes, I-” Before you can finish your sentence, your phone begins to ring, interrupting the moment. You hold a hand up to Jake, signaling for him to shut his mouth. “Hello?” you answer, your voice still thick with sleep.

“My sweet vixen,” a smooth voice says, “How did you sleep?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly turn your face so that your hair falls to cover your expressions. “I slept fine, thanks.” You reply, doing your best to keep your tone level. Jake perks up upon hearing you talk about your sleep, wondering who would bother asking you how you slept.

“I’d like to meet up around 4 p.m. in the Cornox building to discuss our economics project with you and Jake, would that be okay?” Heeseung continues, his voice confident as he toys with the pen in his fingers back at his own dorm.

“Yeah, I’ll let him know.” you say right before hastily hanging up the call. Lowering your hand, you look at Jake who had been staring at you intently.

“Who was that?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Heeseung,” you say plainly, avoiding his gaze as you feel the lingering heat on your cheeks still there. As you stand up from your bed, you feel the cool air hit your naked skin and you scramble to the bathroom. “Oh my gosh, Jake! Don’t look at me!”

Jake rolls his eyes, striding over to your closet with a casual ease to pick out a pair of shorts and top. “Oh hush, you literally stripped in front of me last night.” He teases, opening your door enough to reach his arm in, handing you the clothes. “How did he get your number?”

“I ran into him at the party last night, did you not see him?” You say, throwing the garments on quickly.

Jake’s face hardens at the thought of you meeting with Heeseung without him there, “I did…I just don’t know.” He answers, hesitating for just a moment before pressing on, “I think you should be careful, he seems- intense.”

You throw Jake a look, brushing off his concerns, “Jake, I can’t exactly ignore him when we have to meet up with him later today to work on the econ project.” Swinging the bathroom door open, you step out. “I can handle myself, now shut up and help me find my econ notebook. I think I left it under my bed.”

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

The day moves faster than you’d anticipated, your shared classes with Jake flying by quickly due to his constant whispering in your ear. Though, your one class with Heeseung raises an unease in your stomach you can’t quite shake throughout the day due to the weight of his gaze on your back.

Before you know it, 4 p.m. arrives and you’re standing in the middle of the Cornox building with Jake, the two of you glancing around expectantly. The building was rather old, its building pillars stretching over 12 feet high and carved with intricate detailing that you couldn’t recognize. They rise up into an archway that soars above your heads, giving the building a sort of timelessness to the hall that makes you feel out of place everytime you walk in wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt.

“Didn’t he say the Cornox building?” Jake asks, his foot tapping on the glossed over stone tiles in an irrythmic pattern.

“I did, didn’t I?” a voice drawls from behind.

Turning, you see Heeseung approaching, dressed in a black hoodie and faded blue jeans, such casual clothes for someone with such an intense, magnetic energy. His eyes, sharp and calculating, meet yours for just a moment before he glides past the two of you, claiming a seat at the table before you both. Swallowing, you sit in the chair beside him and Jake follows suit, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“Let’s start by dividing up the project,” Heeseung suggests, pulling out his laptop. “I think Y/n and I should handle the presentation- gather all the research and everything.” He looks over at Jake with a challenge in his stare, “Jake, you can write up the draft for the research paper and then we can edit that before submitting everything.”

You stare at your hands, fingers intertwined and tucked in the safety between your legs as you feel the weight of the silence that stretches between the three of you. Heeseung’s assertive voice weighs heavily in the air, and you’ll be damned if you’re the first one to break the silence. Instead, you keep your gaze fixed downwards as you pull your things from out of your backpack. Jake, fueled with jealousy swallows his words and nods towards Heeseung, pulling his own laptop and textbooks out.

Besides you, Jake stiffens, his jaw clenched as he types furiously at his laptop. ‘Since when did we choose a group leader, huh?’ he thinks to himself. He glances up at Heeseung briefly, a mixture of annoyance glazing over his irises as he represses himself from shouting at the boy.

For the next few hours, the three of you work together in a tense but calm rhythm, only puncturing the steady silence through murmured debates about resources and presentation slides. The earlier tension from before seems to slowly give way through your productive collaboration, and you almost forget about the strained dynamic that Jake and Heeseung seemed to share. After a while, you begin to find your back becoming sore from hunching over your laptop for so long. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a long sigh.

“Should we call it a day? I think we’ve done enough.” You suggest, rolling your shoulders as your shirt lifts slightly.

Heeseungs gaze flickers down to the sliver of skin that peeks under your shirt, and he leans back with a smirk. “That’s a good idea, Y/n.”

“Yuna told me there’s a 24/7 Cafe just down the street. It’s supposed to be perfect for late-night hangouts, how about we head there for a bit and check it out?” You ask, smiling at the two boys.

Jake nods, offering you a faint smile despite the obvious reluctance towards having to spend more time around Heeseung tugging at his heart. He wasn’t one to say no to you. You gather your things and beckon the boys to hurry up, leaving the Cornox building and walking across the campus under the evening sky. Within minutes, the glow of the cafe comes into view and your eyes sprawl over the pillars adorned with crawling vines and the frosted windows with flower boxes of every color.

Inside, the cafe is warm and inviting as the dim campus lights seep through the windows. The cafe is lit by a warm hue, casting a humble glow over its patrons, creating a cozy sanctuary. Navigating through the space, you find a table in the corner and settle in as Jake heads to the counter to order your drinks. “Did you want anything, Heeseung?” You say, reaching for your wallet. You knew Jake already knew your cafe order, but you didn’t recall him ever asking what Heeseung wanted.

Heeseung places his hand over your own, his fingers cold against your warm ones. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not hungry.” His voice is smooth as he stops you from reaching for your wallet. You smile, feeling a sudden shyness as you pull your hands away from his just as Jake comes back.

“One medium iced vanilla latte for you,” Jake says, placing your drink in front of you. His eyes move towards the vacancy in front of Heeseung and he lets out a hum, “Oh, did you want anything? I just went to the counter out of habit since I always buy Y/n's by default when we go to cafes.” You kick Jake’s shin, annoyed by his attitude and he lets out a strained groan.

Heeseung only smirks, his eyes full of amusement as he ignores Jake’s pathetic attempts at riling him up. “No need, Jake. Y/n already offered but I politely declined.”

The tension in the air is almost palpable, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing instead on keeping the conversation light. Your attempts are futile though as Jake and Heeseung are dead set on staying silent, their gazes crossing from time to time only to throw the occasional dirty look at one another. The only time they open their mouths is to respond to you and you only. But you refuse to let their negative energy affect your night, so you lean back into the booth and let your gaze wander your surroundings, looking for a topic to talk about.

“Oh, is that an automatic piano?” You exclaim, nudging Jake as you lean over to get a better look. Tucked away in the corner of the bustling cafe was a grand piano that seemed to only do so much to fill the already energetic cafe.

Jake follows your gaze, a faint look of recognition on his face, “Oh yeah, I guess it is.”

Heeseung chimes in, “Do you play?”

You meet Heeseung’s gaze, feeling an odd weight in his question. “My parents signed me up for piano lessons when I was seven, but I hated it. I quit as soon as I graduated high school.” You settle back into the booth, closing your eyes so that you could focus better on the piano playing in the background. “Lacrimosa by Mozart.” You murmur.

“I didn’t know you played,” Jake says, genuine surprise flickering across his face.

You shrug, “Well, I hated it so I guess it never really came up. Felt more like a burden than anything. Though I guess I could say it’s a hidden talent of mine.”

Heeseung and Jake exchange a glance when you aren’t looking, too fleeting for you to notice as you finish your drink. Upon the familiar sound of your straw scraping against the bottom of your cup, you frown and get up to excuse yourself. Before you can shuffle around Jake, your phone buzzes- a call from Yeji, asking for you to come over and hang out with her and the girls. “Hey, Yeji asked me to come over and hang out, so I think I’m gonna get going.” You say, shifting around Jake to grab your bag. He swivels his feet out of the booth and you slide past him, waving to them both before leaving the cafe, the scent of your mahogany vanilla perfume lingering in your absence.

When your figure disappears from his view, Heeseung clasps his hands together. “You’re in love with her.” He deadpans, the words striking the air with the bluntness of a hammer.

Jake’s head snaps around, his heart thumping in his chest. “What? She’s my best friend, what do you mean?”

A knowing smirk tugs at Heeseung’s lips and he leans in further, “Because she’s just like Alice.”

The name cuts through Jake’s chest like a knife, an unwelcome reminder of the past he tried so hard to bury. He swallows hard, his voice dropping down to a whisper despite the close proximity of their faces, “I told you to stop talking about this stuff in public.” His voice is almost threatening, annoyance creeping in.

“When did you meet Y/n?” Heeseung presses, insistence evident in his voice.

Jake’s expression hardens as his reluctance grows, “When I was eleven.”

“And when did your memories come back?”

Jake clenches his jaw, realization dawning upon him, “When I was also eleven. But that means nothing.” Silence fills the space as Heeseung leans in even closer, his hands pressing against the table now to trap Jake in between his posture.

“You want to know when I regained my memories?” He asks, face close enough Jake could feel his breath. “When I was six, the moment my parents passed away in a car accident in the middle of a category 3 storm. Just. Like. Alice’s. Parents.” There’s a dangerous venom that drips from Heeseung’s voice now as he closes in on Jake, his hatred for the boy now unrelenting as he reveals the horrors of his past.

Heeseung does his best to control the venom flowing through his veins before continuing, knowing he still had the decency to play nice in a public place like this. “Do you have any idea how many fucking foster homes I went through? How many belts hit my ass because I didn’t clean up the dishes fast enough, or how many nights I spent sleeping outside because I didn’t get an A on my tests?” All the pain, all the unspoken abuse Heeseung went through was coming to light now, and Jake could do nothing but listen to his old best friend relive his past through angry words. “This was my cursed fate, but it seems like you haven’t even started yours.” His glare was enticing now, almost playful.

“You may have loved her enough to break the Guardian Code, but you didn’t pay the price for it like I did. I warned you, but you never listened. And now I’m the one who became a devil for your fucking sins.”

“Heeseung, I- I didn’t know.” Jake stammers, his throat tightening as his words catch, “I really thought we were both still… you know, angels.”

Heeseung scoffs and pulls away from Jake, giving him room to catch his breath. “Of course you didn’t. They thought I was the one that crossed the line, the one that corrupted us. I was the older one, it was me who had to protect us.” Heeseung steps out from the booth, “Watch your back, Sim Jaeyun.”

In his absence, Jake feels the air grow colder as he sits there frozen in his spot. The sound of his heart hammers so hard, he can practically hear it reverberate in his skull, an incessant pounding in the back of his head. The realization has Jake’s guts twisting about, leaving him physically nauseous at the mere thought that this was all because of Jake. He was the one to break the Guardian Code yet he said nothing when they were both dragged down to earth as mortals.

Memories of their time back in Celesta begin to flood Jake’s mind as a cold sweat breaks out across his skin. They had once been inseparable- a special bond between them that kept them joined together at the hip. Jake could recall the countless nights spent under the millions of stars laughing and sparring with Heeseung, exchanging stupid jokes that chipped at one another’s pride, but never the bond between them. Together, they faced every challenge as one, but Jake’s forbidden love severed that bond in an instant the moment he let Heeseung get dragged down to earth with him.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

After leaving the cafe, you feel a weight lift off of your shoulders. Feeling lighter, you make your way to the familiar building of Yeji’s dorm, its boring gray concrete standing in stark contrast to the cafe’s cozy greenery and warm ambience. You spot the iconic purple LED lights illuminating the third floor window on the corner of the building, the familiar color lifting your mood instantaneously as you pull your phone out to let her know you’re here.

Within minutes, a drunken looking Yeji and Ryujin stumble out of the building’s front entrance. “Y/n! Finally, we were waiting for you!”

You slip your arms between theirs as they drag you up the stairs and into their room which was booming with all kinds of music, a playlist including all of your favorites. Lia, sitting cross-legged on the furry carpet raises an eyebrow at you, “We just finished Uno, wanna join the next game?” You excitedly nod, taking a seat down next to her, waiting for your hand to be dealt.

The evening blurs by, beers and coolers in hand as each round of Uno gets more and more chaotic. “Yuna, where are your cards?” Lia asks after Yuna says Uno.

“In the deck?” She says innocently, batting her eyelashes at the older girl.

“Bullshit,” you shout, launching yourself at Yuna as you tackle her, the velocity of your hit causing her body to fall over. Underneath her, a pile of cards fling out and Chaeryoung lets out a loud squeal.

Chaos ensues the moment Yuna’s lame attempt at hiding her cards is revealed, and the game of Una dissipates. “You little cheater!” Yeji gasps, grabbing a pillow to smack over her head. In a matter of seconds, every throw pillow in the room is taken hostage and swung wildly at one another as each girl abandons their decks of cards. Giggles and shrieks fill the hot air, only half of the blows landing due to all of your collectively drunken dazes.

“Alright, I give up!” Yuna gasps through a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as Ryujin and Yeji ravage her with silk pillows.

As the chaos begins to simmer, you find yourself sprawled across Yeji’s dorm room floor alongside Chaeryoung and Lia, each of you glowing with the buzz of alcohol. Around Yeji’s room are pillows scattered everywhere, Uno cards strewn in places they shouldn’t be and beer bottles rolling about. You let out a sigh of content, rolling onto your side. “I should really get going,” you mumble, stretching as you gather your belongings. “But I’ll see you girls later, alright?”

Each one gives you a sleepy farewell and you blow them a kiss, stepping out of the room carefully so as to not bother anyone else on the floor. When you reach outside, you happily welcome the crisp night air as it washes over your hot and sticky skin. It’s enough to help you make your way back to your dorm.

It was about 10:30 p.m. by the time you got back to your dorm. You shake away the faint buzz that runs through your body as you change into a comfortable pajama set, slipping into your bed quickly. Enveloped in the warmth of your bed, you close your eyes, feeling fatigue wash over you rather quickly.

A chilling sensation trickles through your vessels like an icy breeze hitting your bare skin. You open your eyes slowly, only to reveal a very large, empty ballroom stretching out before you. Its floor-to-ceiling windows line the walls, their sheer curtains adorning each window billowing in the wind as if they were calling out to you. In the eerie silence, you hear a creek from above that echoes through the space- a chandelier above you swaying, casting a haunting shadow against your figure while the candles flicker against the wind- fighting to stay alight in the harsh draft.

Cold raindrops string your cheeks like a slap and you raise a hand to your face to shield yourself from its further assault. Glancing around, your gaze catches on an elevated platform, and atop it sits a grand piano, dark in its solitude. Turning your head, you notice a barrage of seats in front of the platform, but not a single one is occupied, as though they were awaiting an audience that had never arrived.

Drawn to the piano, you step closer, but stop when the keys begin to move on their own- a hauntingly familiar melody filling the thick air. The notes claw at your heart as the melody moves through you, guilt dripping in its wake. And as the song plays on, it continues to rip into you for reasons you can’t understand, leaving your heart in an agonizing mess. Desperate for an escape, you tear your gaze away from the moving keys. Looking anywhere but the piano, your gaze darts around the ballroom until your eyes land on a pair of shadowy figures that seem to only vanish as soon as you focus in on them. With a frustrated sigh, you run towards the middle of the ballroom, bunching up the midnight blue gown to your core so you could run faster.

Without warning, the room begins to spin, blurring into a blinding white until you find yourself standing outside- soaking in a torrential downpour. The road seems to stretch on for miles, illuminated only by the distance lightning strikes, each bolt giving you just a second to see before you.

You were drenched now, your beautiful dress now clinging to your body uncomfortably while your skin, which was once warm in color, was now glowing pale from lack of circulation. Shivering uncontrollably, you notice a pair of headlights approaching you, piercing the darkness almost painfully.

With a loud boom, lightning cracks the sky directly in front of you, casting a temporarily bright light on the car. The sudden strike has the car swerving out of control, skidding against the wet road and into a railing as it flips over your head before crashing into the ground with a sickening crunch. A scream tears from your throat and you run to the car, fire emanating from the vehicle as you strain to listen for anything- a cry, a voice. Falling to your knees, you realize there’s only silence.

You crawl around to the front of the car, ignoring the shattered glass that presses into your knees and look into what you believe to be the front of the car. Through the disfigured windshield, you make out two very bloodied figures, slumped in their seats and drained of any warmth in their bodies. Feeling an acidity lurch forward in your throat, you swallow hard and turn away, tightening your stomach uncomfortable as you crawl back to a different spot.

Away from the site, you look down at your hands, horrified to see blood streaming from your arms and down your hands like crimson tears, splashing onto the ground in a haunting fashion. Unable to bear the weight of everything, you close your eyes. In your panic, all sound seems to deafen around you, but the cold downpour of the rain still remains.

Time stretches on endlessly- until a small sound breaks you out of your panic. Opening your eyes, you catch sight of a bottle of pills spilled across the ground. With trembling hands, you pick up the bottle and read the words Valium just before the label begins to blur due to the misting in your eyes. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierces the air and you drop the bottle, gaze jerking upwards.

Standing before you is a girl- practically a mirror of yourself- but her mouth hangs as if it was dislocated and her eyes a pit of darkness. On either side of her stands two shadowy figures, their forms unrecognizable as they slowly encroach upon your space. As they move in on you, the haunting melody begins to play once more.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

“Y/n, are you even listening to me?” Jake asks, poking your side. His voice, once a source of comfort, now a catalyst for a blow out that seemed to be oncoming. Blinking rapidly, you force your eyes on him to focus, “You’re zoning out again!”

“I’m just tired and I have a headache. So please, stop talking.” You plead with the boy, pulling a pair of headphones out from your bag. He frowns, but you do your best to ignore the sparkle in his eyes as you lean into the textbook in front of you, the words blending together in a haze.

It had been six days since that nightmare- six days of on and off sleep, and you were resenting Jake more and more for reasons you couldn’t understand. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but just being in his presence was upsetting you, and the sound of his voice had you reeling with anxiety. The very scent of him had you thinking of that stupid melody.

Thirty minutes go by without a word from Jake, and you almost forget he’s next to you until his familiar voice interrupts the calm silence once more, “Do you know how to do this question?”

“Jake, I think I’m going to go for a walk.” You say abruptly, shoving your things into your bag. Jake watches in utter confusion as you stand up from the table you were studying and stride away, scratching at his head when he watches your figure leave the area. The headache that had begun to recede now starts to pound at an intensity you’ve never felt.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah! where are you off to in such a rush?” A voice calls, and you turn around to see Heeseung approaching you.

“Not right now, Heeseung.” You say bluntly, moving past him without breaking your hurried strides.

“Hey, talk to me.” His voice is low and calming, and you almost feel your heart flutter at the sincerity in his voice. You hesitate, searching his eyes for a sign of that coldness he’s always had since the first day you met him, but you don’t see it. In fact, you see a warmth in him you don’t recognize, but it weirdly eases the tense coil in your gut.

“I just need some air,” You say, a tremor in your voice. Without letting him respond, you continue walking, but a strong grip on your wrist stops you. “H-Heeseung?!”

“I said, talk to me.” Heeseung’s voice drops even lower now, laced with that familiar intensity you knew so well. His stare is almost predatory like, and you feel your breathing become irregular as you cower under his gaze. “Don’t shut me out, Y/n, I don’t like that.”

You tug on your wrist, testing the waters to see if he’ll let you go, but his grip only tightens. “Heeseung, really. I’m ok, I really just need some air.”

“I’ll come with you then.” His words are gentle, but you knew there was some hidden agenda in the way he spoke to you. He starts to walk forward, stringing you along with ease like a silent declaration that you belonged to him.

“Alone, Heeseung.”

“Y/n, you need me, stop fighting it!” Normally, you would feel frustration bubbling beneath you, but his insistence almost has you flushing at the cheeks. Still, the desire for solitude held priority over everything else, outweighing your flutter of confusion.

“Heeseung, she said she wants to be alone right now!” another voice calls and you turn to see Jake. Irritation flares through you, fueling your short resolve.

“Jake, seriously, leave me alone.”

With Heeseung’s attention elsewhere, you seize the opportunity to pull out of his grip and walk off, quickening your pace enough so they don’t run after you. “Watch it, Sim.” Heeseung hisses, fury simmering in his words when he sees your back turned to him.

“You need to listen to what she says.” he snaps back, crossing his arms in defiance as he balances his own irritation. The air around them charges with a tension so thick a knife could cut it.

“I think you should listen to yourself first. Seems like there’s trouble in paradise.” Heeseung’s words drip with disdain as he pokes fun at Jake. “Not so buddy buddy anymore, I see.” Suppressing the urge to smirk, Heeseung turns around and walks away from Jake, leaving him in a can of frustration fixing to burst at any moment.

Back in your dorm, you find that your irritation only deepend with each step you took to get back. Desperate for some relief, you grab a Red Bull and a bottle of vodka, mixing them into a tumblr in attempts at creating a potent cocktail. You damn sure didn’t accomplish any studying today at the Jeffrey building with Jake by your side, and you know you’d need more than just a little caffeine to power you through the night. So you hoped the vodka would keep you pleasantly buzzed as you hit the books, another all nighter.

Settling into bed, you place your laptop on the lap desk Yeji convinced you to buy earlier in the semester, and dive into your studies. For a few hours, you pat yourself on the back as it seems that your concoction is working wonders. But slowly, the weight of staying up for days pulls you under, and you drift off.

Eventually, your nap is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. “Who is it?” You call out, wiping away the cold sweat that clung onto your skin. Another nightmare- though the knocking on your door kept you from finishing this one.

“Jake.”

You sigh, bracing yourself before telling him to come in. “Why are you here so late?” You ask, pointing to your digital clock which reads 12 a.m.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

You glance around your room which was softly illuminated by your glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t been talking to me as much. You’ve been snapping at me a lot, avoiding my calls and texts, and it’s always me initiating the conversations recently.” His words come out in a rush, and for the first time since the nightmares started, you finally feel yourself sympathizing with him.

With a sigh, you sit up in your bed and cross your legs, patting the space next to you for him to come sit. Maybe it was time for you to finally tell him what was going on, you could only keep running for so long. “Jake, I’ve been having these awful nightmares that have been keeping me up at night. It’s been ruining my sleep, so I’ve been pulling away from everyone recently. It’s not just you.”

Your words offer only a small measure of comfort towards Jake, his tense shoulders only half sagging, “That’s not everything, Y/n. You’re not telling me enough.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Jake. Really.”

It’s quiet for a moment, each second stretching out as Jake thinks about what to say. “Okay,” He says softly before moving closer to you. His thighs touch yours as he speaks in a much lower voice now, “Y/n, just promise that you’ll talk to me next time. No secrets, I miss you too much.”

His words seem to stir something deep within you, and you feel that familiar warmth of affection you had held for him before all this chaos and confusion. The tenderness in his gaze- it felt almost foreign now, like you didn’t recognize him. But his words brought that familiarity back to you almost instantly. And he missed you, and that struck a chord within you that had your pulse beating at tenfold.

Without even thinking, you bring your hand to his cheek, cupping it gently and running a thumb over the plush of his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch with a sigh. “Jake…” you whisper, feeling the warmth of his cheek send butterflies through your body. In a matter of seconds, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.

The feeling of his lefts against yours felt almost natural, as if some hidden version of yourself had already loved Jake in another world. So for a moment, you stay like that, your lips lingering on his in a silent exchange of intimacy. When Jake finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far- his forehead opting to rest against yours as his hands cup your face with the same tenderness in his gaze.

“Y/n…” he breaths, looking into your eyes. You match his gaze with an intensity you’ve never felt before and he pushes his lips onto yours again, this time with a passion almost desperate, like he’s been waiting lifetimes for this. “You drive me crazy,” he murmurs between open mouthed kisses, his voice rough with longing. He grazes his tongue along your lower lip and you let him slip it in almost immediately, gasping when the wet muscle tangles with your own.

The sensation leaves you breathless and you weave your fingers through his hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss. He shifts his hands to the back of your head, guiding you down onto your bed so he can slot himself between your legs. With his body pressed between your core, you let out the softest moan, leaving the space in Jake’s sweats tightening. “Jake- I need you…” You please, pulling at his hair.

He lets out a string of groans, instinctively grinding against you as you drag your fingers through his dark locks. “Don’t say that, I won't be able to control myself.” He says as he dips down to press kisses on your neck.

“I don’t want you to control yourself. Take me.” You whisper, your face buried into his hair.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He whispers, his hands slipping underneath your camisole. His cold hands ghost over your breasts, leaving you to shudder at the temperature difference when he finally cups them in his large hands. “You’re so cute when you shake…” He squeezes them firmly, flicking his thumb over your nipple. The unexpected action elicits a high-pitched moan out of you, a sound that seems to only encourage him further.

With a deliberate slowness, Jake pushes your camisole up to your neck, his eyes devouring the site of you laying bare before him. “So pretty…” He murmurs, his tongue tracing the shape of his lips. As he takes in every detail, he moves one of his hands down to your shorts, slipping his fingers under your waist band. “Can I?” He asks, his voice dripping with restraint.

You nod quickly, biting your lip with impatience. “Just fucking touch me already.” You manage to squeak, the tremble in your voice drawing out a low chuckle from Jake as he slides your panties to the side, quickly inserting a finger into your wet cunt.

“Oh my God, Y/n. You’re soaking.” He groans as his finger collects your juices, pumping in and out with lewd sounds. His finger moves in and out with an almost embarrassing ease, the sensation sending sparks through you as you cry out. Receptive to your body’s needs, he inserts a second, then a third finger, quickening his pace. The way your hips lift off the bed to meet his hand has his cock twitching under the restraints of his briefs and sweats, begging to be released.

“Jake- I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, feeling your walls clench around his slender fingers.

“That’s it, angel.” He praises, curling his fingers just right as he feels your walls spasm around his fingers. “Good girl… Just like that.”

His pace slows down significantly as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers, your breathing erratic as his digits continue to bend randomly just out of plain fun. “You did so good for me, angel.” He murmurs as he slips his fingers out of you, cleaning them off with his mouth. The sight alone has you shivering, and before you can speak, he’s got you trapped in a lewd kiss.

You taste yourself on him as your tongues connect, the idea of your arousal being shared in such an intimate kiss is intoxicating and you can’t help but want even more. “Jake…”

“What is it, baby?”

A flush spreads across your cheeks, but at this point, you’re too desperate to care. “I need to feel you,” You reach your hands out for added effect, “I need to feel your cock inside of me.” The whine in your voice is almost embarrassing, but he only lets out a pleased hum in response.

Jake pushes off of you just enough to strip you of your shorts and panties. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down to push his sweats off next, his briefs following right after. You hold your breath when you see his cock spring free, pink and achingly hard due to Jake’s neglect towards himself.

“See how hard you’ve made me, angel?” He whispers, wrapping a hand around himself. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gives himself a few strokes, smirking when he watches your eyes glisten at the sight.

“Hurry up, Jake.” You say, grabbing his wrist. With a soft laugh, Jake lines himself up with your entrance and presses against you, drawing out your desperation. “Please, I need you so bad.” You beg, wiggling your hips for friction.

He sucks in a breath, feeling the pressure of your pussy rub against his tip suddenly, “Be careful, angel.” He says, pulling back slightly to give himself a few more strokes before finally entering. Inch by inch, he pushes himself into you, closely observing your face for any signs of pain. Eventually, he bottoms out and waits for your signal to move.

You tap on his shoulder twice, your silent signal for him to start thrusting. With a relieved sigh, he begins to move his hips back and forth, relishing in the way your walls hug his cock so well. The stimulation of his member rubbing against your walls has you seeing white, and you swear you can practically feel each vein moving against you as he ruts into you.

As time goes on, the snaps of his hips become sharper and sharper. “Augh- Y/n… I’m gonna cum.” He pants, the thrusts becoming messier by the minute.

You can barely manage to cry out a response due to the speed at which he’s thrusting into you, so you just moan instead, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to you. Latching your lips onto his, you feel his hips stutter in rhythm before he stops, a sudden warmth beginning to fill you up.

The stillness of his hips allows you to catch your breath as you smile against him, your arms wrapped around his neck. “That felt so nice, angel.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, slowly pulling out of you and plopping onto the space beside you.

With him laying next to you, his face so close to yours, your mind starts to flood with thoughts that aren’t clouded with lust. His features are softer now, no longer laced with an intensity of desire that you had seen just minutes before. You never thought you would find yourself in a position like this with your childhood best friend, but in this moment, it feels so right. Like it was always supposed to be this way.

All that tension and anger you had felt towards him seemed to have melted away the second he said he missed you. You don’t understand why there was so much resentment to be had in the first place, not after all the nightmares. They were so vivid and dark, so specifically intimate in regards to the pain and loss. You felt as though you would’ve been more keen on reaching out to Jake for some comfort due to the intensity of those nightmares, though to your surprise it was the opposite. But it didn’t make sense, so you could only rationalize your sudden resentment towards him due to your lack of sleep. But it didn’t matter now because everything felt so far away suddenly, all that bitterness and anger- as if it belonged to someone else this whole time.

Right now, you felt an infatuation so strong it almost terrified you- like you would do anything for Jake.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

Your resentment towards Jake has subdued quite a bit since yesterday, though you have yet to speak about what transpired between the two of you since last night. Maybe it was the awkward tension that now lingered between you, finally softening the angry heat you unfairly pushed onto his agenda for so long- you no longer yearned to stray far from his presence in that same way anymore. Still, it was clear that the dynamic between you and your best friend had changed since yesterday, and Heeseung had noticed.

“Y/n, are you feeling better after yesterday?” Heeseung asks, shifting his attention away from the powerpoint on his laptop to catch the subtle exhaustion on your face.

It was just you, Jake, and Heeseung sitting at a table located in the Cornox building, working together to complete the finishing details of your econ project. You dreaded the moment you had to meet up with them today, scoring three energy drinks before coming here.

“I guess I am, yeah,” you reply, though you don’t feel confident in your answer. Exhaustion sticks to you like cling wrap, an annoying pest that won’t go away no matter how much caffeine you ingest. The little sleep you had managed to acquire from falling asleep while studying with that alcoholic concoction in your blood offered you little to no respite; your mind still tangled with the memory of the nightmares and the intimacy you shared with your best friend.

Last night’s nightmare may have been cut short by Jake’s knocking, but it was no less brutal than the last one. The memory of it lingers, raw and fresh in your mind as you replay the scene in your head- a boy and a girl screaming at one another, their voices cracking while that same damn melody plays in the background. They were fighting, though you couldn’t remember why. But it didn’t matter, the fight itself wasn’t what disturbed you; it was the grief that had your heart sinking six feet deep that was all encompassing as you listened to their choked sobs.

The girl’s voice in particular was especially painful, strained and choked with an anguish that felt too real to your own. Every word was like a drag, and it was clear that she was on the edge of something devastating, irreversible. Somehow, you knew that she was losing the will to keep fighting.

You snap out of your thoughts, realizing Heeseung’s eyes are locked onto yours a bit too intently, a dark cloud shrouding his irises. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus down to your laptop as you feel a rush of heat travel to your cheek, Jake stirring in his seat across from you.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Heeseung says in a whisper, his voice laced with an intensity that sends a ripple of uncertainty through you. His hand lands on your arm and he gently rubs it up and down, but the gesture only makes you more uncomfortable, like he’s staking a claim on you. “But I can tell there’s still something on your mind. You know you can always talk to me, right?”

You give him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his mind, “Really, I’m doing fine.” you tell him, ignoring the unease settling in your stomach. You're hopeful that your response will be enough to quell his concern, but it only seems to encourage him to pry further.

“I’m just worried about you… Your happiness is what matters the most to me.” His hand slides down to yours, and before you can pull away, he interlocks his fingers with yours, the coolness of his hand masking the warmth of your own. The gesture feels intoxicatingly intimate, and you freeze at his sudden possessiveness.

Jake’s gaze lingers over the sight of your interlocked hands and he freezes. Clenching his jaw, he forces himself to tear his gaze away before beginning to restlessly tap his fingers on the table, a pathetic attempt to calm his irritation.

“I appreciate it, really.” You murmur, pulling out of his grip. “I’m going to go get a snack, do you guys want anything?” Heeseung bites his lip before settling back into his seat, though his eyes stay sharp as he focuses on your figure. When nobody responds, you pad away, eager to escape the escalating tension growing in the air.

“What are you doing with her? You’re making her uncomfortable!” Jake says, breaking the silence when he sees your figure turn the corner.

Heeseung only smirks, ignoring the glare Jake shoots at him, “I’m not making her uncomfortable, Jake. This is what she needs, and it sure as hell isn't you.” Heeseung stares at the boy in an almost taunting way before continuing, “So whatever the hell you did with her last night? I’d suggest you take a step back before regretting it.”

“Do you not hear yourself? You sound crazy, Heeseung.”

“Crazy?” He murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “Maybe, but that’s what devotion looks like, Jake. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it.”

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

Despite his best wishes, your resentment towards Jake returned in the following weeks following his encounter with Heeseung. As you grew closer with Heeseung, the more calls and texts you ignored from Jake. Your resentment and anger with Jake came back stronger then ever, and there was no amount of explaining or convincing that would manage to make a difference. Every interaction he had with you just felt like you were pulling away even further.

Jake slumps into the couch at the mere thought of you again, staring at the floor as his friends talk about a variety of subjects. “Jake, I know the floor’s interesting but you really need to stop staring at it.” Sunghoon said, flicking Jake on the arm.

“Me and the floor are doing just fine, thanks,” Jake mutters, grabbing a pillow to hug close to him.

“Then why are you staring?” Jungwon asks, nudging him in the side.

Jake ignores his friend. “I’m not,” he grumbles.

“What happened to staring at Y/n?” Niki teases, tossing a throw pillow at Jake to get him to look up.

Jake scowls, suddenly regretting that night he struck up a conversation with them at that party. “First of all, I don’t stare at Y/n. And second of all, nothing happened. We’ve just been busy with midterms and everything.” Jake focuses on keeping his voice neutral as he explains to his friends why he seems so out of it, but they don’t seem to be convinced. He wasn’t lying, nothing really had happened after they slept together. They didn’t even talk about it, but somehow that resentment came creeping back while Heeseung slithered his way in.

Jay and Niki exchange a look, “You don’t look very busy staring at that floor-”

“I’M NOT STARING AT THE FLOOR!” He snaps, patience breaking in two.

Sunghoon’s dorm room erupts into a fit of laughter as Jake does his best to ignore the vibrations of his friend’s joy, trying to calm himself. “I’m just thinking of the best way to get home this fall break. I’m going to visit my family.”

“I think there’s a bus route that passes right by your neighborhood,” Jay says, his chest heaving as he calms down from laughing so hard, “It’s like a five-hour journey though.”

“Yeah, that’s the only issue… the bus ride is gonna suck ass.”

Jake hated riding buses. They always made him motion sick, and even more than that, there was too much time to think when the journeys stretched past 30 minutes. He knew as well as anyone else that there were things weighing heavily on his mind, things he’d rather not confront. But there was no other way to get home. His car was stuck at his parents’ place, and he wasn’t going to spend a break on campus where you and Heeseung would probably be around. So he’d have to make do with the bumpy, five-hour ride.

And bumpy it was. Long too, almost nauseating had it not been for the dimenhydrinate he popped into his mouth twenty minutes before getting on the bus, though it did nothing to quell the sick feeling in his chest when he thought about you and Heeseung. You weren’t even talking to him now, Heeseung was always around to pull you away from him when he got close enough to speak to you. Jake couldn’t deny but admit he felt helpless around Heeseung. There was nothing to do but hope that Heeseung would somehow mess up and that you’d come crawling back to him. With his head against the rumbling window, Jake decides he’d rather not spend the rest of the bus ride dwelling on things he couldn’t change, and shuts his eyes instead.

The plan was for Jake to stay home for a week. Maybe that’d be enough time for you to cold down and figure out whatever it was that you were dealing with. And maybe Jake could even use that time to screw his head on straight too. But more than that, he wanted this time to spend with his family and Layla, his dog that he misses so much. So he welcomed the distraction warmly, his family and dog being a bittersweet reminder of life before Heeseung.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

A week has passed now since Jake came home, and there was still no sign of action from your side, much to Jake’s dismay. The silence between the two of you was deafening, and the flicker of hope that Jake was holding onto was starting to dissipate. It frustrated him to no end not knowing where he stood in your life, and the lack of response to his plethora of texts had him pulling his hair out.

Deciding against boarding the same insufferable bus ride again, he opts to drive the car his dad bought him for his 16th birthday back to campus instead. As he prepares to leave, his mom waves him off at the door. “I’ll see you guys during Winter break,” he says with a forced smile, “Yes, I’ll tell Y/n you miss her. Yes, I will ask if she wants to come visit.”

Jake winces as he says your name and draws in a long breath when he sees his mom reenter his home. With one last look at his childhood home, he starts up his car and travels back to campus, the long and lonely journey giving him some temporary space to breathe.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

“Y/n, isn’t this music box pretty?” Lia calls, waving a wooden box delicately in her hands towards you. You pause, setting the clothes in your hands back down on the table and walk towards her, focusing your gaze on the box in her hands. The box is beautifully worn, Its edges carved with a delicate gold and the mahogany wood bruised and marked by years of handling. Handing the box to you, Lia nods her head in encouragement as if to tell you to open it.

Slowly, you pry the box open, revealing an interior lined with a plush red velvety interior. In the center was a mock stage that sat a delicately crafted figure- a woman sitting before a grand piano, as if to showcase her playing the melody that was to come from the box. “This is beautiful,” you murmur, raising the box closer to your face.

“I think you need to wind it up,” Ryujin says, peeking over.

You flip the box over, closing the lid shut and winding up the cool metal of the notch on the back. With anticipation, you open the lid one more time and watch as the figure that was sitting comfortably on the stage begins to rotate slowly. Then, the melody begins- soft and delicate.

The music plays out softly, but it swells the surrounding area in a dream, wrapping you in a haunting embrace. Each note carries a whisper from a place you can’t quite reach, stirring something unfamiliar within you. As the tune unfolds further, grief begins to settle deep beneath your skin and you start to feel goosebumps prick at your arms.

This melody sounds awfully familiar. Closing your eyes, you wrack your brain, listening intently in hopes of hearing that one note that may resonate within you and tell you why it sounded so familiar. This melody… It was the same one from that dream. The shadowy figures, the spotlight, the grief… These same notes brought forth the same emotions from that dream, a subtle reminder of something buried yet not forgotten. The box suddenly feels heavier than it needs to, almost as if it’s absorbing the weight of your emotions now, each note twisting a blade further into your chest.

A disturbing chill runs down your spine as you realize that this wasn’t just some music box, but a piece of your past. A fragment of your past- one you couldn’t remember. “Y/n, are you alright?” A voice draws you out from your inner turmoil, and you turn to see Ryujin looking at you with concern.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, waving her concern off quickly, “I’m ok, just so invested in the music. I think I’m gonna buy the box, actually.” You tell her, tucking it into your basket. Ryujin returns your response with a nod, though her eyebrows remain furrowed. With the music box tucked away in your basket, you finish shopping at the vintage shop with the girls until they’re satisfied. You do your best to try and stay present, though the haunting melody of the music box stays playing in a loop in your head, each note barely scratching an itch you can’t quite reach.

You’re in a daze as you reach the register, whether it be from the lack of sleep or the sudden revelation of the melody, you’re not too sure. When you leave, the girls are discussing amongst themselves which store they want to visit next, but you’re quick to wave them off and tell them you’re heading home. “Just feeling tired, that’s all.” You tell them, but you knew that was a lie. You needed to speak to Jake.

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since break had started, which had been a week and a half now. You’re aware that your resentment had led him to going back home for break, though Jay had reached out to you recently to let you know he came back to campus yesterday.

Ever since your nightmares had started, you could feel this growing resentment towards him, whether you could explain it or not, you just couldn’t stand to see him. Though there was a period of time in which the walls around you had fallen down for just a few days after a flurry of emotions led you to sleeping with him. It didn’t last long as Heeseung slipped in and rebuilt that wall brick by brick with a possessiveness that everyone except you could see. But this melody, it irked you to reach out to him, so you did. You don’t waste a moment texting him to come over as soon as you get back to your dorm.

His reply is almost instant: on my way.

He’s knocking on your door within minutes, not bothering to use his key in your room because honestly, he’s not sure he has that liberty right now. You call out to let him know to come in, and when he does, you see a sad puppy eyed looking Jake enter. Old you would’ve teased him about it and pulled him into a tight embrace, but now, you’re showing him your music box almost immediately.

Without a word, you wind up the familiar notch and open the lid, letting it fill the small space. As it does, you watch as Jake’s expressions shift almost immediately, his eyes darkening and his body going rigid. “You know this melody, don’t you?”

He walks over to your bed, sitting on the edge. With a swallow, he nods his head before dropping it into his hands. He clenches his jaw, knowing you won’t talk until he explains himself, “This is the same song Alice was going to play that night.”

“Alice?” You echo, your confusion only growing, “What the hell are you talking about? Who the fuck is Alice?”

He looks away, his eyes searching the room as if to look for an escape. His hands run up and down his thighs in an anxious manner as his breathing quickens, “Y/n, it’s not easy for me to explain… I don’t know if you’ll trust me after, or even believe me for that matter.”

You can feel the frustration rising and you scoff, “I’m past caring at this point, Jake. I’ve been having nightmares for weeks.” You bring your hands to your hair, your eyes misting with tears. “I can’t sleep, can’t think straight. And this fucking melody- It’s driving me insane.”

Jake’s eyes flicker with a hint of sympathy, but he holds back the urge to reach out and cradle your cheeks with his large hands. Instead, he holds your frustrated gaze with his own, “Y/n, Heeseung and I… We’re Guardian Angels. Or, we were.”

You feel a wave of disbelief ripple through your body and you let out a pathetic laugh, “Shut up.”

“Fine.” He deadpans, his jaw tightening in annoyance as he crosses his arms. God, you knew he could be stubborn, but you didn’t know he was this stubborn. You smack his arm and he winces, rolling his eyes before continuing. “A long time ago, Heeseung and I were Guardian Angels, best friends too. We were assigned to protect a girl named Alice. But Y/n, we failed her. Our selfishness blinded us and she died.” He pauses, voice wavering as if he’s fighting to continue. A harsh weight settles across your chest, and you struggle to keep eye contact with your best friend, “Our selfish actions led to the death of her parents, and she killed herself after because of it.

“When she died, we were kicked out of Heaven and sent here as mortals with a curse on our shoulders as punishment.” Jake tries his best to explain, pausing at awkward moments and clicking his tongue when he can’t find the right words, “You’re Alice, or really just her reincarnation- carrying bits and pieces of her memories. I think these nightmares are your way of regaining your memories. It was kind of like this for me as well.”

When he presses his lips together, you know he’s finished speaking and your heart swells up in anger. You stare at him, mind swirling in a mess of thoughts as your voice gets caught in your throat. “So you- you knew?” Your voice shakes as you stand up from your bed, “You knew this whole time I was having these dreams- these fucking nightmares, that I was reliving the past of someone’s life that isn’t mine? You didn’t say anything?”

Jake lowers his head, tears pricking his eyes now, “I… I thought I was protecting you.” he whispers.

“Protecting me?” You laugh obnoxiously loud, the lack of sleep hitting you like a truck. You fall to the ground, clutching your bed side table for balance, practically sobbing hysterically now, “Well you did the damn opposite, Jake.” The way his name falls from your lips has him physically flinching. “I’ve been suffering, doing everything I can to not fall asleep. My grades are falling apart because I can’t stay awake in class long enough to pay attention.”

Jake stands off from your bed and crouches down next to you, placing his hand on your arm in an attempt to console you, but his sudden touch only has you recoiling backwards. “I was being selfish, Y/n. Please, I love you.” He cries, “I didn’t want to lose you again.”

“Lose who?” You ask, letting out a bitter laugh as you stand up. “You never let me decide, did you?”

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

You pound on Heeseung’s door, not a care in the world for the other rooms closely neighboring his own. Your own festering anger practically bubbling up your throat, you continue your assault on the wooden door until a tired looking Heeseung opens up. “What the hell-” He starts, but you shove him inside, slamming his door behind you.

His dorm room is an assortment of black and red, feeling more like a dark lair than a college dorm. This was your first time in his dorm, and you noticed how he took it upon himself to cover the bright white walls with crimson themed posters and red LEDs to decorate its borders.

Ignoring the creepily gothic trinkets that adorned his desk, you approach him with anger. “Who the fuck is Alice?” You seethe, shoving him onto his desk chair.

His own responding smirk has you fighting to not punch him right then and there, “I see you spoke to Jake,” His voice is soft, almost too soft to be speaking to someone approaching him with such anger. Standing up from his chair, he steps towards you, the heat from his body engorging your flame, igniting it further. “Tell me, vixen… What did little Jakey tell you?”

“He told me everything,” You take a deep breath in as you let the words tumble out of you in a rush, “How you two used to be angels, that you both made some ‘selfish decision’ with some girl named Alice. And that I’m-” Your voice catches, and Heeseung brings his hand up to your chin.

“Go on, continue.”

“He said that I’m her.”

Heeseung’s smirk seems to drop for a second, surprise flashing across his face, but he’s quick to recover. “Selfish decisions,” he says to himself, voice thick with amusement, “So that’s what he calls it.” He pauses to let out a bitter laugh, pulling away from you despite your inner reluctance. “Did he tell you that we were actually in love? Did he tell you what loving Alice cost me?”

The look on your face only confirms Heeseung’s answer. “Jakey, so naive… And did he tell you that he loved you, too?”

You nod, your own admission twisting something inside of you. His smirk only widens, and you feel your anger bubble further as you wait for Heeseung to speak again. “Oh, sweetie.” he whispers, “Jake doesn’t love you. He loves Alice.”

“You’re lying…” You say, stumbling back as you process his words.

“Am I?” He asks. “I have reason to believe that Jake didn’t tell you the full story.”

You avoid his gaze, closing your eyes in an attempt to shut out the reality before you. Observing your delicate state, Heeseung steps closer, catching you around the waist and pulling you in with a strong grip that sends goosebumps along your skin. “Michael, or what some may know him as the Archangel, transformed us into mortals. Though Jake got to stay linked to his angel hierarchy, I was unfairly condemned into life as a mortal devil.

You look up at Heeseung, briefly fazed by the intimate distance he has put you in before stammering, “What- what do you mean?”

“What I mean, is that Heaven is not always, just. That I am the one paying for Jake’s sins when it was him who was the direct cause of Alice’s tragedy.”

“I don’t believe that, Jake would never do such a thing.” Despite the words that fall from your mouth, a gnawing doubt creeps into your mind, making it harder for you to believe them yourself.

Heeseung’s gaze sharpens, an enticing calmness in his voice, “Y/n, you’re the reincarnation of Alice, which means you’re here for one thing and one thing only.”

Before you can utter a response, he pulls you in closer, his arms wrapping around you tighter than they ever have. His hips are pressing against yours now, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “I don’t understand…” you murmur, unable to tear your eyes away from his lustful gaze.

His eyes lower, his intense a seeping poison as he pierces your soul, “You’re here to do what Alice couldn’t,” His proximity overwhelms you as his lips hover just inches from yours, “We can be immortals together, we just need a sacrifice.” His voice is almost desperate now as he talks about immortality, a wish only mortals could ever dream of.

The room almost spins as you process Hesseung’s words, your mind reeling with a plethora of thoughts. “Immortals? Both of us?” You question, feeling faint as the revelation of your reality slams into you.

“Y/n, you’ve never just been a human, not entirely. You’re Alice’s reincarnation, and you carry an ability no other human mortal does.” He says almost matter of factly, like you were supposed to just understand that at face value. “If we end Jake’s life, we’ll earn the right to escape our own. You’ll be free from this nightmare.”

“I just don’t understand. What happens to us if he dies?”

His breath catches in his throat as he thinks of his next words carefully. “We won't ascend back to being angels, our path is different.” Heeseung’s eyes darken as he answers your question.

“Different how?”

“We’ll become immortal devils, Y/n. But we’ll be with each other forever, knowing that we avenged Alice.” With Heeseung’s answer, you swear you could feel the room get colder. His proposition wasn’t just about getting revenge, but a lifetime of something eternally darker. “It’s either this, or you both face a life of torture chosen by fate.”

A harsh shiver rips through you as you realize the weight of what Heeseung is asking of you. A surge of conflicting emotions crashes through you, but there’s something darker that simmers just beneath the surface. A part of you is almost intrigued by the idea. Despite the alarm bells sounding in the back of your head, you find yourself suppressing the sounds, nodding before you can think. “Am I really just here to get revenge for Alice? Is that all I’m here for?”

Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk, leaning even closer than he was before. Now, with his breath fanning against your lips, you can’t help but press your thighs against each other as a warmth spreads below. “The world may have made you an instrument for her revenge… but I can give you purpose. Let me make you mine. Give me all of you.”

With a sudden and intense pull, he presses his lips against yours fiercely, the kiss rough and urgent as though he was marking you- claiming you. You respond with equal fervor, your arms pulling him in by the neck as you open your mouth, letting his tongue greet yours. As your tongues fight for dominance, his hands slide down to your ass, gripping them with a strength that you’re sure will leave bruises in the morning. “You drive me insane/” He growls, pulling away to shove you onto his bed.

“Take your clothes off.” He commands, stripping himself of his shirt, his belt and pants coming off right after with practiced ease. Blinded by desire, you follow his lead and slip out of your clothes, feeling overwhelmed by his gaze as it rakes over your bare skin with an unrestrained hunger. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, do you understand?”

You manage a weak nod, though it doesn’t satisfy him in the slightest. His hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing in his dorm room. “Use your words, slut.” He growls, his voice rough with callus.

“Yes, Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice low with submission as the burn from his hand begins to sear through your body.

Satisfied with your response, he crawls over you, his bare chest brushing against you before flipping you over onto your stomach. Without warning, he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself forward, using your slick as lube. As his length pushes into you, a gasp rips from your throat upon feeling his member violently stretch you out all at once. “Hee, it’s- it’s too much!” You gasp, a sob of pleasure and pain wracking your body as you’re forced to yield to his cock filling you up completely.

“Fucking take it, slut.” He curses, slamming his hips into yours at a savage pace, disregarding your pleading. With a groan of pleasure, he leans forward to press his chest into your back, forcing you into his mattress. He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, his balls slapping against your core as he thrusts in and out. “You’re doing so well, y/n.” He praises, pressing kisses on your ear, noticing the clench of your pussy let up as you finally relax around him.

He finally gets off of you, giving you a little more room to breathe “Look at you, sucking me in so well,” he coos, leaning back so he can watch his cock slip in and out of you. In an act of pure lust, Heeseung reaches forward to grab your arms, pinning them behind you while using his other hand to press your head further into his bed. “Taking me so well,” he moans, reaching the hilt of your cervix as he adjusts himself, allowing him to push deeper into you.

With your sobs muffling into his sheets, Heeseung lets go of you and wraps his arms around your waist to flip you, quickly aligning himself between your legs. With a practiced quickness, he shoves himself back into your swollen cunt, his own moans mixing with yours. With his pelvis kissing the back of your thighs, you desperately claw at his back for purchase, “S-slow down, Heeseung!” You beg, feeling a coil tighten around in your stomach.

“Just a little longer, vixen.” He encourages, snapping his hips into you even faster.

“I’m gonna cum, Hee!” You clench around his member, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. He doesn’t stop though, in fact, he pushes your legs together to lay against his shoulder, picking your ass up off the bed to buck into you even deeper.

“Fuck, just hold on a little bit more, vixen. I’m almost there,” he says as he clenches his jaw, feeling the way his balls clench up in anticipation. In just a matter of seconds, he’s emptying his load into you as he presses desperate kisses into your calf, lightly biting you in between each kiss.

A shiver of pleasure runs through you as his warmth fills your core, and you close your eyes, savoring the sensation as he lets himself soften inside of you. Moments later, he carefully pulls out, running to grab a towel so he can catch whatever drips out of you. His touch is gentle as he tends to you, softly prodding at your swollen folds as he collects his arousal into the towel. Once he’s finished, he slips into a pair of loungewear and tosses you one of his shirts and your panties, his scent overwhelming your senses.

Settling back into bed, he opens his arms out for you to crawl into, and you do so with a large smile. Laying your head on his chest, you let out a long sigh of content and rest your hand on his abdomen. “Y/n…” he says, tangling his fingers through your hair. You hum out a response, closing your eyes. “Will you join Hell with me?”

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

A piercing ringtone jolts Jake from a heavy but dreamless sleep, the screen of his phone lighting up to illuminate the room. He reaches his hand out from the warmth of his comforter to fumble around his bedside, searching blindly until he finds his phone. “What the…?” He mutters, squinting at the brightness as he picks it up to check the caller ID.

“Jake?” Your voice trembles through the speaker, hardly recognizable through the thick layer of distress.

Jake blinks, his grogginess fading away fast as he registers the shakiness in your voice. “Y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

A broken sob tears through you as you respond, twisting his gut in half, “I’m sorry I blew up on you,” you murmur, your voice thick with regret, “I went out with the girls to some club to let off some steam… But I can’t find them now- I just want to go home.” A choked sob catches at your throat, and Jake winces.

“Where are you? Send me your location, I’m calling an Uber.”

“No!” You cry, your voice dripping in desperation. “The storm is too heavy for Uber to be in service right now.” He looks out through his window where rain streaks the glass in torrents, driven hard by the wind that shakes the reinforced glass. “Can’t you come get me? I really need you…”

A heavy silence follows on the line as Jake listens to the heavy thunder rumble through his building, a menacing growl undercutting his hesitation. He knew it’d be dangerous to go out and get you in this weather, but the thought of leaving you out there- drunk and alone, that mere thought had guilt eating away at his chest. “Shoot, okay. I’m on my way.”

Grabbing the first hoodie he sees on the floor, he runs out of the door, not bothering to slip out of his pajamas. As he slams the door to his car and starts the engine, another flash of lightning illuminates the campus, casting an electric glow in front of him. A haunting tremor rips through him as the all too familiar scene unfolds in front of thim. This is for you, focus Jake.

He grips the wheel till his knuckles turn white, pulling out of the residential parking lot until he reaches the rain-soaked road, just 8 miles until he’d reach you.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

Miles away from where Jake’s car is likely struggling through the storm, you lie nestled in Heeseung’s arm, his steady warmth a stark contrast to the violence of the world outside. The faint glow of your phone illuminates your face in the darkness of Heeseung’s dorm room, casting shadows on Heeseung’s gaze as he studies you intently, a glint of pride mingled with something far darker.

“You did so well, my sweet vixen.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with a seductive danger. His lips graze the side of your head as he places a chaste kiss to the side of your head, but it's charged with an intense desire. He lifts his head to gaze out of his window, watching the storm rage on with a deeply satisfied expression, his hand trailing down your arm to trace slow and deliberate patterns along your bare arm.

The storm outside has grown merciless now, lightning ripping across the sky with a savage frequency. You watch as the harsh light outlines Heeseung’s sharp features, presenting his expression to you in an almost otherworldly glow. You bite your lip, a conflicting storm brewing in your chest as you dwell upon the twisted satisfaction in knowing your vengeance is shared with Jake now, but also the guilt that tears at your resolve knowing you’ve put your best friend in utter danger.

As your mind starts to waver, Heeseung flickers his gaze downward in time to catch your doubt, his thumb tracing along your cheek in order to ground you. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers, his voice soft though commanding, “This is what he deserved, for ruining Alice. For ruining you.”

His words cut through you like a blade, a bitter reminder of why you’re here- why you even exist. You were never meant to be anything more than an instrument for a dead girl’s revenge, forged by the sins of Jake who let his forbidden love blind him from his duties. His desperate selfishness was your reason for existence, and it made you feel like a curse.

An anger ripples through you as you remind yourself that your fate was decided long before you were even born, but you tell yourself that being bound to Heeseung through a shared destiny that could only be fulfilled by Jake’s death would give you that liberation you so desperately needed. Even though your immortality would be granted in the form of becoming devils, you knew that you’d finally be free. Released from this tornado of a mess you didn’t sign up for.

Heeseung’s grip tightens around your wrist, pulling you in closer. His gaze sears into you as though he can see every doubt crossing your mind. “Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about the stupid deal. Just look at me.” The roughness in his voice forces your gaze on his and you note a darkness clouding his vision as he speaks. “We are meant to be together, no matter what happens- so stop thinking about everything.”

This would all be over soon. In the blink of an eye, you and Heeseung would grow horns and descend from the mortal world, bound by the blood of an angel, forever entwined in a twisted act of vengeance.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

It’s only a few hours later when you receive a call from an unknown number, pulling you away from Heeseung’s warm embrace. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/n L/n?” A voice asks from the speaker's phone.

“Speaking.”

You look to Heeseung and place the phone on speaker, putting the device between you two. “You were listed as the first emergency contact for Sim Jaeyun. We regret to inform you that he passed away in a fatal car accident on road 29 about two hours ago.”

The voice continues to drone on about legalities and visiting hours in the morgue, but you don’t listen. The voice on the phone pales in comparison to the sound of your now throbbing heartbeat as you fixate your gaze on the linen bed sheets of Heeseung’s pathetically made dorm bed, waiting for the call to hang up. When it does, Heeseung draws his fingers under your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/n…”

You look at his eyes in search of something- anything. You didn’t know what you wanted to find- relief, empathy, satisfaction, regret even? But his face is unreadable as he stares back at you. “Heeseung…” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I know, it’ll be okay.” He says, pulling you into a tight hug. “He was my best friend too.” He tells you, more to himself than you. His voice feels empty, barely audible as he recalls the memories he shared with Jake from another lifetime- one that was filled with laughter and promises that they had long since broken.

You cling onto Heeseung, pressing yourself closer in a desperate attempt for comfort as a massive wave of guilt washes over you, and for a second you feel like you made the wrong choice. Jake was your best friend, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if this line with Heeseung was something you shouldn’t have crossed. Your friendship with Jake was indescribable, he was your home- and it felt wrong for you to be in a world without him.

But as your heart continues to ache for Jake, your grief quickly begins to shift into something much colder. Anger begins to simmer just below the surface, violently shaking your insides to the point you almost feel nauseous. The memory of what Jake did- how he shattered your life- Alice’s life. The way he drove you to kill yourself, to give up on what you loved the most. Any sorrow you ever felt for him, any bond you ever shared- it dimmed with every beat of your heart until there was nothing left.

Heeseung pulls away from you just enough for him to look into your eyes. His irises search your own, to see whether or not your heart was matching his- and when he finds his answer, he smirks. “Do you feel it?” he whispers, “It’s starting, Alice.”

[chubsonthemoon]

Another jayvik book!!! This is the incredible divine alchemy of the self, by r0sie_p0sies.

This fic was recommended to me by dear friend @ilgaksu and holyyyyy shit. It was written pre-s2 and yet somehow ends up in the exact same emotional place as the finale; the similarities range from larger scene beats all the way down to certain dialogue choices. Rosie just gets these characters, through and through!

As usual, process chatter under the cut!

It's fitting for a jayvik book that this first attempt was chock-full of experiments and new techniques! This is my first hardcover quarto Legal size, which I really loved doing. I also finally have a proper finishing press, so I was able to properly round and back a book for the first time! The shoulders are a little weak, so I'm hoping to improve when I make Rosie's author copy. I also used my foil pen for the first time and handwrote the little blurb on the back.

Most exciting, this was the first time I tried an inset! I used some of my favorite blue Momi marbled paper; rectangle placement is heavily inspired by one of @pleasantboatpress's gorgeous binds. Loveee me a good rectangle, heh. I thought an inset was fitting for this story; as you can probably tell from the title, the fic is all about transforming oneself--through grief, through illness, through love. I wanted this to be a book of contrasts--stark white for a kind of blank canvas (also a nod to Viktor's hexcorized dolls in s2), blue and gold for magic/hextech. Here's an abridged version of what I sent Rosie while chatting about design (please picture me as that It's Always Sunny conspiracy meme, but in DMs):

The framework of the fic being alchemy, creation, a literal step-by-step guide for how to create something divine, is something I really want to explore! I really like the idea of this kind of blank canvas casing + swirling paper inset. All the love and life and messy tendrils of illness surrounded by this...blank divinity. That divinity as a medium, a container, for the complicated human experience. But also the inverse--the blankness of the canvas drawing attention to the brilliant blue/gold of the inset. The bright light shining through the windows of their living room in the ending scene juxtaposed with the moment of their (possible? wonderfully ambiguous?) deaths; those two moments being, in many ways, the same. A window into their lives loving each other, seen from both the outside and within. *insert lots of keyboard smashing*

Interiority and vulnerability were also two themes I wanted to convey. So with that theme in mind, I tried something very, very new to me, and thought, fuck it, let's try to use paper vellum for the endpapers:

You're not really supposed to use paper vellum for endpapers because 1) it wrinkles and curls like all hell and 2) since it's translucent, it means you can see the inside of the boards and the tapes. But for this bind, I decided to lean into that effect--I scribbled the four stages of the alchemical process (the framework of the fic's chapters) onto the boards so you could see them when you opened the book (I wanted to evoke jayvik's "mad scientists" vibe lol); I cut the supporting linen tapes into points (a nod to the rune Viktor carves into his leg brace) and painted them gold so they'd stand out more (they reminded me of Vik's spine brace; I mean hell, they're literally sewn into the spine of the book for extra support. It felt criminal to not incorporate them in some way!); I tried to be more intentional with the glue brushstrokes while casing in to give the paste-down a more painted effect; and finally, probably the thing that was hardest to let go (and which I'm still a little unsure about, to be honest), I let the damn endpapers wrinkle, for more ~texture.~

The overall effect is something I'm still mulling over, even as I write this--it kind of goes against everything I've learned as a bookbinder, and almost makes me feel (or rather, the book feel lol) naked. These are the parts of the book you aren't normally supposed to see, put on display the moment you open it. But! I think that even if it's not the strongest from a design perspective, I think thematically, it works. Reading this fic made me feel like I was being carved open, so I wanted the experience of reading the book to be a little vulnerable, too. Also: beauty in imperfections, right? :3

Aaand that's all for today! A million thanks again to Rosie for letting me bind her wonderful work <3

And once more for the road: you can read divine alchemy of the self on ao3!

[hamliet]

Jentry Chau Vs Netflix

So, I watched Jentry Chau Vs. The Underworld.

If you like beautiful (and unique) animation, complex storytelling, themes of coming of age and grief, and references to my favorite band (shout out NCT127), this is a story you should definitely check out. I would recommend it highly, even though I'm going to critique later on in this review.

Complex People and Complex Love

Gugu was a very complex character whom you could both hate as someone who was clearly manipulating Jentry in an almost unforgivable way after doing the unforgivable to her family. And yet, the series opening literally had Gugu sacrificing her life for Jentry, so no matter what was revealed, you always had to handle the uncomfortable reality that Gugu really loved Jentry.

And therein the series explored complexities in love and life, an understanding that comes with growing up and brings on its own grief. The people who raise us, our heroes, turn out to have their own lives and worlds too, their own motivations, that are often not exactly altruistic. We are not at the center of their world as much as we, as children, thought we were.

Jentry's wrestling with her relationship with Gugu was complex and interesting. The handling of Gugu's character was consistently the best in the series, and I loved it even if I'm still not sure I like Gugu. That's a good character--someone you're left pondering the legacy of.

Grief

Jentry working through her grief was a major theme of the series--grief for her parents, and grief for Gugu, not just in terms of her actually dying (which does happen), but in terms of her understanding of who Gugu was and who her parents were.

Jentry's grief journey contrasts with Gugu's grief for Iris and of course Cheng's for Xiao Lan. Which is why Jentry reaching out and healing her inner child through saving Xiao Lan was ultimately a beautiful way of handling her arc. She saw a child who was scared and didn't know what was going on, and destructive in that pain, and saved her.

If you look at the series, Gugu was scared and didn't fully understand the consequences of her actions and destroyed Jentry's family as a result. Kit was scared and didn't understand how to be human and was destructive in that pain.J entry too grieves Kit and projects that fear onto the possibility of losing Michael, which leads to a rift in their relationship. And some of that fear is not understanding who they wanted to be. To quote C.S. Lewis after the death of his wife:

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. 

Grief and fear intertwine in many ways in Jentry Chau, including through Moonie allowing herself to be possessed by the Mogui to get her husband back. This also then leads to Gugu's second death.

Gugu's farewell at the end had me full-on sobbing. In a sense, Jentry's entire arc throughout the story is a symbolic way of working through her grief for Gugu, settling with her accepting via choosing to focus on Gugu's love for her, and carrying her memory on in a literal form (the necklace). After accepting Gugu loved her, Jentry loses her fear of the underworld and her powers, and her fear of losing the people closest to her as well.

A Soul Is What You Choose

Jentry's ultimate power isn't burning, but it's being able to see people for whom they want to be. Kit and being human. Ed and being scary. Michael and joining the band.

In a world where everyone, demon or human, is trying to be what they think they need to be, trying to please others, Jentry asks them to be who they want to be, to live how they want to live.

The Best Character and the Worst Writing: Kit

Kit is by far the most compelling character. He's continually sympathetic (while Gugu is somewhat not), conflicted, and torn between how desperately he wants to be human and the inhuman acts he believes he has to commit to be one. Plus, he doesn't understand what it means to be human, nor the complexities of human relationships.

The scene where he helps Jentry create a skinsuit is really a metaphorical sex scene--like fairly obviously. It isn't subtle.

It starts in a bedroom (and yes, animators know what they're doing when they choose setting and objects).

Then we have talking about looking under layers.

Then we have some yonic symbols and this.

Like. And he uses a knife (a traditionally phallic symbol), and the next thing we see is cloth falling... with literal the next frame being clothes (ie, clothes coming off).

Sticking a brush (another traditional phallic symbol) in a vat of wet paint (yonic).

Kit: I've never done this before. It's strange. Jentry: I stand by what I said in class. You do have a soul, and you're more human than you know.

Also note the hand clasped position.

It ends with them literally "becoming one" in Kit embodying a Jentry skin to help Jentry uncover the truth--in other words, they help each other be human.

Which is why what happens next really doesn't make storytelling sense, and is actually kinda offensive.

Love Triangle: What Not To Write

The love triangle pretty clearly was supposed to represent Jentry's links to the supernatural (via Kit) and her links to the human world (via Michael). Great potential for a love triangle, a trope I generally hate because it's almost never well done.

This was not well done. What makes it even more frustrating is that it had a ton of potential to be well done via the thematic and symbolic potential.

Having Kit suddenly go aggressive ex who can't take "no" for an answer was lazy writing, nonsensical within the characters they'd set up, and offensive. Offensive, primarily, because you absolutely should never introduce a triggering element like, oh, harassment and controlling men if you don't plan on dealing with it in the story. And they didn't. At all.

The only reason that element was there was to resolve the love triangle in a clear way--oh, Jentry should be with Michael because Kit acted threatening, even though he never had before. That's just bad writing, because if there's a clear choice in a love triangle, you gotta actually write it. Make Michael the more compelling love interest. (More on how they didn't do this later.)

The entire sequence with Kit makes no sense. Jentry tells him he's actually "hundreds of years old," parroting Tumblr-esque anti arguments about Twilight and every other paranormal love story ever. Except, the story had always explicitly framed Kit as a child being abused by Cheng and "parented" by puppets. His journey to understand who he was, that he mattered, that he could be a human too, was clearly a coming-of-age story.

You don't tend to end coming-of-age stories with death, but they did, pretty much because after the threatening scene there was no coming back.

Plus, Jentry's treatment of Kit actually was pretty bad. Now, there's never an excuse for a threatening ex, but--Kit was right about her hypocrisy in terms of how she treated demons like Ed and himself, something that Jentry isn't really asked to reckon with.

If they wanted Jentry to end up with Michael, that's fair, but her decision was taken away from her because they just decided to stamp Kit with a lazy and offensive development and then kill him off in a redemptive death that emphasizes everything that can go wrong with that trope.

Michael Deserved Better

I feel like they didn't know entirely what to do with Michael. He started off with a cool arc, torn between his desire to be a band geek and his talent for football. His indecision leading to conflict with Stella and Jentry was also a great flaw, especially given that he also has visions of the future. An indecisive teenager with precognition has a ton of potential.

But, Michael's arc vanishes after the festival. Instead he's just... kinda there. Jentry chooses him because she wants to be a normal, human girl. But this isn't a good reason, because she's not (and arguably, he's not either!). Yet this isn't unpacked--the idea that everyone in this triangle is both human and supernatural, to varying degrees.

One interesting idea I spotted during the scene where Kit (as Jentry) gets asked out by Michael is that--well, it's a romantic-coded scene with two men, even if Kit turns him down for Jentry.

But it also coming on the heels of the metaphorical sex scene kinda seemed to almost hint at a throuple. Plus the scene after Kit's death where Jentry views them as merging, and where Michael expresses that Jentry views them the same. This would have actually been a very interesting turn for the story to take in future seasons, if they get those (especially since Stella x Tokki is apparently a thing?).

Because ultimately:

Netflix: The True Enemy

Honestly, almost all of the writing flaws I've talked about come down to the writers just not having enough time. If they had a guarantee of further seasons, they wouldn't have needed to rush to finish the love triangle. They wouldn't have needed to kill Kit. They wouldn't have needed to abort Michael's arc and conflict with Stella.

And really, Netflix continues to disappoint me in emphasizing just how much they focus on profits and money over art. They prefer fast food over an actual nutritious meal. They give shows like one season to get record ratings and if they don't, they get axed. Of course writers are going to rush to cram their story into a single season, because there's no guarantee of another season. Series aren't given any leeway to explore their interesting elements, or to find their footing. It's bad for art. However, Warner Bros exists so Netflix can't fully win the crown for worst example of capitalistic corporations killing art just yet.

I continue to be disappointed that series with no actual story that the writers want to tell (merely a concept of a plan) get renewed for seven seasons based on the writer's reputations (that they then tank with their terrible non-writing) while interesting stories with beautiful art and animation, complex ideas on grief and growing up, have to scramble to beg for another season.

[blueblossomrose]

Hey I just send this parents series,I could ask for one with the idea parents interacting with Orpheus

- Anon 🍎

Of course! Here we go 🕊

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Shrouds being extremely caring and protective grandparents, post-canon, fem!afab!MC, fluffy, broken humor.

Art not mine.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome! ♡

To start, it is necessary to understand that Orpheus is they only grandson.

Due to the sad and traumatic events with Ortho, Idia's closed-off personality and the family curse, Mr. and Mrs. Shroud did not have much hope of having grandchildren, even though they wanted them.

So when Idia showed up dating MC, they were to the point of setting off fireworks.

They almost did, but Mr. Shroud convinced Mrs. Shroud to save the fireworks for when they gain a grandchild.

As stated in resume hcs, they absolutely loved MC and couldn't accept even the thought of Idia breaking up with her. No way.

When the wedding came, they were happy, ecstatic, very joyful.

And then, the most anticipated news of the millennium for the Shroud family: MC was pregnant!

Mrs. Shroud immediately shouted: "ORTHO! BRING ON THE FIREWORKS!"

Meanwhile, Idia: ☠️

He already knew what this would probably entail from now on.

Mr. and Mrs. Shroud are very loving and protective grandparents. Especially on Mrs. Shroud's part, as she is more outspoken about it.

But Mr. Shroud isn't far behind either. He doesn't use many words, but his actions say how much he loves his grandson. Orpheus has absolutely everything he wants, whenever he wants it. His grandparents buy him anything, and create things for him.

Again, Orpheus is they only grandson. Everything that happened to Ortho and Idia in the past still affects them, even if they've gotten better at dealing with it over the years. But they make it clear that having Orpheus in the family is no way to replace Ortho or anything like that.

Having Orpheus in the family is they own blessing, a hope. Being part of the Shroud family for many years is considered a curse, for obvious reasons, in a way it really is. But being together there proved that it doesn't have to be like that all the time.

They learned how to better deal with the curse over the years, mainly with Idia's internal research, which brought some temporary solutions that were sufficient.

So when Orpheus was born, the situation was different, more favorable.

They are the kind of grandparents who will always defend their grandchild. Yeah Idia, you want to scold your son? Don't try that while the Shroud grandparents are visiting.

They won't let you scold their baby boy.

Orpheus name was chosen because it starts with "O" like Ortho. It was a tribute.

[Name] held Orpheus in her arms, rocking him gently as Mrs. Shroud finished straightening the little blue onesie she had bought especially for her grandson.

The living room of the home, normally slightly cold to match Idia's behavior, was filled with a warm and almost chaotic energy. Small electronic toys and gifts were scattered across the coffee table, the result of the recent visit.

"Oh, look how adorable he has become!" Mrs. Shroud exclaimed, her face was lit up with a genuine smile as her eyes roamed over the baby’s tiny figure.

“He’s 30% warmer in that onesie!” Ortho announced excitedly, jumping around [Name] and the baby, little sparkles emitting from his digital display, a sign of his joy.

“He looks perfect.” Mr. Shroud commented, his small, somewhat restrained smile reflecting a calmness that contrasted with his wife.

Beside him, Idia let out a dramatic sigh, as if he had already foreseen how this family scene would unfold.

“Oh, but the cap is missing from the set!” Mrs. Shroud suddenly exclaimed, pulling a small blue cap out of her shopping bag as if she had found the final ingredient for a perfect recipe.

She walked over to [Name], carefully reaching out and placing the small cap on top of Orpheus’s head, the baby’s faded blue hair already beginning to shyly poke through.

With the cap in place, Idia finally spoke, his voice slurred but slightly amused. “Heh, he looks like Mega Man.”

Ortho laughed at this. “That’s right!”

“The outfit is adorable, Mrs. Shroud!” [Name] said sincerely, smiling as she watched her son dressed so perfectly.

“Oh, [Name], please!” Mrs. Shroud replied, turning her attention to her with a warm gaze. “It’s been so many years! There’s no need to call me that. You can call me mother!”

As the two talked, Orpheus began to babble softly, chewing on his fingers. His innocent eyes sparkled, and his little nose wrinkled as if he sensed something strange.

Ortho, ever observant, knelt in front of the baby, leaning down excitedly to talk to him. “Orpheus, are you comfortable? Isn’t that the coolest onesie? I bet you’re 100% safe and warm now!”

But before he could say anything else, Orpheus took a deep breath, as if he were about to sneeze. Then…

“ATCH! ” A small, fiery flare exploded from the top of Orpheus’s head, burning the blue cap completely in a matter of seconds. The fabric crumbled into ash, leaving only the baby’s faded blue hair, now transformed into soft flames that danced in the air.

Everyone in the room froze for a moment, staring open-mouthed at the scene.

“Ahhh!” Mrs. Shroud gasped, her hands going to her face, but in awe, not panic. “Oh my God, his hair…! Ohhh my beautiful baby!”

“The temperature rose so quickly! The cap was destroyed!” Ortho said with genuine amazement.

“Ahhh... so young and already showing us his fiery hair…” Mr. Shroud murmured, emotional.

Idia, still standing next to [Name], widened his eyes in shock before exchanging a glance with his wife. [Name], in turn, began to laugh.

“Yeah… I guess we know who he gets it from,” she says, looking at her husband, who sighed deeply, running a hand through his own fiery hair.

Idia leaned over to look at the charred remains of the cap on the floor, frowning. “I guess I better get something to clean this up…”

He took a step toward the door, clearly trying to discreetly leave the commotion. However, before he could escape, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, making him freeze and sweat.

“Where do you think you’re going, Idy?...” Mrs. Shroud’s voice was soft, but filled with irrefutable authority. “Let’s take a picture. Of all of us. Now.”

"Gulp..." Idia swallowed dryly.

“I’ll get the camera,” Mr. Shroud said calmly, rising from his chair. He seemed almost pleased to be part of this special moment.

“[Name], [Name]! Can I hold Orpheus in the picture?” Ortho asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Of course, Ortho.” [Name] replied with a smile, carefully handing the baby over to her robotic brother-in-law, who held him with the precision of his mechanical parts and a surprisingly human affection.

Orpheus, in turn, let out a happy sound, the flames on top of his head dimming to a soft glow.

Shrouds. Always a curious experience.

[idiotgojo]

eye fucking satoru <3

tags; gojo x reader | fluff, suggestive (?) | jealous (?) insecure (?) reader

note; here's some comfort before the next chapter leak... gojo comeback 😩

"I'm not jealous, I'm just—" you waved your hands in frustration, unable to put words to match what you were feeling. That was all you could manage. Gojo, on the other hand immediately understood. He smirked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"You really don’t realize the effect you have on me, do you?"

And that was how you ended up on top straddling him, both of you still fully clothed. The heat of his body radiated through your thighs as you sat on top of him.

“What are we even doing? I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed,” you sighed, trying to lift yourself off his lap, though a part of you wasn’t entirely convinced.

"While my princess is mad at me? I'd rather die than let you sleep upset with me," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His hands tightened on your waist, keeping you locked in place, as his gaze softened just a little with a pout.

Suddenly, a wave of insecurity hit you out of nowhere. You were usually confident—quick-witted, and perfectly aware of your beauty. But something about the way that other woman had flirted with him earlier stirred doubts. She was a contrast of you—different hair, a niche style, a whole different vibe. Was Gojo craving something new? Was he tired of you?

Just as your mind began spiraling, his palm faintly tapped your thigh, bringing you back to the present. You bit your lip, refusing to meet his eyes, knowing if you did, you might just fall apart in front of him.

"Look at me," Gojo said softly, yet firmly, as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes remained fixed on your fidgety hands in your lap. But Gojo wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered,

"I dare you to look into my eyes and see what happens."

You hesitated, but curiosity, or maybe just him, got the best of you. Slowly, you met his gaze.

In seconds, you felt it—him hardening beneath you, unmistakable and sudden. You gasped, instinctively glancing down at his growing length pressing against the thin fabric of your clothes. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you blushed furiously.

Gojo chuckled, reaching up to grab your chin with one hand, tilting your head up to meet his eyes again. His other hand slid up your thigh, teasing.

"Now do you see the effect you have on me?" he asked, his voice loud with excitement, eyes locked on yours that sent a shiver down your spine. The corner of his mouth lifted in a sly smile as he waited for you to respond.

Words failed you, your brain fuzzy, buzzing with the intensity of the moment. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a searing kiss. His lips claimed yours, biting gently on your lower lip, eliciting a moan from you. The pressure of his body beneath yours, the friction as you rocked your hips against him—it all made your pulse race, drowning out every thought but him.

Both of you groaned softly into each other’s mouths, hands roaming feverishly. The heat between you was undeniable, and the tension finally snapped as you deepened the kiss, tongues tangling, breathing ragged and needy.

That night, Gojo didn’t just show you his desire—he made it clear that you were the only one he ever wanted. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word left no room for doubt. You were his one and only.

disclaimer (?); a lot of ??? in the whole post, which is probably because I'm not even a real writer. I just write for fun, a place to collect and keep my scenarios I create in my head before I go to bed lol. This is my first written piece! Enjoy :)

© idiotgojo 2024 do not steal or translate. if you wish to use the idea and create a better fic please tag me :)