#if that is a plot line. (and i do think it is I think that mystery black armor guy is tech revived from death I think that's what's going o

[sorryimananti-romantic]

HAHA YES WELCOME BABES HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY GJFHKDG

not you roasting joong and praising his leadership in one breath fdkghdffkjg

ALSO STUFF YOU FOR POINTING OUT THE SHEEPS i always make that mistake and always catch it and regret it later AHAHAHA

yes dom hongjoong taking it out on the reader in the form of some spicy stuff DID I NOT TELL YOU OOPS (surprise bbygorl)

yes hehe exploiting ppl is like the first thing you must do as an aspiring politician in this era (like how come nothing else ever works) but yes it's really not a yumi fic without some political seasoning hehe

LOOK MY THESIS WAS BORING ASF STAY AT HOME SCENE but a girl can dream right dkfjghjkdf

fr hwa can breathe and i'd be a goner so i don't blame the reader for simping like that AND YES AHAHAHA THE LICKING HIS THUMB TO WIPE YOUR WHATEVER UGH I GOT THAT PICTURE IN MY HEAD. I DIED. I WRITE. :D

yes hehehe the last line thing i got that inspo from love next door they did that with their episode names (pls watch love next door)

RIGHT LIKE HOW THE STARS ALIGNED TO MEET THE JEONG YUNHO ON A BLIND DATE I'M SAT I'M READY I DO NOW KISS THE BRIDE

yes omg i basically wrote you (keep dreaming)

omg but real i do that sometimes too with the scale and hand measuring how can i not man his hand is so big ugh i cannot

YES this is basically guerrilla 2.0 bc i literally could not be bothered to come up with anything else i'm so sorry but also it's really really fun to write him as a sunshine serial killer and YES THOSE QUOTES he's literally the sun how could i not :'))

omg thank you for appreciating yeo's moodboard :D it really is fitting right? i can imagine him in a medical setting perfectly, preferable in a darker medical setting like this one

omg thank you for appreciating the characterisation too maybe i'll make this a separate fic one day LOL but yes we stan a man who still cares, even when he's uh killing ppl (FOR THE GREATER GOOD)

i said it before i say it again, there cannot be a yeo fic without chicken mention. if that happens with my fic, that's not me. that's an impostor.

LOL NOT YOU WAITING FOR ANOTHER PLOT TWIST WHEN THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT CUTE LITTLE SCENARIO have i traumatised you

RAHHHHHH YES DADDY SAN ANY DAY AND LMAOO doing what ;) what do you think ;) (he sleeps, ofc)

YES SAN A GREEN FLAG AS A RED FLAG SO BASICALLY A... BROWN FLAG?

the woo cameos are very unintentional but he's so side character coded LOL

YES AHHAHAHA EXECUTIONER WHO THIS IS JUST THE CHOI SAN WE KNOW AND YES YOU LIKE HOW I THINK RIGHT HE REALLY IS A GREEN FLAG

hmm you're craving royal mingi fics? time to write my royal beauty and the beast au break who we don't get breaks in this household loren has wished for a royal au and her wish is my command-

AHAHAHAHA this may be the first time she gets called song's girl but you bet that's all she's gonna be called from now

LMAO YES WOOYO BEING THE SAME PIECE OF SHIT I MAKE HIM EVERY TIME AHAHAHAHA HE'S SUCH A LOVEABLE BRAT

i almost made him a pyromaniac and made reader a firefighter but i guess i can do that some other day 😔✌️

LOL AHAHAHAHA idk what's with me and writing woo e2l smutty fics it just hits every time hehehehe

MONSTER OF CAPITALISM SHOULD HAVE BEEN HIS TITLE FR AND YES ITS CEO X CEO RIVALS AU

bruh when i tell you i thought i wrote turns tables and went to double check AFTER writing the correct phrase clown energy fr

YES OMG idk what it's about jongho but he's so daddy coded and when he says terms like darling or sweetheart you bet it's gonna hit 100x harder

you really are colourblind to red babes idk AHAHAHAHAHA but yes if it's jongho *gets down on my knees* yessir

THANK YOU SO MUCH BABES NGL it was scary to write this without you validating every trope and every plot LMAO and i was worrying if this felt half-assed but it turned out okay :') BUT YES. BREAK. MUCH NEEDED MUCH DESERVED BREAK I'M FREEE

thank you so much for your support babes <33

Ateez as Villains

disclaimer: read at your own risk. do not interact if not comfortable with any tropes. reminder that this is a work of fiction and must be treated so. 

warnings: absolutely no morals here, 18+ mdni, illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical abuse, stalking, trafficking, financial crimes, dirty politics, corruption), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol

a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here

Hongjoong

The Manipulator

hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills

from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people

he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words

so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician

hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror

you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high

“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.” 

he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country

people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world 

and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional

but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words

he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him

hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight

he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium

the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation 

he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party

to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change

but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation

they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory

you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation

“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up

you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there

you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it

you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured

and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you

in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you

and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here

you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary

oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving

that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one

it must be the fates that led him to where he is today

after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?

he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words

it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them

but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous

the world is not run by saints, after all

“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted

you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes

you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party

but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you

“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple

“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means

he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader

he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another

and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?

you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely

he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits

you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober

you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse

corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it

you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now

you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics

you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride

there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him

‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader

except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them

he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads

despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean

and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes

a true politician, he’s been dubbed

it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party

you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great

‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into

they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia

they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour

he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold

and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears

hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator

when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom

his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him

he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him

his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed

until that too becomes scalding hot

he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard

he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants

he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still

you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants

“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”

his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him

“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them

“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”

his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought

“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face

“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?

he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead

“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”

“for the greater good-”

“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration

“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”

“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”

you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning

you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods

all he knows is that he is right

he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation

and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint

the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become

his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him

between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place

“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”

you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down

he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed

as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him

“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”

“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”

“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”

“afraid of what?”

“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye

“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone

you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice

every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it

“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”

hongjoong notices your choice of words

you can not leave him- you do not have a choice

he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night

it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right? 

it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless

since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close

it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms

your lord, your saviour

The Manipulator and the Manipulated

Seonghwa

Jekyll

park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes

be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal

he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart

you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes 

but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him

it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does 

your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)

your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well

he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way

plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)

he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all

so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant

you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides 

basically, moments away from a disaster

he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth

you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”

“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him

and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes

for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons

before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him

the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster

as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief

and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that

he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department

and he thanks you for helping him

you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline

you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him

it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy

and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in

you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new

you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there

it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)

you like how it is there- neat and clean

the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now

and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter

however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him

you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?

does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?

perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it

seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either

it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data

wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them

people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly

wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow

seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that

all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught

in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar

here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them

he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face

he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?

so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can

he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew

you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end

“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”

seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other

he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table

“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes

you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-

“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly 

you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking

“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either

he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle

from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise

from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks

there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension

and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?

“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies

upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back 

you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him

and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature

you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting

you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen

you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you

it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it

does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?

so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis

you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy 

“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-

too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-

and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently

he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again

“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student

you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)

seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact

you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin

he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing

except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear

“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”

to say that you freeze is an understatement

you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position

you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back

“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper

the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget

“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”

there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you

a moment of pure static

as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens

you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other

it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground

only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright

between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you

you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though

but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme

he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him

you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots

he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)

for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research

mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control

very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs

he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him

seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person

so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead

you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out

you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face

while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld

there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them

you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park

no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research

nothing to worry about

Jekyll and Hyde

Yunho

The Hunter

when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye

there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread 

for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth

his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company

he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising

so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe

you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’

she was not lying, is all you can think now

you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh

however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school 

you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them

the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner

surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common

you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud 

like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet

the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)

just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night

as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too

you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless

it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own

he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months

you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting

so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home 

and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs

he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it

which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot

he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be 

you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading

more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games

since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence

it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun

he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)

his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again

it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone

it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys

and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks

is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same

the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone

the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance

you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving

despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman

you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow

but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths

nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back

and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air

every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen

you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person? 

not once do you think of calling the police though

you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie

sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie

when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch

“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does

he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore

“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask

“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”

“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room 

you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen

“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high

when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway

your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it

yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink

only he fucking forgot

it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters

“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink

yeah. it does not look that bad

“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”

that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these

“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that

he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something

truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you

he also knows you are far too observant for your own good

he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him

though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess

you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct

is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not

when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony

and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)

it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there

you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots

on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink 

you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant

there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie 

“it really was you,” you say, unwavering

your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right

yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this

did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no

he just never imagined it would unfold like this

and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head

you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person

you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now

to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you

you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly

“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”

yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are

he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room

and then he bares his heart to you

he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him

he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it

and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them

“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”

yunho’s eyes widens at your response

you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one 

you have no one but him- how did that happen?

he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed

he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode 

why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?

you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you

so he trusts you and waits for you

he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you

you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse

though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess

and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other

“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close

“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.

The Hunter and His Guide

Yeosang

The Mad Scientist

there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him

that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul

the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals

the goals are all related to science

sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do

doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body

nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories

he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart

he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others

he is much appreciated by his peers

they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace

the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars 

jars containing the human body parts within them

from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver

each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs

each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)

taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition

such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold

his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all

he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile

and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone

you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you

you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder

“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”

the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world

“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.

you know what he means

there surely must be others just like him

you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you

the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom 

“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”

“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”

well, that’s arguable 

you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close

in fact, overqualified

“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”

you are an expert, that is true

you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way

you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic

and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife

your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market

but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist 

you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life

you would be his equal. an accomplice 

“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer

it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms

a muffled sound interrupts your little moment

you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace

the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs

the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room

the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used

he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man

really, no one would care if he went missing

in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?

surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive

though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live

“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”

it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity

but that’s what you like about him

he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good

there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no

he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world

he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age

he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore

he complains about this a lot 

if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago

sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women

he is different from them, he claims

he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments

it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human

(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)

you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell

he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out

the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid

the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor 

he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now

yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses 

his hand is gently caressing the man’s head

when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten

he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression

he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart

you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function

yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically

“let’s get to work, shall we?”

you smile in response, following his instructions

soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market 

you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you

yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already 

and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here

his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen

it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over

it doesn’t disappoint any of you though

yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him 

plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure

you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher

you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free

yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question

“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed? 

yeosang stands beside you, pondering

“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”

you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all

after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore

the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place

you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss

just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other

just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company

as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you

you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile

it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation

and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?

yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast 

just two partners in crime. that’s who you are

The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice

San

Executioner

choi san works hard during the day

he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape

as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips

he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires

so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit

they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything

as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world

so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher

but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that

certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is

when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out

someone programmes, another composes, another works out

just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties

except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app

“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go. please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”

san is contemplating if he should accept this request

you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons

you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head

“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”

you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request

you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting

it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows

the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse

he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans

“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”

you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”

“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors

it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl

san lost his temper that time, though

and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them

and funnily enough, san was scarier that night

scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon

you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil

“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”

was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night

a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends

“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it

he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”

“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field 

san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long

“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms

“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it

“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”

san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you

there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?

“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”

because it was originally your idea

on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town

a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks

you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being

it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors

the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud

“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”

it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed

it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules

you were not going to kill anyone- only maim

if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again

if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak

the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner

wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains

so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role

“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”

this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles

“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”

“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”

san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you

his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile

immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice

and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention

“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”

you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside

your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker

you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself 

he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on

just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe

you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker 

and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him

he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch

the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes

there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist 

from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask

and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand

you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat

you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand

san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room 

even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling

san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come

there is no help, not for miles

“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet 

san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up

“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”

the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead 

“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”

“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”

san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain

he leans in to whisper in his ear

“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”

the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison

most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him

the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors

“surely… you’re not him, are you?”

you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes

san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there

the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces

you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg

san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again

the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes

san’s job is done

he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to

when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request

wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works

“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives

“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”

san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to

you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood

and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him

and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him

“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”

“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”

Judge, Jury and Executioner

Mingi

The Overseer

“the future, pitch black, upside down”

mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas

the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend

and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life

despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life

he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-

“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly

even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-

“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table

-for something as meagre as tea

mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit

which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight

“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail

“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation

because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets

mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it

“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look

you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss

you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought

“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question 

mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now

where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life

you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out

he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big

all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends

he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation

every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had

when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance

you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home

at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live

and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it 

although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong

men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on

only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around

while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider

you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny

so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie

you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching

you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs

they all had guns, for fuck’s sake

you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there

and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth

“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down

“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”

“not so quick,” his gaze darkened 

instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head

he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man

the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek

he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more

“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”

the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued

you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target

when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly

you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head

your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour

to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?

he knew you were something special right away

you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back

he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly

“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes

“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”

“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine

“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully

mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order 

the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job

mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it

you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?

personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these? 

sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses

sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook

other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes

you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t

somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are

you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others

but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi

whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different

“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”

“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”

“you looked like a lost cat”

“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them

truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either

he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly

he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that

he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions

but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond

he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence

he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals

because he is not a good person, you found out

song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals

despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you 

he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space

when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you

if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be

if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded

when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do

you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms

it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like

are you in a relationship? you don’t know

all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life

it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does

it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind

it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters

so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him

he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle

“really?” he asks

“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”

mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore

your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action

“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain

“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”

you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?

“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment

“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds

you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”

“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies

“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat

his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you

“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”

mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know

of course you do

mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you

“i won’t break,” you promise

“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”

your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours

“are you sure about your choice?”

“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”

mingi draws back

“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him

“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you

mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips

it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment 

you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees

he assesses the canvas once again

as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him

yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world

The Overseer and his Shelter

Wooyoung

The Maniac

it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung

you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end

it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next

someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery

someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger

you chase after each other like cat and mouse

only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse

sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung

jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town

a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind

a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall

he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator 

some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion

with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating

while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections

he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed 

he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion

no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot

there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry

and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes

you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house

you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire

to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out 

while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style

he gets away with anything

you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it

they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him

the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once

you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars

you want him to chase after you like you chase after him

you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention

it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung

it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were

someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung

you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway

and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac

you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears

here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later

except… you get something out of the chasing now

all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again

with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot

with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him 

as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right

“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt

“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths

you can not let him know the effect he has on you

however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation

you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows

all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two

his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself

he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours

his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off

you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung

(at least the door is locked)

wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet

the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening

you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target

but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones

all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties

upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest

he catches your fist in his hand, though

“all for me?” he asks

in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him

he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table

he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you

he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on

and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on

“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”

“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”

wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget

“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”

you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?

he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming

for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly

this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control

you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end

truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here

wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings

he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him

well, you try not to, but he is insistent

he takes you home and he invites himself in

you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down

loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know

“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”

“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him

he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that

it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him

(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)

while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings

you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?

you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work

the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved

so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks

“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung 

wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face

“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”

“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-

but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you

“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath

you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter

telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating

and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs

he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover 

you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back

when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung

“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”

“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”

wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity

“did you think it meant something else?” he asks

it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing

you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two

he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you

so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight

(and he does. not before a second round)

when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight

everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger

it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now

though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later

for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse

and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse

The Maniac and his Shadow

Jongho

The Tyrant

it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking

the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury

it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others

as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior

the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like

choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time

“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff

you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders

you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up

you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time

however, things are not in your favour this time

in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive

sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game

except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal

your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must

sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you

if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?

“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly

you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you

the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone

jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat

you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing 

you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves

“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”

an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you

at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right

you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend

“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”

now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark

“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly

you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally

jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company

a monster of capitalism

known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on

a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is

he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel

and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him

“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows

you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal

your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry

they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)

the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo

you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is

“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”

jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make

“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks

“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”

“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”

you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you

jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”

“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”

he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”

you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites

you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”

“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”

“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic

“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city

a tyrant- that’s who he is

he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives

you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”

“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”

you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions

“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”

jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words

“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes 

“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”

“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers

you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you

“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper

it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho

“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away

he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment

“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre

“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone

he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)

“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”

“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”

“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes

“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”

that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone

there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you 

except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events

you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other

you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose

there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else

do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure

“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”

“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room

“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”

you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that

“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say

jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards

“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise 

you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks

“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”

“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”

“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”

you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine

the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt

when he embraces you, you lean on him physically

and you almost give in, except…

“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue 

“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”

you look up at him, finding him smirking

just like you thought

“not a chance, choi jongho.”

“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse

“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”

his eyes glint almost dangerously

“challenge accepted,” he says

you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room

choi jongho never changes, and neither do you

but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him

even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not

The Tyrant and His Defiant Ally

[squoxle]

[10] GOOD BOY ~ L.YB

needy!felix x horny!reader

plot: after waking up horny as fuck, you strike a deal with your best friend Felix that he can’t pass up… | wc: 1.4k | cw: smut, situationship, cuddling, tit sucking, pussy eating, kissing, pet name

Felix had called you over late last night, and even though you didn’t do anything, you ended up sleeping next to each other.

The two of you started a sexual relationship about 2 months ago after one too many drinks led his dick inside of you. You couldn’t say that you hated it, and that was the reason it kept going.

Even though you could agree that he was cute and sweet, a relationship was the last thing on your mind. All you wanted was sex. And you made that very clear. So you found it strange when he called you last night just to sleep with him.

You woke up to see him nuzzled into your chest with one hand reached under your shirt, cupping your tit.

Finding his plump pouty lips and peaceful countenance somewhat attractive, you turned your body in his direction, wrapping your arm around him to play with his shaggy blonde hair.

You watched as his eyes fluttered open from your touch. “G’morning,” he hummed.

“Morning,” you smiled gently as he pressed his nose against yours. You felt his hand give your tit a gentle squeeze before he retracted it.

“Sorry for calling you over so late last night…I just didn’t feel like being alone.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged.

“Thanks for coming…I really appreciate that,” he smiled before pecking you on the lips. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick and I’ll be back, okay,” he pulled the cover off of his body, climbing out of bed, before walking down the hall.

You couldn’t understand why looking at him seemed to turn you on so much but all you could think about right now was watching his pretty face get pussy drunk for you.

You reached your hand between your legs before circling your clit. You touched yourself while keeping that thought in mind, you pulled your fingers back, spitting on them before pushing them through your entrance.

A little part of you felt guilty that you were pleasuring yourself in his bed when he didn’t seem to have any sexual intentions, but the horny demon inside of you wanted him more.

“Hey, what’d you want for breakfast? I’m cooki—“ Felix paused in the doorframe as he saw you on his bed, laying there biting your lip with a lustful expression on your face. Soft, breathy moans escaping your lips.

“C’mere,” you hummed, directing him with your gaze.

“What’re you doing,” he asked, knowing damn well what was going on underneath that blanket.

“I hope you didn’t think I was gonna leave without getting off at least once,” you bit your lip, catching a moan in your chest. You watched as he pulled the covers back to see your fingers buried deep in your pussy.

“Can I…uhm?” He stuttered.

“Yes,” you shook your head, pulling your fingers out as his replaced the spot. You brought your fingers to his lips as he sucked your juices off, moaning just from the taste.

You looked over the edge of the bed seeing his dick hardening through his pants. The sight made you even more horny as you watched him lick his lips. But it also gave you an idea.

You watched as he pulled his fingers out, sucking them before pushing them back inside of you. Just as he loosened the string on his sweatpants you stopped him. “Ah ah, since you didn’t fuck me last night, you don’t get to fuck me now.”

“B-but I—“

“Nope. I want you to get me off and if you do a really good job and make me cum, THEN I’ll let you fuck me,” you smiled.

“Hmm…okay,” he hummed before going under the covers to lick between your legs.

“Mmm,” you moaned at the textured sensation of his tongue. He climbed over you, hovering over you as your legs raised. He leaned in to kiss your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he dry humped you, moaning as he satisfied himself and you at the same time.

As good as it felt, you had to keep him in line. You grabbed his chin, stopping him in his tracks. “What do you think you’re doing, huh? You’re supposed to get me off first and then it’ll be your turn. Not before.”

“I-I know but I just—“

“You were trying to find a loophole,” you chuckled as he pouted before raising his hips up.

“Spit in my mouth,” he hummed.

“What?”

“Spit in my mouth, please,” he opened his mouth, eagerly waiting for your saliva. Fuck, whenever he said please like that you just wanted to ride that pretty boy until he cums all inside your pussy.

Just the thought of feeling his body shake beneath you was enough to tell him to just use his dick right now.

But those weren’t the rules…

You spit onto his tongue as he pulled it into his mouth, crawling back between your legs before spitting directly on your clit.

You were using him to play out the fantasy in your head and it was turning out better than you expected.

He sucked on your clit, pulling his fingers in and out as wetness dropped down to the sheets. “Mmm, you’re so fucking wet,” he hummed as you felt the vibrations from his voice.

He pulled his fingers out, using his thumb to stimulate your clit as he slipped his tongue in. You felt it worm up inside of you as you threw your head back, moaning with pleasure.

“Do you like that?” He asked, licking your entrance.

“Mhm,” you nodded as he lowered his head and moved his tongue faster. “Uhnn, fuck baby,” you moaned. He moved his lips, pushing his fingers back in before raising your shirt to suck on your tit.

“Ngh!” You raised your chest as you felt yourself about to cum.

You felt the warm wetness of his lips sucking on the flesh of your chest as he fucked you harder and faster. A high-pitched whine escaped your lips as the feeling intensified. “Fuck, you sound so pretty,” Felix cooed from between your tits as he moved up to your neck.

“Please cum baby so I can fill your pretty little cunt and watch it drip out,” the way he was talking to you right now made you want to cum immediately, but you wanted to enjoy the feeling for a bit longer.

He lowered down as he gripped onto the outsides of your thighs. He squeezed them as you gripped onto his hair. His nose grazing your clit as he moaned with every lick.

You pulled his head up to see your release all over his face as he stuck his tongue back out before going down on you again. He kept eye contact with you as you moaned, cumming hard as your body shook.

He held your lower half in place as he kept licking and sucking your pussy to help you ride out your orgasm. “Good boy,” you patted his head as you caught your breath.

“Now can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you chuckled as he quickly pulled his pants down, slamming his dick into your pussy.

He grunted as he pumped into you quickly, gripping your hips and raising them to angle your hole with his dick. He lowered your body back onto the mattress as he pressed onto your lower abdomen. You felt his dick going in and out of you as he panted with broken moans escaping his lips.

You couldn’t help but moan with him as he used you like a sex doll. He leaned forward, pulling your legs back and fucking deeper into your throbbing cunt. He whined as he came inside you, pumping faster as he filled you up.

You pushed his cum out, causing it to drip down your ass as he pulled out. He plopped down next to you as the two of you laid next to each other.

“_____,” he called your name.

“What?”

“Can I tell you something…”

“Sure.”

“I hope it doesn’t make you feel weird or anything…”

“Just say it already.”

“I can’t cum without you,” he lowered his gaze as you looked at him.

“What…”

“I don’t know why…I just can’t do it unless you’re here with me…”

You knew what this meant, but you didn’t want it to be true.

“I think it’s because…I like you…”

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

@chlorinecake

@wonbinisbabygurl

@nishiimuranights

@wildflowermooon

@heeseungshim

@ramyeonzprincess

@bangchans-gf5

@wand3rlustm3

@heeseunghee7

@norihoyeon

@gacktsa

[ataleofcrowns]

Chapter Progress [NOV/06]

Hey all, it's been a while since I've written one of these 🍂

I've been posting regular previews on my Patreon, but a proper update was long overdue! As a refresher, my last update was this one, and I've got lots more to update you on now that I'm further along!

I've struggled a lot with this chapter and have been trying to wrangle it into shape as best I can, and I'm happy (and relieved) to say that I can finally give you an estimated release date: you can expect CH12 to be uploaded in December this year.

I won't be putting a specific date on it yet, since it could be anywhere from early December to late December depending on how much progress I make in November, but I'll let you know! Now, onto specifics.

The Main Plot

I'm currently balancing out LI specific content in the main plot! Regardless of what you chose in regards to Kham and the peri trader, players will be spending some time with D and X to make up for their absence in CH10 at the beginning of this chapter, and I've really missed writing their dynamic with each other as well as the Crown.

I genuinely can't decide which branch is my favorite. Meeting with Kham directly gives so much juicy verbal sparring and tension between not only her and the Crown but her and D and X as well. But meeting directly with the peri trader let me dig more into the worldbuilding, explore the city a bit, and have some more lighthearted shenanigans with D and X too.

I'll add some previews here for both routes that I've also already shared for people on the Patreon. Here's a little excerpt for people meeting with Kham:

“There is one thing I have been wondering, princess,” you say as you stare back into her eyes, watching the way the orange orbs of light flicker like flames. “When you first arrived here, you were accompanied by a retinue of guards. Whatever happened to them?” Kham does not raise her brows at you, exactly, but something similar to the motion as the wood above her eyes arches upwards with a stiff creaking sound. “They are not merely my guards, they are my servants first and foremost. Naturally, they run errands for me.” “What kinds of errands?” “Surely you do not think I would fetch all I require by myself?” She appears amused by the line of questioning rather than offended. “They trade with the peri merchants in your city on my behalf. Although, calling it trade is perhaps not accurate, as I hold the right to lay claim on their supplies whenever I please. They are representatives of my mother, after all.” You consider the explanation, but nothing about it seems notable or inconsistent so far. “So you have never dealt with this peri trader I wish to meet with yourself?” “Of course not.” She smiles, her wooden mouth briefly pressing together. “That would be beneath me.” “A shame,” $xname muses casually from beside you, contrasting the sharp look in their eyes. “We had hoped you might have some insight to share.” “As much insight as you are willing to offer me regarding this flower you seek,” Kham returns, her smile still in place. “The blue siren, yes? A rather strange fixation…” You feel the urge to tense, but withhold yourself from it by taking a slow, relaxed breath. All the rigorous physical training you have underwent over the course of the past month is already showing its benefits: you feel more aware and in control over your body, able to maintain your composure. A necessary skill when dealing with someone like Kham, as conversing with her feels like a dance of sorts. The two of you are watching each other’s steps, waiting for the other to slip.

And here's the excerpt for if you choose to meet with the peri trader:

You manage to make it through the marketplace, finally arriving at a large building with an open front, wrapping around the corner of the street. Tables and shelves are lined with various flowers and plants, perused by a few passing customers. This appears to be the peri trader’s shop, signaled by the sign at the front that reads Eshkar’s Garden. Eshkar being the name of the peri trader in question. Most of the flora on display you recognize, if not by the labeled names then by sight alone, but several look entirely new to you. Pale white flowers whose hanging bulbs pulse with light when a customer brushes against its leaves; bleeding vines wrapped around a miniature roofed trellis atop a tall table, its crimson flowers slowly dripping down pink juice caught by bowls below; a tall flower with only two black petals, large and pointed, that nearly startle you when they snap together several times in sharp, cracking sounds, almost as if the flower were clapping. IF CROWN IS INTELLIGENT Momentarily forgetting about your intended purpose in being here, you approach the clapping flower with curiosity, wondering what set it off. Sure enough, you see dead and decomposing flies of various sorts collected at the center of its bulb as you lean over to peer inside, taking care to avoid leaning in too close lest your nose get caught between the aggressive petals. Does it catch and eat small insects? How fascinating. You glance at the labeling of the flower, its name fittingly given as ‘black ovation’. IF CROWN IS INTUITIVE Eyes drawn by the visual spectacle of the white flowers, you find yourself wandering over to its shelf, glancing at the labeling that reads ‘stardrops’. The bulbs look ordinary at first glance, but sure enough, when you reach out to touch its petals, the flower begins to glow like you saw before. A ring of light travels up its stem, through the petals to the very ends, where it erupts into tiny little golden sparks. Hence the name, you suppose. Unable to stop yourself, you touch the flower again, mesmerized by the light show, until you notice a shop attendee frowning at you from nearby. Feeling scolded, you quickly pull your hand away and offer an apologetic smile.

Lots of fun going on in both routes! I don't envy you for having to make this choice lol.

Aside from this big branch, the main plot will converge for everyone again in the latter half of the chapter, where the Crown gets do to some more typical Crown things: hearing public petitions! They'll contain 2 smaller scenes where your character will hear out some citizen concerns, which will let you rack up reputation points with either the public or the nobility, and 1 major scene that affects a future plot point.

Not gonna spoil these since I've already talked so much about everything else regarding this chapter, so this will have to remain a surprise ✨

The Romances and Friendships

While the start of the chapter is X and D focused, if you have a specific (platonic) LI you want to spend more time with as buddies and perhaps get a little relationship advice, you'll have that opportunity at the start of CH12! I've had to write 12 variations in total for each friendship scene, which was a lot of work, but completely worth it.

Some LI routes also have big additional differences depending on if you have a low or high romance (such as A and R), while it matters a little bit less for the others for the time being (such as D and X). So if you screwed up on D or X's romances and have a low status, you're mostly in the clear from immediate consequences… for now.

Here's a little excerpt, taken from a playthrough of a Crown who has a high romance with A and chooses R's friendship scene:

Something like mischief gleams in $rname’s eyes as $rthey looks at you. “I’ve noticed you and $aname seem especially close nowadays.” You shift a little on the couch, averting your gaze to avoid $rname’s eyes as you strike a casual tone. “Do we?” “Mhm.” When you do glance over at $rname, you find $rthem studying $rtheir nails, and you begin to relax as you think it was just an idle remark. Until $rthey adds, “All the hand-holding underneath the table is endearing, I must admit. Especially since the two of you seem to think you’re being subtle about it.” IF CROWN IS RESERVED Heat flushes up your neck at being seen through so easily, remembering breakfast earlier that morning where $aname’s fingers hooked around yours beneath the table. “We were just… we’re not…” $rname looks up from $rtheir nails to grin at you. “There’s no need to look so embarrassed! I’m happy for you. The two of you seem well-suited for each other.” Trying to move past your flustered state, you clear your throat. “You think so?” “I’ve never seen $aname so at ease as when you’re around,” $rname considers, eyes narrowing with teasing and fondness both. “You look more unburdened with $athem near, as well.” IF CROWN IS FLIRTATIOUS You almost laugh at the remark and give it away completely, only managing to keep it in at the last moment and grinning back at $rname instead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” $rname looks up from $rtheir nails with a sly smile. “No? What a shame. I was going to say how well-suited the two of you are for each other.” That catches your attention, your playfulness easing into something more sincere. “Really?” “I’ve never seen $aname so at ease as when you’re around,” $rname considers, eyes narrowing with teasing and fondness both. “You look more unburdened with $athem near, as well.”

This scene aside, CH12 will also contain another dedicated romance scene with your LI, dealing with some of the fallout from last chapter whether good or bad. If your romance is high, you'll be coasting- except maybe for D romancers, who are in Pining Hell either way haha.

If your romance is low, though, prepare for some delicious angst 🙏🏼

That's all I've got for now! Thank you all so much for your patience and support as always, especially for how long I've been making you all wait. You're the best 💖

[51voices]

Three's a Thrill

Kinkvember Day 6: Threesome

Dreamcatcher Kim Yoohyeon x Kim JiU (Minji) x Female reader/OC

(Reader has some body modification for plot purposes)

AN: A little late on this one, classes have been kicking my butt.

“I bet they’re a writer or something,” JiU mused, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Or maybe a chef,” you countered with a grin. “Someone who’ll invite us over for tastings.”

JiU laughed, the sound light and familiar. “Oh wow, could you imagine? Think of all the food we’d get to try.”

With that, you both made your way up the path to the new neighbor’s house, footsteps echoing lightly against the quiet surroundings. The house next door had been empty for months, and the curiosity had been building between you two. JiU’s excitement was clear as she climbed the front steps, flashing her trademark smile. With a firm knock, she announced your arrival.

The door swung open to reveal a young woman with shoulder-length hair, dark eyes and a welcoming smile that instantly put you at ease.

“Hello! A fresh face in the neighborhood. Welcome” JiU greeted warmly, extending her hand.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she shook JiU’s hand. “Hi, I'm Yoohyeon. It’s so nice to meet you both—I’ve been hoping to connect with my neighbors.”

JiU stepped back slightly, gesturing toward you. “I’m Kim Minji, but you can call me JiU, and this is my lovely wife.” Her smile softened as she brushed her hand over your shoulder in an affectionate, natural gesture that made your bond clear. Feeling a bit shy but warmed by the gesture, you extended a hand to greet Yoohyeon.

Yoohyeon’s eyes flickered with surprise before softening. In the conservative country they lived in, it was rare for same sex couples to introduce themselves so openly. She admired the quiet confidence you both shared, comforted by how natural your expressions of love felt. Smiling back, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship.

“It’s really nice to meet you both,” Yoohyeon said sincerely, excitement lacing her tone. “I just moved in and am still finding my way around, but it already feels more like home knowing I have such friendly neighbors.”

JiU chuckled and glanced at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, we’ve definitely been in your shoes. The first week we moved here, I couldn’t even remember which bus line went where,” she laughed. “So, how’s settling in going?”

Yoohyeon looked around her cozy entryway, decorated in a warm, minimalist style. “It’s been… a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. I’m actually an English teacher, so between commuting, learning where everything is, and getting the house in order, I’m still finding my rhythm.”

“Oh, an English teacher! That’s wonderful,” you said warmly, your interest clear in your voice. “Moving can feel overwhelming at first, but if you need anything—a ride, directions, or even a café recommendation—we’re just next door.”

“Thank you so much! That’s really kind of you,” Yoohyeon replied, visibly relieved. “I’d love to know more about the neighborhood. Any local gems?”

“Oh, plenty!” JiU’s smile widened. “There’s an amazing bakery just around the corner. Their strawberry mochi is to die for, they always sell out early. And there’s also a café a few blocks down called Insomnia Café that makes the best iced caramel lattes in town.”

“Those sound incredible; I can’t wait to try them out,” Yoohyeon said, mentally noting the recommendations. Then, with a curious look, she asked, “And you two? What do you do for work?”

JiU exchanged an amused look with you, a hint of mystery in her eyes. “Oh, we mostly work from home,” she said with a slight, knowing smile that felt almost deliberate.

You added with a playful glimmer, “It gives us a lot of freedom to travel and enjoy life—a definite perk,” leaving Yoohyeon to wonder if there was more to your work than met the eye.

“That sounds amazing,” Yoohyeon replied, intrigued but not wanting to press. She sensed a layer of mystery between you two, but also a warmth—a quiet, unspoken connection that drew her in, as though she’d found friends as unique as they were welcoming.

The conversation continued, covering everything from the best local grocery stores to the quirks of the nearby subway lines. JiU’s stories were punctuated with laughter, and though you were quieter, you leaned in occasionally with thoughtful comments and small, knowing glances that spoke volumes. The closeness between you two was undeniable—a shared understanding that filled the air with ease.

After a while, JiU glanced at you and gave a slight nod. “Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” she said warmly. “We just wanted to stop by to say hello and welcome you. Don’t hesitate to come by if you need anything or just want to chat.”

As you and JiU turned to leave, Yoohyeon found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement settling in her chest. Watching you both walk away, she couldn’t shake the thrill of having such warm, intriguing people right next door. She felt a spark—maybe this move would bring more than she’d initially expected.

-----

One late evening, Yoohyeon stood by her bedroom window, drawn to the quiet charm of the night. The neighborhood lay still, each house settled into its evening calm, with only the occasional faint glow of a light here or there. She often enjoyed these solitary moments, gazing out at the world beyond her window and letting her mind wander.

Tonight, her gaze drifted almost involuntarily toward JiU and your home, the upstairs bedroom window just visible from where she stood. Yoohyeon’s eyes narrowed as she noticed movement in the soft, dim light seeping through the curtains. Curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t help but look closer. She could make out the silhouettes of JiU and you, laughing together, leaning against the wall, faces flushed as you playfully nudged each other.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, the details became clearer: JiU, with her tousled hair falling loose, dressed in a simple sports bra and shorts, while you wore a fitted tank top and briefs. A light sheen on your skin hinted that you’d both been dancing or wrestling playfully. The sight was so candid, so deeply intimate, that Yoohyeon felt like an unintentional intruder. She should have looked away, yet something about the relaxed, unguarded way you shared this private moment kept her eyes fixed.

JiU’s arm slipped around your waist, faces close enough to be nearly nose-to-nose, both of you laughing softly, as though sharing a secret. There was something mesmerizing about the ease between you two, a mutual warmth that Yoohyeon could almost feel across the distance. A blush crept up her cheeks, her heartbeat quickening in response to the scene unfolding before her.

Realizing her gaze had lingered too long, Yoohyeon tore her eyes away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—a faint stirring in her core that surprised her. She had known JiU and you as the friendly, slightly mysterious couple next door, but tonight, witnessing this side of you stirred something unfamiliar, something undeniably thrilling within her.

She took a deep breath and sank onto her bed, willing herself to forget what she had just seen. Determined to shake the image from her mind, she picked up her phone and scrolled through social media, hoping to distract herself with harmless videos and updates. But her mind kept wandering back to the way you’d looked at each other, the comfortable closeness, and the undeniable spark between you.

Frustrated, Yoohyeon switched apps, almost without realizing it, and found herself on an adult site. She felt a bit silly, yet the warmth that had built inside her urged her to seek some release. As she scrolled through thumbnails, nothing seemed to capture the raw, genuine intimacy she’d just witnessed between you and JiU. Every other video felt strangely hollow by comparison.

Just as she was about to put her phone away, a particular thumbnail caught her eye. The resemblance to you and JiU was uncanny—the same dark hair, the same air of easy intimacy she’d glimpsed from her window. A forbidden thrill stirred within her as she hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen before she tapped “play,” her heart racing as the video loaded.

Through her headphones, JiU’s voice murmured gently, as if meant just for her. “Are you ready?” she asked, her tone full of warmth and teasing care. Yoohyeon’s heart fluttered as the image on-screen filled her mind.

Then, as her gaze drifted over your figure on the screen, her heart suddenly skipped a beat. A flash of metal caught her eye—a nipple piercing, gleaming softly against your skin. Yoohyeon’s pulse raced. She’d had no idea you had such a bold, hidden side. There had never been a hint of body art or piercings in your everyday appearance, and this quiet, thrilling detail felt like a secret unveiled.

Her breath caught, surprise mingling with fascination. Body modifications had always intrigued her, and this little discovery seemed to reveal something new about you—a quiet strength, a hidden edge, something both beautiful and daring.

Yoohyeon’s pulse quickened, her body tingling with anticipation as her hand slipped between her legs, moving in sync with JiU’s careful touch on the screen. JiU’s hands traced slow, tantalizing circles over your skin, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The rhythm was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and Yoohyeon found herself mirroring the pace, her breaths shallow as she matched JiU’s gentle, precise touches.

Her senses drifted, pulled deeper into the intimacy unfolding before her. JiU’s sultry voice seemed to reach through the screen, drawing Yoohyeon closer. Each whispered word and soft caress felt like an invitation, coaxing her further into your shared world. As the camera lingered on your face, lips parted with a soft, breathless sigh, Yoohyeon felt herself lost in the vulnerability of the moment, each delicate sound heightening her own arousal.

Her gaze flickered between you and JiU, her fingers moving faster as the tension within her grew. The way your body responded—the subtle tremble, eyes fluttering shut as JiU held you on the edge—felt almost sacred, an intimacy that sent shivers through her. Yoohyeon bit her lip, her breaths quickening as her release approached, caught up in the magnetic pull of your connection.

Finally, as JiU brought you to climax, Yoohyeon heard her gentle voice again, murmuring, “Are you close, baby?… Yes, you can cum. Cum for me, my sweetie.” Yoohyeon’s body surged with her own release, her fingers pressing down as a stifled moan escaped her lips, waves of pleasure flooding over her. She lay there for a moment, head spinning, still basking in the lingering warmth. It felt surreal, as if she’d shared in something intimate with you—an unexpected closeness that stayed with her, even after the video faded to black.

In the days that followed, Yoohyeon found herself drawn back to JiU and your videos, watching with a growing intensity. She became captivated by the smallest gestures between you—the way JiU’s hand lingered on your cheek, or the soft laugh you’d give in response to her teasing. The catalog of videos became her private indulgence, something she turned to each evening, a ritual that filled the quiet spaces in her life.

Yet, the more she watched, a subtle ache grew within her—a yearning she couldn’t quite put into words. She’d watch each video, hoping to make sense of her feelings, but it only left her wanting more. This wasn’t just attraction; it was a craving for the deep bond she witnessed, a connection that seemed almost unattainable. And as she realized this, a creeping guilt began to take hold.

What am I even doing? she’d mutter to herself, torn between the comfort she found in the videos and the nagging feeling that she’d crossed an invisible line. They’d posted these videos for people to see, she reasoned; it’s not as if I’m invading their privacy. But the rationalization felt thin, a flimsy excuse for the thrill she felt in watching.

They wanted people to see this, right? she’d tell herself, trying to believe it; otherwise, why share something so intimate? But the sense of trespass lingered. She knew she should stop, that she needed to let this go. And yet, the pull of your bond, and the warmth it brought her, was something she wasn’t sure she could resist.

Outside of these moments, her days began to feel increasingly hollow. Work felt tedious, gatherings with friends left her restless, as if nothing could break the hold you and JiU had on her mind. And the more she tried to ignore the videos, the emptier she felt, like a crucial part of herself was missing.

When Yoohyeon returned home one day, the emptiness she’d tried to ignore settled back over her. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t return to those videos, yet her mind drifted, thinking of the warmth and passion she’d witnessed through her screen. She tried to distract herself, scrolling through social media and tidying her apartment, but her thoughts always circled back to you both.

Her routines had become dull, a monotonous hum against the vivid memories she replayed. Each night felt longer and lonelier, the quiet of her apartment amplifying the ache within her. And so, once again, she found herself at her bedroom window, gaze drifting toward your house, drawn to the only place that seemed to promise any relief.

Through the soft glow of your bedroom curtains, Yoohyeon could see your silhouettes, leaning close, bodies entwined in a quiet, intimate moment. Her heart skipped a beat, a thrill racing through her as she watched, her eyes fixed on your faces mere inches apart, bodies pressed together in a gentle embrace.

I shouldn’t be watching this, she told herself, but her body didn’t move. She rationalized that it was harmless, that it wasn’t wrong to watch from her own window. But part of her knew better. This was a private moment, and she was an uninvited guest. Yet the pull was magnetic, each glimpse deepening her curiosity, a live show she couldn’t resist.

Each night, Yoohyeon found herself back at the window, drawn into the private world you and JiU shared. Sometimes, you simply laughed over a glass of wine or leaned into each other, speaking softly. Other times, the moments were charged, your touches tender yet powerful, holding her in place as a silent witness to something she knew she couldn’t reach.

Over time, this ritual became a comfort, enough to carry her through her days. She tried to distract herself with work, with friends, but nothing compared to these glimpses. Eventually, the temptation grew stronger. She ordered a pair of compact binoculars, her heart racing as she unwrapped them. She knew it was wrong, that this was a step too far, but the thrill of watching, of catching each movement and expression, was irresistible. Through the lens, everything became vivid—every glance, each soft touch, every shared smile between you and JiU.

Deep down, she knew she’d crossed a line, but the quiet connection she felt each night kept her tethered to the window, watching, even as guilt lingered beneath her excitement.

-----

A few days later, while tending to the flowers in her front yard, Yoohyeon heard a soft clearing of the throat. Turning, she saw JiU leaning casually against the fence, a warm smile brightening her face.

“Hey, Yoohyeon,” JiU greeted, her gaze sweeping over the flowerbeds. “The flowers look beautiful. You’ve really brought some life to the neighborhood.” Her tone was light, yet the compliment carried an unexpected warmth.

“Oh, thanks!” Yoohyeon replied, brushing a petal with her fingers and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping JiU wouldn’t notice the blush rising in her cheeks.

JiU stepped a little closer, her presence filling the space between them. “Listen,” she began, voice warm and inviting, “Y/N and I were talking, and if you’re free tonight, maybe you’d like to come over for dinner? It’d be nice to have a proper evening together, just us neighbors.” Her gaze was intent, as if searching for something in Yoohyeon’s reaction.

Yoohyeon’s breath caught, her mind racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Oh—dinner? Sure, I’d love that,” she managed, her voice trembling slightly.

JiU’s smile deepened, her gaze softening as if reassured by Yoohyeon’s answer. “Perfect,” she replied, her voice a touch lower. “Come by around seven; we’ll keep it cozy.” She held Yoohyeon’s gaze a moment longer, leaving Yoohyeon’s heart fluttering in anticipation.

The hours before dinner seemed to stretch and then fly by. Yoohyeon agonized over what to wear, searching for something casual yet flattering. Nervous energy buzzed in her stomach as she made her way up your front steps. When she knocked, her heart pounded, and JiU answered almost instantly, her face lighting up.

“Come on in! You look lovely,” JiU said, her voice rich with warmth as she ushered Yoohyeon inside. A faint scent of spices filled the air, mingling with a subtle floral aroma that heightened Yoohyeon’s awareness of every detail.

You appeared from the kitchen with a tray of small appetizers, smiling as you waved. “Hey, Yoohyeon. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, setting the tray down with a gentle laugh that only added to the inviting ambiance.

JiU handed Yoohyeon a glass of water, their fingers brushing just briefly. The touch sent a spark through Yoohyeon, and she couldn’t help but think of the way she’d watched those fingers move through her binoculars—the gentle, sensual touch. She took a quick sip of water, hoping to cool the flush on her cheeks. Her gaze flickered around the cozy living room, catching the glow of candlelight casting soft shadows along the walls.

“So, Yoohyeon,” JiU’s voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her. “How’s work treating you? Settling in alright?” JiU’s question felt warm, an invitation for Yoohyeon to open up.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been good,” Yoohyeon replied, grateful for the shift in topic. “Teaching is always an adventure. The kids keep it interesting.” She laughed softly, feeling herself relax. “They’re unpredictable, but that’s part of what makes it so rewarding.”

JiU nodded thoughtfully. “Teaching must take a lot of patience. I admire that,” she said, a hint of humor in her tone. “I think I’d run out of it in ten minutes.”

You chuckled, nudging JiU. “You’d last five minutes. Tops.”

The three of you laughed, and conversation began to flow easily, each of you sharing stories from different corners of life. As JiU shared a story about getting hopelessly lost on the subway, laughter filled the room, each of you letting down your guard a little more.

At some point, JiU’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do you have any tattoos, Yoohyeon?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yoohyeon smiled, lifting her shirt slightly to reveal a delicate script along her ribs. “It says ‘Liberté, with a small bird.”

“Liberté,” JiU murmured, leaning in to look. “That’s beautiful. It really suits you.” Her voice was low, almost intimate, and Yoohyeon felt a thrill in her chest. Emboldened, she asked, “Do you have any?”

JiU smiled, tugging her collar to reveal a dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder. “To remind me to hold onto what matters and let go of the rest.”

“It’s beautiful,” Yoohyeon said softly, unable to shake the image of tracing the tattoo with her fingers. She glanced over at you, curiosity sparking. “How about you?”

You chuckled, glancing at JiU with a playful roll of your eyes. “No tattoos here. Minji’s tried to convince me, but I don’t think I could handle the pain.”

“Oh, she’s terrified,” JiU teased, nudging you affectionately. “But I think she’d look great with one.” The words lingered, stirring an amused smile as Yoohyeon joined in the laughter, her own inhibitions slipping away.

In the warmth of the moment, Yoohyeon suddenly blurted out, “Honestly, a tattoo would hurt a lot less than your piercings.” Her hand gestured toward your chest, lingering just a second too long. Realizing the implication, her cheeks flushed deeply.

Your eyes widened, a blush spreading as you exchanged a look with JiU. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she turned back to Yoohyeon, eyes gleaming. She leaned forward, eyebrow raised.

“Oh? And how do you know about my wife’s piercings, Yoohyeon?” JiU’s voice was smooth, her words dripping with amusement, making Yoohyeon flush under her steady gaze.

Heat flooded Yoohyeon’s cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean to… I just… I, um…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze.

Beside her, you blushed, looking to JiU, finding comfort in her knowing smile.

JiU leaned closer to Yoohyeon, her tone softening. “So Yoohyeon, Do you like watching our videos” she murmured, tracing gentle circles on Yoohyeon’s arm, She was silent but nodded “Hmm If you want,you could be part of the real thing.” Her eyes held Yoohyeon’s, the invitation clear.

Yoohyeon looked at you, feeling the weight of the invitation. She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Are you… really okay with this?” she asked gently.

Meeting Yoohyeon’s gaze, you smiled softly, reassuring her. “I wouldn't be opposed”

JiU’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as her fingers brushed Yoohyeon’s arm. “So, what do you say?” she asked warmly. “Would you like to be part of our world?”

The room felt charged, each moment more intense. Yoohyeon took a breath, meeting JiU’s gaze with a smile.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, her voice soft, filled with both excitement and nerves.

As you make your way down the dim hallway, everything feels hushed and close, like the world’s gone quiet around the three of you. Yoohyeon walks between you and JiU, her hand clasped tightly in yours, her breathing just a bit quick, her fingers trembling slightly. JiU’s hand rests gently on her shoulder, steady and warm.

When you reach the bedroom, Yoohyeon pauses, taking a small step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. She presses her lips together, then glances up, her cheeks flushing as she searches for the right words. The room feels charged, anticipation thick, but she shifts slightly, looking uncertain.

“I… I didn’t plan for this,” she murmurs, voice low, almost to herself. She hesitates, crossing her arms as if shielding herself, a faint blush coloring her face. “I didn't, uh, exactly… prepare myself” Her eyes shift downward just below her stomach.

JiU steps in, her expression softening. She reaches out, gently tilting Yoohyeon’s chin so their eyes meet. “Yoohyeon,” she says quietly, her tone firm yet kind. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The words settle into the silence, and Yoohyeon’s expression eases, a flicker of relief softening her eyes. She leans into JiU’s touch, her breath slowing as some of the tension leaves her. A shy smile lifts her lips, and she glances your way, as if looking for further reassurance.

You give her hand a small, comforting squeeze. “She’s right,” you murmur. “Also, I think its kind of sexy”

Yoohyeon’s face relaxes a little more, her shoulders dropping as she lets herself take a deeper breath. With a slight, tentative smile, she reaches down, fingers pausing for a moment before lifting her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stands there, a bit vulnerable but resolute, a blush warming her cheeks as she glances from you to JiU.

The soft light highlights the natural curves of her skin. She hesitates again, glancing at the slight patch of hair, a flicker of worry crossing her expression. But JiU steps closer, her hand brushing Yoohyeon’s arm in a quiet, reassuring gesture.

With a warm smile, JiU takes her in fully, her gaze steady. She reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Yoohyeon’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger a moment. “You’re beautiful, Yoohyeon,” she says simply.

Yoohyeon lets out a quiet breath, her face softening with a mixture of shyness and relief. She looks between you both, then nods slightly, giving a small, genuine smile. Her body language loosens as she steps in closer, her warmth blending with yours, each touch a quiet affirmation that she’s wanted, just as she is. The three of you stand there, a gentle understanding settling over you all as you hold each other close, a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.

A shaky breath escapes Yoohyeon as JiU’s gaze settles on her, warm but undeniably commanding. Yoohyeon’s longing is palpable, and JiU takes her time, letting that desire simmer. Slowly, she leans in, brushing her lips softly over Yoohyeon’s, the kiss beginning gentle before deepening into something more consuming, drawing Yoohyeon closer as her breath catches. JiU’s hand rests on her arm, a steady anchor, fingers pressing just enough to show intent. Each touch from JiU electrifies Yoohyeon, a perfect balance of reassurance and intensity that leaves her pliant, already breathless.

Watching beside them, you’re drawn into the unfolding moment, savoring Yoohyeon’s reaction under JiU’s skilled touch—the way her eyes flutter shut, how her breathing hitches with quiet anticipation. JiU’s gaze briefly meets yours, a spark of control evident, as if reminding you of your place in this shared space. It stirs something raw in you, a familiar exhilaration mixed with a quiet submission to JiU’s presence, though there’s a different energy between you and Yoohyeon.

With a small smile, you reach out, your hand settling warmly on Yoohyeon’s thigh, your touch gentle but grounding, a reminder that she’s here, with both of you. Yoohyeon’s gaze drifts to you, her eyes softened, seeking reassurance, and you respond by squeezing her thigh, letting her feel your steady support, balanced between JiU’s authoritative energy and your own firm but comforting presence.

JiU’s focus returns fully to Yoohyeon as she guides her toward the bed, easing her down onto the soft sheets with a deliberate tenderness. There’s a practiced confidence in JiU’s movements as she brushes Yoohyeon’s hair back from her face, letting her fingers trail along the line of her jaw before tracing down the delicate curve of her neck. She leans in, pressing her lips to Yoohyeon’s collarbone, lingering, savoring each soft gasp Yoohyeon lets out in response.

Beside them, you settle onto the bed, your hand moving slowly higher on Yoohyeon’s thigh, grounding her with a presence that’s both firm and gentle. As JiU’s touch intensifies, guiding Yoohyeon’s breaths to come in short, anticipatory gasps, you find yourself caught between the energy they share. You want to keep Yoohyeon steady, but JiU’s movements send a different thrill through you, a pull you find hard to ignore as your own dynamic with JiU stirs within.

JiU’s attention stays fixed on Yoohyeon, her touch reverent yet possessive, as if she’s savoring every response Yoohyeon gives. Her hand trails deliberately over Yoohyeon’s skin, slow yet insistent, her fingers brushing over her arm, her collarbone, every touch deepening the flush on Yoohyeon’s cheeks. Each movement is infused with a quiet dominance, a confidence that seems to wrap around you both, filling the air with its own quiet intensity. Yoohyeon’s breath catches with each stroke, her body relaxing under JiU’s touch, fully yielding to her guidance.

You watch, captivated, as JiU leans in closer, her mouth tracing delicate, intentional kisses along Yoohyeon’s neck, pausing just enough to let her feel every touch. The sight sends a thrill through you but also a subtle pang that you try to brush aside, yet the quiet ache grows as JiU’s attention remains focused on Yoohyeon, her touch almost exclusive. It leaves you on the edge, caught between the warmth you feel for Yoohyeon and the deeper pull JiU has on you.

Taking a steady breath, you press your hand slightly more firmly against Yoohyeon’s thigh, a silent reminder of your own role here. Yoohyeon shifts her gaze to you, and for a moment, the tension eases as her lips curve into a soft, reassuring smile. You meet her gaze, allowing yourself to ground her, pressing a series of light, lingering kisses along her skin. Yoohyeon sighs, her face relaxing as your touches soothe her, anchoring her in the moment, even as JiU’s hands roam with a possessive grace that leaves Yoohyeon visibly breathless.

JiU’s eyes catch yours, a knowing glint flashing across her face, as if she senses your quiet frustration simmering beneath the surface. She lets her fingers trace down the line of Yoohyeon’s hip, moving with that same deliberate care, drawing Yoohyeon’s body into her rhythm as she makes her shiver, her soft sounds filling the space around you. JiU tilts her head, her gaze sharp, her smile carrying a hint of playful challenge, a reminder of her role here and the depth of control she holds over you both.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” JiU murmurs to Yoohyeon, her voice a soothing purr. The words settle into the room, layered with a quiet encouragement that makes your pulse quicken as well, grounding you both in the same energy. You lean forward, brushing more intent kisses along Yoohyeon’s thigh, each one deliberate, marking your own space in this moment, letting her feel the shared warmth between all three of you.

Yoohyeon’s breaths quicken as your kisses travel upward, trailing along her inner thigh with a quiet intensity. Her body shifts between you and JiU, her skin warm under your touch, as you savor the softness of her in contrast to JiU’s more demanding presence. The ache you feel at JiU’s control lingers, the quiet jealousy simmering as her touches continue, each one seeming to pull Yoohyeon deeper into her orbit.

JiU’s hand settles possessively over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb brushing lightly as she murmurs, “Relax, Yoohyeon.” Her words are gentle, yet laced with authority, reminding Yoohyeon of the safety within her guidance. And when JiU catches your gaze again, there’s a subtle understanding there, a glint that speaks directly to the tension in your chest, as if she knows exactly how you feel, balancing on the edge of this connection.

Watching JiU’s fingers trace lightly over Yoohyeon’s thigh, you can’t help the possessive spark flaring within you. But rather than retreat, you choose to lean further in, letting your hand trail upward along Yoohyeon’s waist, steady and grounding as you press a kiss to her stomach. Yoohyeon’s body shifts, her hand gripping onto your shoulder as if to anchor herself, and for the first time, you let yourself get lost in the warmth radiating between the three of you, knowing you each have a place in this shared space.

Each kiss you place is firm, filled with intent, a quiet promise that you’re here, present in this moment. As you move upward, your lips trace a line over Yoohyeon’s collarbone, feeling the way her breath hitches, her hands finding their way to you, clutching as if drawing strength from you. The earlier pangs of jealousy fade slightly, replaced by a sense of connection, of being fully seen and cherished alongside her.

JiU’s hand rests over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb grazing her skin. “Look how ready she is for us,” she murmurs, her gaze slipping between you both, emphasizing the us with a possessive pride that settles the final edge of tension inside you. Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the beauty in this shared intimacy, and as you let yourself sink deeper, you feel the quiet exhilaration shared between all three of you.

Your wife brushes a strand of hair from Yoohyeon’s face, her smile soft and filled with pride. “You’re amazing, both of you,” she murmurs, holding Yoohyeon’s gaze with a warmth that feels momentarily exclusive. Then she glances at you, a spark of playfulness lighting her eyes. “And we’re just getting started.”

JiU’s eyes glint with mischief as she meets Yoohyeon’s gaze, a playful smirk on her lips. She nods toward the closet in a silent cue. You rise, feeling a mix of thrill and something deeper as you move to retrieve two straps—one smaller, one larger.

As you hold them up, you feel the slightest pang of possessiveness mixed with a quiet sense of defiance, grounding you in the moment as JiU’s attention shifts between you both. You turn back to Yoohyeon, meeting her eyes as she hesitates, her gaze flickering over the options before settling on the smaller one, excitement lighting up her expression as she chooses.

“Perfect,” JiU says, her voice low and encouraging, giving Yoohyeon a soft kiss along her jaw as her fingers graze her cheek. “Just let go and enjoy. Focus on us, and trust that you’re right where you belong.”

Yoohyeon nods, her eyes softening as JiU holds her close, her touch grounding the moment. You stand nearby, watching as JiU’s gaze lingers on Yoohyeon. Feeling that familiar spark of possessiveness, something came over you, as you silently set aside the smaller strap, choosing the larger one with a quiet determination.

With calm focus, you position yourself behind Yoohyeon, your hands steady on her hips, your touch warm against her skin. Each move carries a deliberate intensity, a reminder of your place here. You guide her closer to JiU, your touches unhurried, reflecting everything you’ve kept quietly restrained, setting a tone for the night ahead.

JiU’s expression softens as she tilts Yoohyeon’s chin upward, her voice a gentle murmur. “Are you ready?” she asks, her gaze warm as she caresses Yoohyeon’s cheek. Yoohyeon’s eyes shift between the two of you, trust and excitement flickering in her gaze before she nods. JiU leans in to kiss her, tender but with a commanding edge, then guides Yoohyeon’s face towards her core, her movements unhurried and patient as Yoohyeon’s anticipation deepens at the sight.

The moment of penetration elicits a sharp gasp from Yoohyeon, her body instinctively tensing as she tries to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation filling her. The pressure is intense, almost foreign, and it sends an electric wave of sensation through her, somewhere between pain and a thrilling pleasure she’s never felt before. Her fingers tighten reflexively, seeking any form of anchor as the object works itself inside, her senses heightening with each passing second. She shudders, pressing closer to JiU, her face buried against JiU’s legs, muffling the small, breathy cries escaping her lips.

The sounds of Yoohyeon’s voice seem to ignite something deep within JiU, who strokes her hair soothingly, her fingers threading softly but insistently. JiU’s hands guide her. The calm presence grounding Yoohyeon as she navigates the unfamiliar territory of sensation and vulnerability. Yoohyeon feels a rush of heat flood her cheeks, embarrassed by how intensely her body reacts. Each small movement makes her gasp or flinch, Then a particularly forceful thrusts propels her forward leaving no room between her and Jiu.

With slow, but deep movements, each thrust brings her further out of her discomfort and deeper into a sensation that is both electrifying and almost painfully raw. The rhythm builds subtly, adding an undertone of urgency that Yoohyeon isn’t ready to admit to. Her breaths come quicker, ragged, and each inhale draws in the faint, warm scent of JiU, Her mouth trying to explore every inch of her cave

Watching the way JiU’s features melt into pure, unfiltered bliss stirs an extra layer jealousy within you. The sight of Yoohyeon nuzzling into JiU’s folds, lips grazing her skin in worship, makes your pulse quicken, a possessive instinct sparking to life. Your hands, steady until now, tighten on Yoohyeon’s hips, holding her more firmly, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You let your pace quicken incrementally, enough to draw a whimper from Yoohyeon as the intensity shifts, her body instinctively pressing deeper against JiU.

JiU, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, tilts her head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles over Yoohyeon’s skin. She glances at you, concern flickering across her gaze as she notices the shift in your demeanor. “Honey… slow down a bit,” she murmurs, her voice gentle yet steady, her touch briefly pressing to your arm as if to calm the possessive fire building within you.

You nod, easing back into a softer, controlled rhythm. The moment feels fragile, balanced on a knife’s edge, and for a brief time, you believe the surge of intensity has been quelled. But as your wife's attention turns fully back to Yoohyeon, her voice lowering into murmured praises that bring a fresh flush to Yoohyeon’s cheeks, you feel it again, the jealousy that you didn't know you had, start to resurface. JiU’s voice is soft and tender, her praises a balm that soothes Yoohyeon’s trembling breaths, each word a gentle brush that eases her into surrender.

Your grip tightens on Yoohyeon’s hips, your fingers pressing firmly, possessively into her skin, Yoohyeon’s breath hitches as she feels the slight roughness in your touch, her head tilting back as a low, shuddering gasp escapes her. “Oh god… ow—” she pants, her voice trembling with the sheer need building within her. The rhythm intensifies, each slow, deliberate movement drawing out more of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Her hands twist into the sheets, her knuckles whitening as she struggles to hold on, each breath coming in gasps that grow heavier, more desperate.

“Oh—please… I—” Yoohyeon’s voice dissolves, her words reduced to a raw, pleading moan, every sound a testament to the sensations flooding her. The tension builds with every heartbeat, her entire body taut, alive, waiting for the release that hovers just out of reach. Her breaths quicken, her chest rising and falling as her muscles tense and release, the sensations coursing through her like an unstoppable wave.

Finally, the pressure breaks, and Yoohyeon cries out, her release overtaking her in an uncontrollable shudder. She clings to JiU burying her face, her body wracked by tremors as the pleasure spills over, leaving her breathless and utterly spent. Every fiber of her being surrenders in that moment, each shaky breath mingling with the warmth of JiU’s embrace, the sensation grounding her even as it sweeps her away.

JiU’s reaction is instinctual, immediate. The tremor that runs through Yoohyeon ripples into her, drawing a soft, satisfied moan from her lips. Her fingers tighten their hold in Yoohyeon’s hair as her own body responds, hips rocking forward involuntarily. JiU’s chest rises and falls, her breaths quickening as she lets the feeling sweep over her, each wave drawing her deeper into the haze of pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut, her body quivering in sync with Yoohyeon’s, as if the intensity of the moment binds them in a shared heartbeat.

The sight, the sound, the very essence of their shared surrender sparks something deeper within you—a visceral need to take Yoohyeon higher, to push her beyond the limits of what she thought possible. Your rhythm builds again, driven by a primal, possessive urge, every thrust maxing out her climax. Yoohyeon’s body responds, muscles clenching and releasing in waves as she’s drawn into a rhythm beyond her control. Her breath catches, her chest heaving as her mind dissolves in a swirl of raw sensation.

With each movement, Yoohyeon’s cries become sharper, her body more sensitive than ever before. Her back arches, her hands digging in the soft flesh of Jiu's thighs as her body shakes with the intensity.

The room fills with the sound of ragged breathing, punctuated by gasps and whispered pleas, a harmony of sensations that wraps around the three of you, Yoohyeon cries out one last time, her body numb and hurting, leaving her breathless, completely undone.

As you withdraw, JiU shifts upright, her gaze falling downward—and freezing when she notices the larger strap combined with the small tears threatening to fall of Yoohyeon's eyes. Surprise and disappointment flicker across her expression as she looks back at you, slowly shaking her head.

“Hey,” she says, her voice firm. “Why did you use that? She chose the smaller one for a reason.” Her eyes are steady and narrowing “You, of all people, should know to respect that.”

Guilt flashes across your face as JiU’s gentle reprimand settles over you. With an unspoken authoritative aura, she guides both you and Yoohyeon to lie side-by-side, her gaze warm but unyielding, making it clear who holds control. Her presence fills the room, and as her fingers trace along your thighs in light, teasing patterns, there’s an undeniable air of anticipation.

“Now,” JiU murmurs, eyes glinting with playful satisfaction. “I think it’s time for a lesson.” Her touch slows, one hand finding Yoohyeon’s core with a steady rhythm, each movement precise, deliberate, as her fingers trace patterns that leave Yoohyeon shivering and breathless. But her other hand on you is painstakingly slow, her fingertips drifting with an almost unbearable lightness, just enough to stir, to leave you squirming in anticipation.

Yoohyeon lets out a soft whimper, her body instinctively arching into JiU's touch as her fingers skim over the sensitive skin of her thigh. “JiU… please,” she whispers, her voice breathless, eyes locked onto her with raw intensity.

JiU’s smile deepens, a gleam of satisfaction in her gaze as her fingers linger just shy of where Yoohyeon craves her touch. “Patience.” she murmurs, her tone a blend of affection and control. “If I go too fast it will hurt you,”

Her attention shifts to you, her fingers tracing agonizingly slow circles along your thigh, light enough to make you squirm. "Minji..." Your voice is a soft, needy plea as your hands grip the sheets. "Please... can you go faster."

A low chuckle escapes JiU's lips, her smile widening. “You don’t get to ask, honey,” she teases, leaning close, her voice a soft murmur that sends a thrill through you. “Not after how you treated our guest today. An apology is in order.”

Her touch remains deliberate, shifting seamlessly between you and Yoohyeon. Every time Yoohyeon's breath hitches or her body tenses, JiU keeps her rhythm steady. Meanwhile, her hand on you moves with excruciating slowness, each featherlight stroke teasing but withholding satisfaction. The effect is intoxicating—leaving you both simmering, each touch drawing you further into her control.

“Faster” Yoohyeon’s voice fades into a moan, her body taut with need, each pause becoming a delicious ache.

Your own breaths quicken, and just when your eyes flutter closed, teetering on the brink, JiU withdraws again with a soft chuckle, her gaze amused as she watches the flush deepen on your face. "Minji… please, I'm sorry." you whisper, voice tinged with desperation.

JiU meets your gaze, her expression both warm and teasing as she cups your chin, directing your focus toward Yoohyeon. “Apologize to her not me and I might consider.” she says softly, her voice carrying an unmistakable command.

Turning to Yoohyeon, you search her face, a rush of sincerity coloring your voice. “Yoohyeon… I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I never meant to hurt you.” The words linger, filled with unspoken emotion.

Yoohyeon’s expression softens, her cheeks flushed as her hand reaches to rest on yours. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice tender. “It hurt at first, but… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.”

A hint of satisfaction flickers across JiU’s face, and she rewards Yoohyeon’s patience with a deeper touch, her fingers moving with intent, coaxing Yoohyeon’s body to respond. Yoohyeon gasps, her breaths quickening as she arches under JiU’s steady rhythm, her need apparent as she sinks into the sensation.

JiU’s gaze shifts to you, her eyes softening in approval as she nods, encouraging you to join in. You lean closer to Yoohyeon, hands gently finding her chest, your touch warm and tender as you trace soft circles over her skin. Yoohyeon’s breath catches, her body responding instinctively to the combined attention, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and excitement.

You lower your lips to her collarbone, your kisses trailing down to her chest, every gentle press designed to bring her pleasure. Yoohyeon’s soft moans blend with the rhythm of JiU’s movements, each sound spurring you to deepen your touch, your fingers grazing her with reverence.

JiU’s hand remains steady on Yoohyeon, her fingers coaxing her closer to the edge, guiding her with the perfect rhythm as she murmurs, “Let go, Yoohyeon. Feel everything… don’t hold back.” The warmth in her voice is a reassurance, a command, urging Yoohyeon to release.

Yoohyeon’s hands find yours, her fingers entwined as she clutches at you, her breaths coming in gasps as her body arches, giving herself over to the sensations. Your lips move against her skin, each kiss, each touch drawing her closer. She tenses, her voice breaking into soft cries, her body finally reaching its peak.

With a shuddering breath, Yoohyeon succumbs, her hands clutching you tightly as each wave overtakes her, her soft moans filling the air as she finds release. Her breaths come heavy, and she melts into your arms, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and affection. JiU’s smile deepens, pride evident in her expression as you both hold Yoohyeon through each tremor, your touch a steady, reassuring presence.

With a kiss to Yoohyeon’s cheek, JiU murmurs, “Do you want a sneak peek of our next video?” Her voice is soft yet brimming with excitement, and Yoohyeon’s eyes light up, nodding weakly as she savors the warmth of the moment.

JiU’s hands are steady and sure as she gently positions you and Yoohyeon face-to-face, her calm assurance guiding you into place. She eases your legs apart, leaving you open in front of Yoohyeon’s wide-eyed gaze. Her touch drifts lower, fingers moving with precision, each rhythmic stroke pulling you closer to the edge. Her other hand finds your breast, expertly toying with the pierced nipple, the cool metal sending a delightful shiver against your warmth. Your head tips back, breaths coming in quicker under her skilled, steady touch.

Yoohyeon’s gaze remains locked, her eyes unblinking as she absorbs each nuanced motion. Breath shallow and body still, she is captivated by the energy between you and JiU, as if it wraps around her like a charged current. Her heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm JiU sets—each precise stroke, each deliberate tug that draws soft gasps from your lips. With every shift in JiU’s movements, Yoohyeon feels herself drawn further into the moment, as if JiU’s touch extends through the room’s tension, reaching her too.

JiU’s focus sharpens, her touch unwavering as her fingers move inside you with unyielding intent, guiding you with each practiced stroke to the edge. Her fingers curl to explore your most sensitive places, igniting a powerful current that travels through your entire body. Instinctively, your hand clings to her arm, a silent plea for release as you surrender to her control, every wave of sensation coursing through you under her skilled guidance.

"Cum... now!" JiU whispers as she simultaneously give you a soft bite on your neck. The words sink in, reverberating through you, unlocking a raw tension that has been building. Her command—firm yet filled with tenderness—becomes the final spark that tips you over, dissolving the last of your resistance as her presence anchors you in place.

Under JiU’s expert guidance, a tidal wave of sensation floods your body, each nerve heightened, every inch alive. The world blurs as every part of you surrenders to the crescendo building within. Your back arches, helpless against the surge, muscles taut as your head falls back, eyes closed, and a sharp, unrestrained cry escapes your lips. 

The pleasure is unstoppable, a wave that crests and breaks with a fierceness that consumes you entirely. It rushes through your body, an intense warmth that spills outward, flowing down to Yoohyeon, who lies below, a willing recipient of your shared experience. She gasps as the intimate liquid reaches her, coating her chest and stomach with the evidence of your release. Some of your juices even reaches her mouth, allowing her to taste the sweet and salty essence of you

For a heartbeat, Yoohyeon is frozen, mesmerized by the fluid that seeps into her skin, filling her with an exhilaration that is both grounding and electrifying. The room itself seems to hold its breath, thick with the shared intensity surrounding you all. Every sound, every heartbeat is amplified in this suspended moment, creating a symphony of sensation that envelops the space.

Yoohyeon's chest rises and falls with ragged, soft breaths, each inhale pulling in the lingering scent that coats her. Her gaze stays fixed on you, lips parted, eyes glistening with awe. Her flushed skin a testament to the power of your pleasure. The energy is unrestrained, enveloping her and leaving her equally breathless, equally awestruck by the intensity of the moment.

JiU, the maestro of this symphony, watches with a satisfied smile, her hands steadying you with soothing touches as she gently lowers you from the heights of your climax. She leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a gentleness that belies the strength of her presence, she brushes a few damp strands from Yoohyeon's flushed face. Her gaze is warm, filled with pride and affection for both of you—her protégés in the art of pleasure.

“Better not spoil that for any other fans,” JiU murmurs, a playful note in her voice, her gaze lingering fondly on the shared connection filling the room.

With a final, gentle reverence, JiU leans down, her lips trailing soft, intimate kisses over every inch touched by your release. Each kiss feels like a blessing, a quiet act of devotion that fills the room with a serene warmth. Her lips linger on Yoohyeon’s flushed skin, delicate yet deliberate, as though committing each moment to memory. Yoohyeon’s eyes flutter closed, savoring the tenderness. 

JiU then turns her attention to you, her touch unhurried, as if there’s all the time in the world. Her hands drift over your skin, fingers grazing softly, leaving warmth in their wake. There’s an unspoken affection in her gaze, her touch, a quiet promise that the intimacy shared tonight isn’t fleeting. As she presses a final, featherlight kiss to your lips, you feel a sense of completion, a fullness that settles deeply within.

Eventually, as the moment’s glow begins to settle into a gentle stillness, JiU helps you and Yoohyeon gather your things. Her hands are soft and unhurried, fingers brushing with care as she smooths tousled hair and adjusts clothing, each touch infused with a lingering tenderness. Every gesture feels like a quiet vow, an intention to hold on to the intimacy woven between you all tonight. Her knowing smile catches yours and Yoohyeon’s in turn, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you now share.

When fully dressed, your hand instinctively finds Yoohyeon’s. Her fingers wrap around yours in a gentle yet steadying grip, her legs still a bit shaky as she stands beside you. Her gaze meets yours, and then drifts back to JiU, whose warm expression seems to say it all—a quiet pride in the bond she’s nurtured tonight.

As Yoohyeon steadies herself, gathering her belongings, she steps slowly toward the door, each movement deliberate, her legs still a little unsteady from the shared closeness. Just as her hand reaches the handle, JiU places a hand on her shoulder, leaning close with a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe next time, you could make a little cameo in one of our videos,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice carrying a lighthearted warmth.

Yoohyeon’s cheeks flush, but there’s a newfound ease in her smile as she meets JiU’s gaze, sharing a glance with you as well. Her eyes sparkle, holding a quiet thrill as she nods, voice soft yet brimming with promise. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies, warmth threading through her words.

Stepping outside, the cool night air greets her like a gentle embrace, grounding and refreshing her. She walks slowly down the path, her heart fluttering, her steps still a bit tentative but full of joy, as though she’s carrying a spark of the night with her. Her smile lingers as she reaches her door, realizing with a soft chuckle that she won’t be needing her binoculars or her phone anymore. There’s no more distance to bridge, no more glances from afar—only the closeness she now holds deeply, a warmth that will linger long after the night fades.

[undead-supernova]

Prologue - Chapter 1

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

plot: you and Mr. Munson are freshman english teachers at south jefferson high school and it seems that some of the kids think he's a better teacher than you. and, yeah, you're a little bit pissed

wc: 3.9k

no cw for this prologue - (lighthearted enemies to lovers)

a fun 2000s idea i had after watching the tv show English Teacher

title reference: We Are Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes

You were a curious moth to a smoldering flame. If anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d tell them they were crazy. And yet, here you were, staring at a piece of lined paper sticking out of a locker. 

It belonged to Dustin Henderson, obvious from the Weird Al sticker stuck next to another of a retro baseball hat that read This is my thinking cap! Yeah, undoubtedly Dustin’s.

You thought about trying to push it back in so he could avoid some stupid bully ripping it. There was no reason for anyone to do that, but Dustin was a freshman and, well, he wasn’t exactly the most popular guy here. 

Fuck it, you thought before taking a step forward.

As you touched the worn corner, you spotted your name poking out from the page. Next to it was…Mr. Munson’s?

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling it out just a little further.

I just think Mr. Munson is better

Huh?

You yanked the paper from the slit, fisting it with both hands as you scanned the page. That was undoubtedly his handwriting, haphazardly written like he was always thinking faster than he wrote. 

So what the hell was Dustin Henderson doing saying that Mr. Munson was a better teacher than you? Dustin was in your class, not his! How the hell would he know?

A sudden flood of panic washed through you, causing you to throw a glance over to Aisha sitting farther up the hallway, scribbling away at something.  She was always here before everyone else, begging you to give her homework early. Most days the answer was no. Most days.

But today, her attention seemed far away. 

You looked back down, noticing a bunch of tally marks in pencil and pen. Even one was made with…an Expo marker? What the fuck?

she’s hot though, someone responded under Dustin’s comment, taunting you in red ink.

dude I’m dating Suzie 

that doesn’t mean you can’t look

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

Why did this feel like betrayal? Why was the word gnawing at your gut? Why was it bringing that bagel you’d scarfed down this morning up to the surface? 

“Find anything good?”

You startled, instinctively jumping backwards and into the chest of the person behind you. Whirling around, you were face-to-face with Mr. Munson himself. 

This was the first time he’d spoken to you. Ever. You’d been here since last spring, subbing for a teacher on maternity leave before she decided to become a stay at home mom. The hiring process was much easier after that. You’d see him at staff meetings and watch him holding the door open for the students after school like he was herding zoo animals off of his arc. 

And now here he was, looking way too put together for a Monday morning. He had a crisp white button down with a noticeably ironed black tie and his long hair skillfully tucked into a low bun. His shaggy bangs were freshly trimmed with little tendrils framing his face. You couldn’t help but think he was the only teacher here without dark circles under his eyes. 

“I…” you trailed, trying to parse through everything that’s just happened. The tally marks. The comments. The other candidate standing in front of you. The sheer amount of tally marks declaring you inferior to said candidate. 

Mr. Munson’s eyes flickered down at the page, eyebrows shooting up. Before you could respond, he plucked it from your fingers. He mouthed the words as he read, scanning intently.

And then he let out a wheeze of laughter.

“Dustin fuc—freaking, excuse me, Henderson. You know, he’s just—” He looked back up at you, grin fading as he noticed your deflated expression. “Woah, hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine and you hated that it wasn’t fine. 

There was an image that flashed briefly before your eyes, of a note stuck to your locker with gum. A love letter from your crush, the one you held to your chest with a death grip as you floated through the cafeteria to his table. The great swell of hope before the roar of laughter that ensued. Before he high-fived his friends and let you down hard. 

But this wasn’t your hometown. The walls weren’t flecked in vertical lines of blue and gold. The lights didn’t signal a death sentence.

And standing in front of you was your colleague, stuck with you in this limbo between the past and the present.

“Don’t let it get you down or whatever. They’re just kids.”

You could’ve sworn he saw the swirling fog that lingered in your eyes. Was this him letting you down easy? 

Then why does it feel like a jab?

Mr. Munson was acknowledged as the favorite teacher of the freshman class last semester. You’d caught the tail end of this recognition, watching him laugh and roll his eyes as he gave a quick salute and sat back down. Mr. Munson, who already had everything figured out within the first year of teaching here. 

You opened your mouth, pathetically suppressing the urge to ask, How did you do it? What am I doing wrong?

But the wave of students coming through brought you back to the current moment, stifling any admittance of weakness.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you said. “Gotta run, bye.”

You turned.

“Isn’t your classroom that way?”

Wincing, you turned back around, watching a smirk fill Mr. Munson’s stupid face. His eyes flickered toward your classroom three doors down from his before back at you.

“Yep, thanks. I know where my classroom is.”

“Yeah, I bet you sure do.”

“Great.”

That was the last time you would ever speak to Edward Munson.

Two weeks after you two found the list, you’d decided to sit in the empty break room for lunch. Every time you went to the cafeteria, you saw Mr. Munson there, laughing with the music and band teacher, Chelsea Jennings. 

The numerous times you’d tried sitting even slightly near them, you always heard Mr. Munson talking loudly about his Creative Writing elective. He’d rattle on about the short stories he’d assign them as models with authors even you didn’t know. Names that flew past your head, some even being professors from the local university you hadn’t attended. Professors that he still talked to.

You had taken up the Poetry elective, quickly updating the curriculum to include more female poets and sprinkle in some of the moderns. You’d desperately wanted to talk to someone else about it, but insecurity spread the second you realized all of your poets were well-known. But how could you ignore Emily Dickinson, Annie Finch, Pablo Neruda, and Mary Oliver?

Chelsea wasn’t the only one who talked to him so casually. The other teachers would greet him with such warm demeanours that it made you feel sick. George Bedding, the junior geometry teacher and Mathletes coach, ruffled Mr. Munson’s hair and pretended to punch him before sitting next to him. The fucking P.E. teacher and football coach, Shaun Atkins, even clapped a hand on his shoulder while heading towards the line for pizza day.

The few teachers that had been more than welcoming to you were never around for lunch. Angela Bradbury, one of the senior English teachers, was always helping students or hidden away in her room, nibbling on her Wonder Bread sandwiches while reading the latest romance novel. Sarah Stewart, an art teacher, was your closest ally but spent her lunches working on her own projects. 

See? There was no need to be jealous of him. You weren’t stuck on the outs. You fit in just fine.

Or, at least, that’s what you once thought. Now you had no idea how you were being perceived. And if you hadn’t come to the break room today, you would’ve spiraled. Again.

The room was small, coated in depressing beige with flimsy cabinets filled with powdered creamer and Folger’s coffee that expired two months ago. The refrigerator could barely keep anything cold. 

So, yeah, no one really came in here. 

(The other teachers hid a coffee pot in one of the supply closets with the good creamer in a mini-fridge you’d all chipped in for. Rumor has it that even Principal Scott used it.)

You sat down at the folding table, lower back already aching from the lack of support the metal chair gave you. At least you wouldn’t run into Mr. Munson again.

He’d just laughed while you were in the throes of humiliation. You supposed he didn’t have to think much about it because he was the one who was winning. Even if he was just some guy in his mid-thirties who must’ve taken this job as a last resort.

As if you hadn’t done the same.

But that was irrelevant. 

And, yes, you looked at Dustin a bit differently after the incident. Every time he raised his hand, which was a lot, you couldn’t help but see his penciled scrawl. 

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

You wondered dejectedly if they wrote that during your class. 

Before you could let out a frustrated groan, you noticed Mr. Munson in the doorway with a metal lunchbox covered in band stickers. He paused, wide eyes locking with yours. You couldn’t help but glare. 

Should the opinion of fourteen-year-old boys affect the way you treat another adult? No, probably not.

But you weren’t always known to be a rational person.

It could’ve been minutes. You couldn’t say. The two of you locked in a stare that seemed more like predator and prey than two teachers just trying to make it through another Tuesday. His dumb expression, dark eyes as wide as a deer caught in the fluorescence. You, a mountain lion trying desperately not to devour your sandwich, chips, and Coke in one bite. Including the aluminum can.

What was worse was the longer you stared, the more you noticed how attractive he was. Properly attractive, with lips coated in what seemed to be tinted chapstick. There was no way his lips were that pink, right? And he had to be using some kind of mascara with how dark his eyelashes were. Then there was his hair, seemingly still stuck in the Eighties with the waves. At least he brushed his hair at all, which was more than any of the greasy-haired teenage boys that frequented the halls. Maybe he could be something to aspire to.

Maybe he already was.

Mr. Munson moved silently, only heard as he pulled out the chair across from you, the legs screeching against the dirty linoleum. You surveyed his lunch, an already cooked ramen cup with a Dr. Pepper. He must’ve found a better microwave in Sarah’s closet.

The teachers of South Jefferson High School had a lot of secrets hidden in their closets. 

You finally dug into your sandwich, nearly moaning in relief. The school had implemented some new rule that the kids couldn’t bring snacks or they’d be “confiscated.” This rule applied to the teachers as well which was fucking cruel. You’d said your tearful goodbyes to apple slices with caramel and coughing fits between periods because you’d tried to choke down packets of Cheez-Its.

However, you weren’t prepared to watch Mr. Munson heave noodles into his mouth with a plastic fork, slurping and sucking the entire time. You couldn’t help your grimace, desperately trying to hold back the sound of disgust in the back of your throat.

Until he looked up, stray noodles plopping back into the styrofoam.  

“Uh, what kind of sandwich is that?” 

He only swallowed after he posed his question. Jesus Christ, this was the guy the kids were deeming their favorite? If only they saw him like this.

“Turkey and provolone,” you responded curtly. 

He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause I see other stuff on it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Banana peppers and onion.”

“And lettuce.”

So much for that scared little deer. Now he was some annoying warthog or a fox trying to slither through chicken wire.  

“Why are you interested in my sandwich?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile growing in the corners of his lips. You hated it. “It, uh, looks good.”

“It’s Jersey Mike’s,” you said bluntly. 

Mr. Munson only shrugged again. “I only have ramen at my apartment.”

“Right.”

“And that fridge is a piece of shit.”

“True.”

“Woah!” he exclaimed, a huff of laughter leaving his lips. “Did we just agree on something?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the feeling of being a teenage girl again. It figures you’d revert after being in this environment for so long, with the stinging scent of cleaning supplies and hormones spreading like diseases. But nothing prepared you for this to transport you back to a time once easily forgotten.

On instinct, your tongue grazed the front of your teeth, laving over the missing braces that hadn’t been there for nearly twenty years. 

“Why do you care?” you snapped. 

Something flickered across his eyes, too quick for you to distinguish. “Oh, I see,” he started, pointing his fork at you. It was then you noticed that it was in fact a spork. “You’re still pissed off about the list.”

You feigned a snort, waving him away as you took the final sip of your Coke. “What? No way.”

Another pearl of laughter flew out of him. “Has anyone told you you suck at lying?”

“Has anyone told you you’re annoying?”

As soon as it flew out of your mouth, you realized just how mean it sounded. You winced.

Mr. Munson let out another laugh but this one didn’t sound the same as the last. “If I had a penny for how many times I’ve been called annoying, I think I’d be, like, the wealthiest guy alive.”

“You’d surpass Bill Gates?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He pretended to think about it before nodding. “Oh, yeah.”

“Wow.”

You couldn’t help the ease you felt when he played along. But the irritation started right back up as he reopened his mouth.

“I know you’re impressed,” he teased. “It’s okay. Go ahead and gawk.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely starstruck.”

“Don’t worry about the list.” When you rolled your eyes again, he added, “Seriously! Those guys are just bored. I bet you’re a great teacher.”

“Thanks.” You didn’t even pretend to mean it.

After another shovel of noodles, he said, “But, just between us, I am kinda the best English teacher here.”

You couldn’t help a third eye roll. “I sincerely doubt it.”

A smug grin filled his face. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be sponsoring the new book club next semester.”

A flare of anger flooded your veins.

“What?”

“Don’t get too jealous there,” he teased.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sponsoring the book club.”

He let out a hum and tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause I didn’t see your name on there.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t see Edward Munson on that list.” You said his name with a certain amount of venom that you knew wasn’t lost on him. His resulting scowl said it all.

He stood up, smoothing out his shirt and fiddling with his tie. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to deal with us being partners then.”

You were at a loss for words, unable to do anything but watch him move towards the door. “Been great talkin’ to you,” he said. He threw his napkin in the trash can before glancing at you over his shoulder. “I’m Edd-ie, by the way. Don’t wear it out.”

He walked away but you couldn’t help but throw a napkin at his fading figure. It made it as far as the end of the table.

That was the first moment you wondered why he’d decided to eat here in the first place.

“There must be some kind of mistake!” you exclaimed.

Principal Scott shook her head for probably the fourth time in two minutes. “I don’t see why you can’t work with Mr. Munson on this. If anything, that makes the club stronger.”

“It’s my chance to try and connect with these kids,” you explained, desperation leaking through your professional demeanor. “Ed—Mr. Munson has been here way longer than I have—”

“Only by a year,” she corrected, but you were far from over.

“ —and he has a leg up on me with them! I want to start making an impact! Kids these days are less interested in reading than ever before. It stopped being cool. What if I could inspire them to care? What if I could get them to read things that change their point of view on the world, to inspire them to think further outside of the little box their environment puts them in?”

Eddie was impressed by your speech, even if he wasn’t supposed to witness it. He’d actually been on the way here to talk to Principal Scott himself to try and keep his spot as the club’s head sponsor. Maybe keep you there but reduce your authority.

But then. Well. He heard you talk like this.

“And that’s great,” Principal Scott continued. “I just don’t see why you and Mr. Munson can’t do that together.”

“The kids like him,” you said before coughing. “At least, that’s how it seems.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to do this work if he’s taking the spotlight? I’m just supposed to stay sidelined?”

He thought about the first time he saw you, at that first staff meeting you’d attended. You fidgeted a lot, all flustered and nervous like all new teachers were. Even in your fear, he thought you were pretty. Standing there, shifting from one heel to the other like you’d rather go barefoot than stand in the opposite corner.

You’d looked over at him at the same time, caught up in an awkward staring contest where both contestants refused to stop blinking and had no idea when to call it quits. It didn’t help that you seemingly relaxed at the connection. It was kind of adorable.

When he saw you in the halls after that, he found himself pausing to observe you. You were always there to wish the kids a good morning and a good rest of their day with a certain amount of sincerity that he could never muster. If there was a hyperventilating kid in the hallway, you were the first one to huddle them into your room to help them down from whatever ledge their raging hormones put them on that day. 

Once, he’d walked past your room to see you opening a drawer while saying, “Don’t tell anyone about my secret stash, okay?” You pulled out a bowl of candy that even had his mouth watering. The student nodded her head, puffy-eyed but already reaching in. “If you promise to keep it a secret, you can come get candy whenever you want. How does that sound?”

If you were outside directing carpool, the worst of all the roulette wheel of responsibilities South Jefferson had to offer, you always seemed energized. Like it wasn’t a chore whatsoever. 

He knew you cared about these kids. He did.

But you seemed to have absolutely lost it at the mere implication that you weren’t already everyone’s favorite English teacher. You’d developed some personal vendetta against him as if it was his fault that fourteen-year-olds with greasy hair, braces, and cruel acne flares thought better of him. Especially Dustin Henderson and his group of nerds. He meant that with all the love in the world, of course.

The way you spoke to him was more intriguing than infuriating. Amusing, even. But then you said his name with such disdain, such vitriol. It prodded at something deep inside him, a well of nearly forgotten memories that seemed to overflow the second you said his name like that.

So, yeah, maybe he was starting to develop a bit of a vendetta against you.

Eddie had to shift his plans. Clearly you weren’t going to give up easily. Maybe he’d annoy you to the brink of insanity and get you to drop your sponsorship. He’d always had proficiency in that skill. Besides, it wasn’t too mean. What was another push?

“Don’t you think you’ll get better turnout rates if he’s there?” Principal Scott reasoned. “If the kids like him so much, you can use that to your advantage—and his. I know Mr. Munson is a dedicated teacher. He’s given your speech to me dozens of times about things that quite frankly matter less. He’s passionate. Just try to work together. It doesn’t have to be that complicated.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Fine. I can do that. Thank you for your time, Principal Scott.”

“Call me Carrie.”

“Yes, thank you, Carrie. I’ll see what I can do.”

Eddie thought about walking away. Really, he did.

But there was a part of him that really wanted to see you. Your figure had been obscured by the doorframe and, sure, he’d gotten enough from your words alone.

Nothing prepared him for the sight before him. You were utterly defeated, scratching at your neck as you hunched forward. The cross-strap bag you always carried was slipping off of your shoulder, causing you to groan as you fixed it. 

As your eyes flickered up, he watched the scowl that seemed reserved for him deepen.

“What?” you challenged. “You wanna gloat?”

It was then Eddie realized he’d been grinning. He gestured to his face. “Was I not already gloating?”

“I can’t believe this,” you grumbled, quickly strolling past him.

But Eddie had a hard time knowing when to stop. And maybe, just maybe, he was solidifying his new plan. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“You could take a picture, you know,” he continued. “just so you can keep up with every face I have when I win.”

“Shut up.”

Oh, he could get this done before Christmas break was over. If he challenged himself enough, maybe by the end of next week.

“I can lend you a camera if you’d like.”

You halted with a huff. “I’m trying to get things done for these kids. I’m trying to help them. Do you not get that? Or is this just a mask you wear to make people like you?”

Eddie tried to disguise the quirk of his eyebrow as he considered your words. But judging by the upwards flick of your eyes, he knew he’d been caught.

What was it that you saw in him that hadn’t been uncovered since his youth?

“You think so low of me.”

“I haven’t been given a reason to indicate any other kind of reaction to you and your incessant need to be a pest at any given time of the day.”

Eddie resisted the urge to give you a slow clap. Instead, he settled on “You done?”

You took a deep breath before nodding. “Yes.” Something seemed to shift as you took another deep breath and straightened your posture. “Winter break is coming up next week. We should try to figure out how to make this work. Why don’t we go get coffee or something and hammer out the kinks.”

“I think that is a great idea,” he replied, his tone more mocking than anything. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You opened your mouth, seemingly to say one thing before hesitating and starting over. “Meet me next Tuesday at Java Bean at one p-m.”

Eddie grinned, smugly wondering what your reaction would be when he said his next words. Professionalism be damned.

“It’s a date.”

Your eyes widened, amusing Eddie to no end. Oh, yeah. That hit something. 

“Do you hear yourself?” you asked, nearly scoffing at him.

There were those eyes of yours, searching for something in his. As if you were both trying to find the truth behind your cement walls of defense. But you gave up first, spinning around and trudging down the hallway.

“See you Tuesday!” he called after you, smiling triumphantly when your shoulders locked up.

Oh, yeah. This would be a cake walk.

thank you to @jo-harrington for all the time she took helping me with the writing process and @littlexdeaths for always making the best dividers. i love you both so much it's hard to articulate.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Dialogue

Dialogue - a written composition in which two or more characters are represented as conversing.

Crafting dialogue is an integral part to a good story, and it is an excellent way to progress your plot and characters.

Below is a guide to review your formatting styles.

FORMATTING DIALOGUE

Denote spoken words with quotation marks: “Let’s go to the movies.”

Dialogue tags go on the outside: “I’m excited for fall break,” said Abby.

When you have a new speaker, start a new paragraph: “Any plans?” Abby asked. Maria replied, “I’m going hiking.”

Keep action sentences outside: Maria nodded. “I’m going hiking.”

Use single quotations when quoting within dialogue: Rachel rolled her eyes. “And then he said, ‘We were on a break.’ Can you believe him?”

Use lowercase for dialogue with action in the middle: “If we don’t leave now,” Marcus yelled, “we’ll be late.”

Add Em dashes for interruptions: “We need to leave before—” A crash downstairs had the sisters skittering for the fire escape.

Punctuation after an ellipsis is unnecessary: “So, I guess we’re over…” he said, voice trailing off.

For multi-paragraph dialogue, do not end the quote at the end of the first paragraph. Add quotations at the start and end of the final paragraph: Marisol wiped her brow and said, “After we finish pulling weeds and trimming the box hedges, we should start planting. I want hydrangeas lining the fence and hostas flanking the stairs. We’ll need to lay straw at some point. “It’s going to be a long day, but I think we can get it all done.”

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Novel Dialogue ⚜ Effective Dialogue Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ Not Good Dialogue ⚜ Dialogue Tips

[taylorkellysburneraccount]

Ignoring how fucking annoying specific parts of this fandom will be, yeah, this feels like everything involved was misaligned. Like, having Henren's story end in two-three episodes, continuing the series regular tradition of doing nothing with Josh if he isn't either taking up Maddie's role when she isn't there or being her gay bestie, making every scene with Eddie about how straight he is, and now doing the most out of nowhere break up for the only other main queer couple since Michael's actor torpedoed the last one.

I think, we might have to come to terms with the fact that...this is getting to be glee levels of bad. The shout out was a warning, we are about to get terrible plot lines from the worst parts of fandom because everyone involved were not ready for the actual implications of making a bisexual main.

And the way Oliver talks about bisexuality, I am sorry I know he's like your fave but as a bisexual man it sounds like he has never talked to a bisexual once in his life. I genuinely am kinda grossed out with the way he talked about Buck needing to immediately have a sex montage but ~gay~ now that he's bisexual. Like, that's all you can think to do with his character? Are you 15, you are a grown man Oliver maybe Josh should've given a gay speech to YOU.

That's probably the most disappointing thing, because it feels like they genuinely don't even want to do Buddie, so this breakup won't even satisfy the weirdos who went full homophobe to defend a ship that wasn't even under attack.

Like at least Glee had in universe reasons to do things, they took place in a school so adding replacements to avoid cutting out the school sets they had while splitting the run time with the now graduated cast members made sense no matter how poor the execution. It genuinely feels like the writers took the first thing they saw in the tags, and went "lets actually give NO PAY OFF."

Also is it just me or was Maddie written weird as fuck in the josh and buck scene. The "turning men gay" joke about Abby came out of nowhere and kinda uncomfortably so?

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

-

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

-

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms working a late shift, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

[acciotaitlynn]

living out my ovulation dreams ₊˚⊹

⤷ raf›sylus›zayne›xavier›you

⤷ 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, oral; ꒰m&f receiving꒱smut w some plot, angst, public sex, raf myth spoilers, merman junk, somnophilia, orgy, lil bit of stuff between xav and raf

⤷ 12,240

*this is my own take on the characters; I wrote them a bit differently than I usually do. hope you like it ♡

Sands of crystalized comet dust shimmer and press softly under bare feet as you walk along the Celestial Sea. Trees line the path, guiding you with starlit lanterns and leaves sparkling like spun silver as sea glass chimes gently in the air.

A figure comes into view, crouching by the water, teasing glowing fish with patterns on the surface. An astro guppy takes a playful nip as they swim in excited circles.

You sit beside him on the sand, watching a yellow fish nudge away the little bully before returning, twirling a proud dance for its bravery.

“I’m starting to expect new friends of yours every time we meet,” you tease.

Rafayel smiles softly before turning to you, gaze turning gentle as he takes you in. You don’t miss the way his eyes travel to the swell of your breasts, lingering before they slowly return to yours.

A fierce, pleased blush spreads over your cheeks at the heated look playing on his features.

When you’d put on this dress, embroidered with delicate shells in the same shade as the azure sea he hails from, you’d tried to ignore the hope that it would elicit such an expression.

His eyes swim with an unidentifiable emotion before they dart back to the water. A wave of amethyst hair slips from the knot at the nape of his neck as he shakes his head.

“He’s not necessarily a new friend. I’ve known Nova for a few weeks now. I swam up on him shortly after his birth, alone and scared. He’s been following me ever since. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m family,” he states, his fingers resuming their shapes.

Your soft laugh fills the air as you nudge him with your shoulder, earning a stumble and a pouty glare in return. “Seems a big responsibility… but you’ve made yourself a fierce protector.” Nova turns quickly, knocking off Rafayel’s teal tormentor as he tries for another nip.

“Creatures of the deep sea are the most loyal beings you’ll ever meet,” he murmurs, sitting back on the sand with a soft sigh. His words seem to hold something back, carrying a weight you can’t begin to understand.

After months of meeting here, you’d hoped he would have opened up more by now, but he continued to hold a barrier between you that fills you with a surprising sadness.

Every gaze that ends too soon, every touch that pulls away too quickly, is an overwhelmingly painful punch to the gut.

You barely know him. You don’t understand the hesitancy and slight mistrust he holds when interacting with you. Sometimes, you wonder why he even takes the time to meet you here. It seems like a gentle, reluctant torture he forces himself to endure. Guilt wells in you for how you make him feel, even if you don’t get it. And for the fact that you genuinely shouldn’t be here.

You have someone waiting at home, someone you deeply cherish. If you’re being honest with yourself, a truth that triples your guilt, you have two significant people waiting, knowing your actions will hurt them both.

Sylus wasn’t home when you left tonight, so you’d taken the rare moment to observe Xavier as he napped on the couch, brushing back his hair as longing swept through you. Their faces swim in your vision, even as you turn to Rafayel.

Another figure with raven hair and bright, golden-green eyes smiles at you tenderly, but you shove him out as quickly as he comes, unable to handle more right now.

The weight of being a terrible person settles in your stomach like a heavy stone, an undeniable truth. You can’t resist it, though. Each man has an indisputable pull, luring you in even when you try desperately to fight it. You can’t make sense of any of it, but you’ve given up on resisting.

You think you did the moment Rafayel’s figure emerged from the waves, the sky painted in a palette of pastel hues as the sea had stirred with magical energy around him.

His form slid effortlessly through the water, casting a cascade of iridescent colors, a mesmerizing dance of blues, pinks, and purples. His fins became legs as the gills on his ears receded, vanishing along with the last traces of his marine form.

Hair cascaded around his shoulders, framing a face sculpted by the gods. His glowing eyes had locked on yours, looking for all the world like he’d come to this beach purely for you. Like there was an irresistible pull for him, too. He stepped onto land with purposeful strides, droplets of glistening seawater evaporating into the morning air as his presence hummed with power.

As he walked toward you, something strange had happened. An overwhelming sense of devotion, bordering on worship, washed over you, sending you to your knees before him. He’d smiled gently and helped you up, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his touch before he quickly drew away.

That was months ago, and meeting him here has become a weekly tradition; even more often, if you find time to slip away, your feet carry you to this spot without thinking. He’s always waiting for you, and when he isn’t, he rises from the water shortly after you arrive, breathless, as if he’d swam a long distance to get there.

He turns to you now with a distant look in his eyes, ones that never fail to make your body weak and tingly. Yours trail to his perfect, rosy lips. The desire to kiss him, to be closer to him, has developed into a want so powerful that you don’t know how much longer you can withstand it.

His gaze slowly shifts into that familiar, quiet pain as the unknowing desire etched onto your face burns bright, nearly blinding.

“How was work today?” he inquires as he turns away.

The Celestial Aid Clinic swims behind your eyes. With it, the physician holding a special, secret place in your heart.

“It was good. It’s been slow because the nearby residents are doing so well. I suppose having the best doctor around helps with that,” you reply, as anguish washes through you at his apparent distance. He smiles a genuine smile, nodding softly. The conversation trails off, the waves crashing against the shore, the only sound in the still night. You lay under the stars together, your hands almost touching between you.

Your mind is loud, drowning out the serene atmosphere with thoughts of Sylus; his hands roaming your body, him filling you up so completely, making you feel pleasure unlike any you’ve known. You want to scream, cry, and rage at the heavens for blessing you with an utterly perfect man, only to throw three equally wonderful ones your way like a cruel, cosmic joke.

But your longing is so strong; it's a palpable entity now, demanding that you give in. Drawing closer to him is so natural; his face is all you see as your fervent murmur brushes over his face. “I can’t take it anymore…”

His eyes go wide, hesitant, terrified almost, as your lips meet his. But they part instantly, his tongue dancing with yours as he releases a pained groan. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you against him, his body arching into yours, mouth drifting along your neck.

It’s feverish; you both grasping each other like you can’t get close enough, like you’re desperately trying to become one.

When his lips touch your chest, reality sweeps through you, and you jerk back, overwhelmed with disgust at yourself. Your eyes go wide, and you don’t think; you just turn toward home, your feet moving fast as you try to outrun your guilt and the longing to return to him.

He watches you leave, an unavoidable, desperate feeling settling in his chest.

He should be the one swimming away. He’d had a feeling he shouldn’t come here tonight. He was familiar with the look developing in your gaze for him as the bond between you pulled insistently.

He picked up soft footsteps growing closer but didn’t bother to turn from your retreating form. “Seems you finally gave in,” Sylus’s deep tone breaks through the quiet night. “I thought you were “done” with this?” Sylus asks, his tone surprisingly gentle. Rafayel turns away as your figure disappears, giving Sylus a sad smile before turning to the sea, not bothering to respond.

“I was wagering my brother would give in first; you should see his face after he hears her cries of pleasure coming from my room. Those puppy eyes that always make her melt fill with anguish before he storms from the house…”

A rare anger toward the man flares, his chuckle grating on Rafayel’s nerves. Sylus is way too cocky this time around.

“Just because you’re the one she fell for first this time doesn’t mean you have any claim on her that the rest of us don’t, you know that,” he states, standing and preparing to leave. Now that you’re gone, he longs to feel the waters wrapping around him, helping to wash away the hurt that’s been swelling since you left.

“And you know it’s impossible to let go,” Rafayel says simply. His legs transform as he slides into the wave’s embrace, turning to the shore, his burning eyes locking on Sylus’s bright, carmine gaze. The wind howls, harmonizing with the roar of the restless surf as deep booms echo from the depths. Colorful fish scatter as the ocean deepens to a stormy hue, reflecting its deity's mood. “Here we go again,” Rafayel says with overwhelming sadness. The sea returns to its serene state, the waters becoming still once more, leaving Sylus alone with the lap of gentle waves on the shore. 

It’s a quick trip home from the beach, but it feels longer as he strolls, contemplating what he witnessed on the beach. Rafayel was right. This is only the beginning. The start of another turn in a painful cycle.

The cottage comes into view, its smooth, pale stone shimmering with the reflection of distant stars. It's Sylus’s favorite home, among the ones he’s shared with you. A serene blend of simplicity and magic in an idyllic town with cobblestone paths, streetlamps crafted from glowing crystals, and the smell of a small bakery. He’s accustomed to living a lavish lifestyle with you, but he’s surprised he enjoys this much more. It’s peaceful and meaningful, allowing for a deeper connection with the universe's beauty and you.

The rustic inside is a welcome sight, the flames of the fireplace dancing with hues of soft blues and purples, emitting warmth and a faint, calming melody. You and Xavier sit back to back on the shimmering wood that lines the walls, reading books on cloud-shaped cushions. His brother jerks away from you when he sees Sylus, quickly steadying you with a hand to your back and a mumble of “Sorry” before leaving the room, leaving you confused, your book hanging limply in your hand as your eyes search after him.

Sylus releases a frustrated sigh. He doesn’t understand why Xavier is being so hesitant this time around. Typically, he’s the first person to run to you in every life, leading the search for you across the cosmos.

But Sylus won the race this time, and though it wasn’t purposeful, it irks Xavier relentlessly. He knows damn well he could just sit you on his lap, your sweet cunt warming him as you read, and Sylus won’t do a damn thing about it. He could tell him that until he was blue in the face, but he wasn’t going to pull his brother’s dick out and plop you on it. Xavier was going to have to man up and get over it.

He scoops you up, plopping down on the softer couch and holding you close. He can sense hesitancy in how you hold him and sees the guilt in your gaze when you kiss him before turning your focus back to your book.

He aches to reassure you that you have no reason to feel guilty. But he knows you need time. Rafayel is in your life again. Your yearning for Zayne is now palpable. And though Xavier clearly can't see it, your need for him is more potent than all.

Your head plops against Sylus’s chest as you drift to sleep, and he gently removes the book from your hand, cradling your head. He holds you for a long while, listening to the soothing melody of the cosmos flickering in the air and wishing for time to slow down so you can be just his for a little longer. 

Sleep clings to you as you rise from bed—a powerful pull guides you down the hall on gentle feet. Xavier watches wide-eyed as you climb into his bed. There’s no hesitancy in you as your arms wrap around him, nestling against his chest. Slumber pulls you under immediately with a soft sigh of relief.

He isn’t sure what to do. His hands hover above your back, and his heart pounds in his chest. You’ve never done this before. Not in this life anyway.

Joy overwhelms him at you seeking him out. This is what he needs… What he always requires—for you to want him above all. For you to show him at least in some small way.

In most lives, he’s shared a bed with you and Rafayel, so you sleeping in someone else’s regularly doesn’t sit well with him, even if he knows it shouldn’t matter.

Holding you like this is a balm to his soul. Until you start mumbling his name with a familiar longing as your body presses closer. He grows hard instantly, the need for you tearing him apart.

It isn’t long before you grow still, thank the heavens, and Xavier sighs, holding you tighter and settling in for a long night. 

You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that one moment, you were in bed with Sylus, only to wake up in Xavier’s.

Did Sylus see you? He must have; there's no way around it.

You wonder how Xavier feels, but you haven’t had the chance to ask; he was gone when you woke up.

Nausea churns in your gut, intensifying when you see a figure exiting a treatment room, a tender smile gracing his stoic face. Ugh. Why does that sweet smile calm you instantly? Shouldn’t the fact that it does so feed the guilt within you?

The tranquility of the space and the gentle aroma of herbs and flowers from the garden you share out back add to the serene feeling within you.

Zayne’s office is composed of pale stone, with frosty veining that shimmers gently around delicate, frost-inspired engravings. Frosted glass panels with tiny snowflakes partition the rooms, with beds draped in soft, ethereal fabrics to match.

The space is warmth and ice intermingling harmoniously, perfectly representing the man himself. Your eyes browse the room as you praise your decorating skills.

Zayne touches your shoulder affectionately, a stern note in his voice. “You promised to take the day off today. You went so far as to pinky promise, in fact,” he accuses.

Your eyes dart to the bag in your hands nervously before you hold it out to him. You often grab lunch for Zayne to ensure he takes the time to eat. But you’ve never gone so far as to bring him a meal on your day off.

If he finds it odd, he doesn’t show it; he just regards it with a gentle expression and looks genuinely pleased. “It’s your favorite from the bakery near home. I mostly got sweets; I figured that would get you to eat if I’m not here to force you.”

He chuckles, taking the bag from your hands, his fingers lingering against yours momentarily. “You don’t have to force me; I’ll always do whatever it takes to ease your worries.”

A blush covers your cheeks at his words, and his smile grows wider as you glance away. “Um, I also came to ask if you’d like to try that new ice cream shop tonight,” you mumble sheepishly.

What is wrong with you? You didn’t come here to ask that. Only to drop the food off and leave. Why are you making things worse for yourself?

But, overall, Zayne is your friend, and going out with him is a regular occurrence. You can’t let your growing feelings create distance between you. Pleased, he nods his head. “I can meet you after I close up here,” he suggests.

You wonder how your heart can feel so light yet heavy at once as you head for heaven’s palace. 

Sylus has risen to the commander of the Heaven’s vanguard, with Xavier as his lieutenant. They work seamlessly together, and heaven’s forces have become unstoppable since taking charge.

You come to the training grounds at the palace often, having long sought to be able to protect yourself. A wish both brothers were eager to grant.

Maintaining your focus is tricky as you and Xavier dance.

The two of you are usually seamless, seemingly moving as one. But today, your balance feels off, your mind swarming with ever-nagging thoughts.

Concern fills Xavier’s face as his sword finds its place at his side. You try to avoid looking at how his thin white shirt clings to his chest or how good he looks when he pushes his damp hair back.“Is everything okay?” he asks softly.

You still haven’t spoken about what happened. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to bring it up, but now it doesn’t feel like the time. You see Sylus heading for the castle, so you nod, quickly bidding him goodbye as embarrassment floods you, leaving him confused.

Heading for Sylus's chambers, relief replaces shame as you meet his teasing gaze. “So, you’re running to me this time, kitten?” he drawls.

Shame hits you, only to be drowned out by Sylus wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing you. “It’s nothing to feel guilty about,” he murmurs, pressing you closer. You pull back instantly. “What do you mean it’s nothing to feel guilty about?! Of course, it is, Sylus. I sought your brother in my sleep and woke in his bed. That’s not nothing.”

Why did he always seem to be pushing you toward Xavier? It never ceased to confuse you.

“Look, I love you,” he states simply. “More than anything, I want you to be happy. If you need more than what I give you, then seek it. I’ll never hold that over you.”

You search his eyes. “I never want to make you feel like I need more. Plus, I don’t want you seeking anyone else, so it’d be selfish of me to do so,” you mumble sheepishly.

“I never said that I needed anything more,” he murmurs before his lips are on yours.

He sets you down long enough to tear off your clothes before you’re in his arms, and his cock is deep inside you.

His movements are frantic, but they slow as he carries you to the bed and hoists your legs, pressing as close as he can get with languid, deep strokes.

His eyes never stray from yours as he says, “No matter who or what you want, I’ll never leave you. Remember that.”

Tears fill your eyes at the sincerity in his words, at the way he makes love to you like you’re the most precious thing in this world.

He lets you flip him over as you move against him. Teasing your nipple and smacking your ass, a grin spreading across his face. You cover him in kisses, teeth working at his skin till he’s moaning beneath you, hands digging into your hips as he grinds you against him.

He rubs your clit as you bounce on his cock until you feel him tense and slow before he crushes your lips to his and presses deep as his essence fills you, dragging you over the edge with him.

Your eyes meet his as you stand in the shower. “I’m going out with Zayne tonight,” you say, your voice soft and guilty.

He smiles, kissing your head and stepping under the celestial waterfall whose perpetual warmth endlessly flows. “I promised someone one-on-one training tonight, so I’ll be home late anyway.”

You nod, excitement filling you at the prospect of seeing Zayne, even as you step closer to Sylus.  

“The name itself wins me over,” you state, looking at the sign above the door with Nebula Nibbles spelled out in twinkling stardust. Zayne softly chuckles as he opens the door for you.

The shop is cozy, with pastel tones, floating ice cream scoops, swirling constellations, and murals along the walls. And vibrant displays of scoops and enchanting jars containing sprinkles glow gently throughout the room.

Zayne tries stardust strawberry and nebula nougat while you opt for celestial carrot cake to irk him.

“You’re not allowed to try mine. You can’t reciprocate,” he states.

“That’s fair,” you giggle. But he ends up offering you some of each with a tender smile. “Did Miss Eloise come in today?” you ask, referring to the kind old lady who always brings along her tiny dog.

“She did; she asked about you.”

You sigh deeply. “I hate being off when Rupert comes in,” you pout.

You also hate being off since it’s a day away from Zayne.

Like twinkling stars, you take in the delicate fairy lights hanging around the exterior as you sit in comfortable silence on the couch. Your hands drift closer, pinkies touching. Neither of you moves, but the longing in the air is palpable.

He walks you home, casting his eyes on the luminescent stone’s gentle glow and the small, orb-like lights that hover gently along the edges of the pathway.

“Is everything okay? You haven’t spoken much tonight,” you observe.

He quirks a brow, the corners of his lips curving. “Neither have you,” he quips.

“That’s fair,” you mumble. It grows quiet again, but you step closer, giving him a soft smile.

Every bit of you aches to kiss him goodbye, but you settle for a hug. Before adding more, you need a little while to figure out how you feel about everything.

He stiffens before his arms wrap tightly around you, drawing you closer. He places a soft kiss on your head before he steps back with a sad smile. “Go to bed soon; it’s getting late,” he murmurs.

“Right back at you,” you pout. 

Xavier is cooking when you walk in, and your heart seizes before you realize the accompanying burnt scent isn’t lingering in the air.

“What are you making?” you ask hesitantly.

He gives you a knowing smirk, pulling a tray of freshly baked muffins from the oven. Muffins that look delicious and not burnt.

You can’t help the note of surprise in your voice as you say, “These are delicious!” the lunaberry-filled bread warming your insides. You narrow your eyes at him. “I detect foul play here,” you accuse, grabbing another muffin and walking away.

Hot water helps melt away stress, and the fragrance of celestial blooms is a soothing balm. Your mind drifts to Rafayel, and your hands trace your body as you pretend they belong to him.

Coming around your fingers with his name on your lips does nothing to ease your ache.

Within minutes, you’re running to the beach as fast as your feet can, pushing away every thought that tries to tear you from your goal.

He’s waiting for you, kissing you fiercely as you jump into his arms. You search his eyes, guiding him to the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” you admit, tears filling your eyes.

Acceptance and understanding fill his features as he murmurs, “I know.”

Gods, his lips are soft. You can’t help but nibble and suck, earning deep groans that make your world spin.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you whine, your body moving against him.

His movements grow hurried, freeing your breasts as he pulls your dress to your hips. Every pull of his lips and flick of his tongue is a wildfire, consuming you whole. He kneads firmly, his hand on your back as he helps you move faster.

You settle between his legs, moving to unbutton his pants, only to have your wrist caught in the process.

You pout at him, sitting back to give him space. “You don’t need to do that, cutie,” he says tenderly.

You move for him again, gaze earnest as you plead, “I want—no, need, to please you. Need to taste you as you cum. It hurts so badly,” you admit.

His throat bobs as he nods, helping you free his length. Of course, it’s as perfect as the rest of him, filling up your throat as you gag around it. You worship the thick head, eagerly lapping up the essence that drip out. “You taste so good,” you groan, bobbing as you suck and slurp around him.

He’s quietly whimpering, head thrown back in ecstasy as he bites his lip harshly, hips making tiny pumps into your mouth.

You find that you love teasing him, making relentless eye contact as you playfully circle and suck the ridges, murmuring, “cum for me… please?”

A faint glow appears above his heart as he nods feverishly, hands tangling in your hair as he holds you against him. He moves slow and deep before he’s still, and his warmth fills your throat. You hum happily around him, swallowing it all down, working him til he’s whining.

He’s so cute. His puffy lips and rosy cheeks, that perfect pout as he lays you on the sand, mumbling, “need to taste you just as bad…” before your panties tear off, and his tongue traces over you.

It’s soft and warm, aware of every spot that makes you squirm beneath it. Your thighs squeeze his face as you move against him, delighting in his slick chin as he meets your eyes and slips his fingers inside you.

He can’t take his gaze away from where you join, from you squeezing him tightly as he slides in and out. His mouth takes you fully, passionately working as he moves inside you, moaning eagerly against you.

The sight of him sucking your clit is all it takes to have your walls fluttering around him as a sharp cry leaves your lips. His fingers slip out as your knees frame your face, and his tongue dips in, pumping wildly until your pussy stills. Even then, he licks up every drop that leaves you, leaving you a moaning mess.

You pull your legs back further, loving the way his eyes latch onto your dripping core, still pulsing from the absence of him. “Need you to cum inside here, too,” you whisper, your eyes pleading with him. He curses softly, wasting no time at all before he’s burying himself deep, groaning against your neck as he bottoms out.

As he fills you up, an image flashes in your mind—you and Rafayel joined just like this, but at another time, another era.

That overwhelming sense of worship fills you again as you clench him tighter, pulling him close.

“I’ve missed you so much, my lord… missed you inside me so much,” leaves your lips on a sob without you fully realizing it, so lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He stills, eyes wide as his fingers dimple your skin.

Suddenly you’re on all fours, ass rising in the air as he grips you tight, fucking you roughly. Your back arches deep, cunt squeezing around him so tight he can barely breathe as he grabs your swaying breast.

“Best follower I could ever ask for…” he praises, earning a pitiful whimper from you and the pulsing of your pussy as you come around him, tears overflowing from the pleasure.

His thrusts turn sloppy as you get incredibly slick and warm, walls still pulsing around him. He guides you onto his lap, pressing deep while his hands move your hips. You take over, though, bouncing eagerly on his cock as you chase your next orgasm.

Every touch from him is like the most potent drug; every high is so intense it renders you helpless.

You need more.

You need this forever.

“I love it when you use me,” he mumbles, hands traveling your skin as he nips at your breast. You hold his mouth to the sensitive bud, forcing him to suck as you ride him.

Your hands cup his chin as you kiss his neck, licking the soft blue scales appearing on his skin, pulling a deep cry from him as his hips pump sharply.

“This isn’t enough…” you mumble pathetically, regretting your words when he stills and his eyes quietly assess you.

He brushes your hair back, kissing you gently. “I can help. But you’ll need to trust me,” he says, his tone suddenly serious.

You nod, whispering, “Always,” without hesitation.

He scoops you up, legs transforming as he glides into the water.

You can’t help tracing the soft, translucent blue scales along his tail, mirroring the play of the night sky against the sea’s surface.

Blushes of pink and purple merge seamlessly with blue along the fin's delicate edges, like the pattern of flickering flames.

Awe, sparkles in your eyes. Your arms wrap around his neck as you whisper, “You are so beautiful.” To which he blushes fiercely.

Something incredibly thick prods at your entrance, excitement and arousal flooding you as you realize what it is. You bounce eagerly, a grin spreading across your face.

He smiles, fingers dimpling your ass as he guides you. “Calm down, cutie, it’ll hurt at first…”

You go still, another vision flashing—his cock inside you while the waters splash around you.

You snap back, searching his gaze.

“Rafayel, do we know each other?”

He cups your face, smiling even as he looks so sad. “Maybe we’ve met in another life.”

His lips crush yours before you respond, and he gently pushes you onto him. You watch where you join, dripping around his impossibly thick length, much bigger than his human form, though similar in appearance.

It extends seamlessly from the tail, the softest, prettiest blues with delicate pink veins.

And the ridges… Hitting every spot just right as he fills you up.

Cries of pain and pleasure echo in the night as he bottoms out, your pussy stretching so wide around him it doesn’t seem physically possible.

He’s nervously gauging your reaction, but you pull him close, nuzzling against him as you bounce slowly. He holds you tight and lets you do as you please, just gently riding him as he presses kisses to your skin.

“This is what I need,” you murmur dreamily. “To worship my god in his truest form.”

He curses softly, impaling you, cock pushing into you so deep you see stars. Fervent murmurs of “harder” and his name fill the air as the sea roils around you, glowing with excited, colorful fish.

He doesn’t mean to whisper, “I’ve missed you so much…” with his face buried in your neck, but he doesn’t mind the slip since you earnestly reply, “I’ve missed you too,” before latching onto him for dear life and meeting him stroke for stroke.

He stills, resting where the water meets the sand, propping up on his hands and guiding you on top. He watches as he pushes inside you, gently commanding, “Show me how much.”

More than happy to oblige, you smile and nod, turning into a slut before his very eyes.

It’s endearing, as always. Tits bouncing wildly in his face as your demanding little hand presses him against them with a needy whine.

“So needy,” he teases. “Can’t let you go so long without my cock next time, yeah?”

“Speaking of, you waited entirely too long this time. You could have taken me weeks ago. Aren’t gods supposed to be merciful to their followers?” you mumble grumpily before your world turns upside down.

Memories upon memories.

Puzzle pieces slide into place as you scream in agony.

You and Rafayel are living so many lives together before your very eyes, lives filled with indescribable happiness and joy.

Some images are distorted, blurry renditions with other unidentifiable people. Something that leaves you frustrated for reasons you can’t explain.

The world spins as you meet his concerned eyes, feeling him grip your face as he watches you with eyes full of disbelief. Your eyes shine with understanding and tears as you whisper, “My husband.”

He hasn’t heard his favorite name leave your lips since the first lifetime. If your cunt weren’t keeping him grounded, he’d surely pass away from happiness.

Horror fills your eyes as you realize, “How could I forget you? I always forget you…”

Sobs wrack through you as you whisper, “I’m so sorry,” again and again, holding him close as you rock him, his tears dropping on your skin.

He meets your gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says softly, firmly.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Causing others' pain is something to be sorry for!”

He brushes your hair back, giving you a tender, sad smile. You groan softly at how the slight movement makes him jerk inside you. He starts to guide your hips, but you catch his hands. “Why are you still here?” you plead.

Why is he still here so many lifetimes later, when all you’ve truly done is cause him pain?

Confusion fills his features before understanding does. He nuzzles you, whispering, “Because I love you, princess,” before his lips capture yours.

You can’t stop crying, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He kisses your tears as his fall silently, a look of sheer joy playing on his face. The boundaries he’s held around himself all these centuries are long gone; there is no hesitancy in his touch, no sadness clouding the lust.

You sit back with a wide smile as he watches you move. The friction of his soft scales against your inner thighs and his skin under your nails as you grip him is everything.

It makes a bit more sense now why your coupling feels so perfect.

It’s written in the stars.

Wonder and awe shine in his eyes as he squeezes your tit, grinning and guiding your hips. “You take me so well, cutie,” he praises with a firm smack to your ass.

“Harder,” you murmur, your cries of the word getting louder with each slap until you’re moving against each other so fervently you can hardly breathe, your cheeks red and tingly.

Your fingers tangle in his damp hair as your pussy pulses around him, and you press him deep. He feels you soak him as his cock gets messy. He buries his face in your neck with a hoarse shout, hot essence filling you in thick bursts as he throbs inside you.

Your heart pounds as you make a foolish decision.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?”

Surprise fills his eyes as he grins. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?” he teases.

You nod, pushing away the embarrassment and guilt.

Sylus gives him a subtle nod when he enters, ruffling your hair and gently kissing you before retreating from the room.

Rafayel had been selfish; he hadn’t even considered who his presence might hurt. Wide blue eyes watch him from the sofa as you grab his hand and lead him to your room.

He’s inside you for hours before exhaustion finally takes you, with you shamelessly crying his name loud enough for the whole house to hear.

Xavier enters quietly, murmuring, “Would it be okay if I stay a little while?” He folds Xavier against him, running his fingers through his hair.

“This sucks,” Xavier mumbles petulantly, his deep pout forcing Rafayel to hold back laughter.

He moves over him, whispering, “Let us make it better,” before his tongue meets his.

Feeling each other's touch after so long is renewing. And they meld together so easily.

Xavier groans in pain as Rafayel pulls the covers down, revealing your bare form. He frees Xavier's length, running his fingers through your folds gently and scooping your essence onto his cock.

He lives for the cute little moans Xavier releases as he breaks under his hold.

“You can touch her, you know. I won’t tell.” He nips his ear playfully.

Xavier blushes and shakes his head.

“She always likes it,” he reassures, guiding Xavier to your breast.

From there, it’s easy. Xavier carefully tucks you under his arm as he lays back, fingers pinching and tugging your breasts as Rafayel strokes him. His hips buck up, and he reaches over to tease your clit, marveling at your slickness with a quiet curse.

He has you whimpering in your sleep, moaning his name when you don’t even know it’s him, coming around his fingers as cum coats his stomach and Rafayel eases him through the waves.

He holds you for a while, but he’s gone when you wake up. Rafayel is as well, with a note that says he’ll meet up with you later.

You’re running for Sylus immediately, guilt washing over you as you throw open the door and meet his gaze. “Morning, kitten,” he murmurs, a small smile curving his lips.

His arms gather you up without hesitation, his kisses soft and searching as you travel each other's skin.

“Were you not sated last night, sweetie?” he teases, smacking a breast and admiring its bounce.

“Can never get enough of you, Sy,” you say, moving between his legs.

He tastes so good. Pleasing him is a powerful aphrodisiac; his moans and gasps make your body sing.

Such a powerful presence, yet you can make him whimper beneath you in moments.

You work him fervently until he’s spilling in your throat before sliding him inside your cunt while he still twitches.

“I thought about you last night,” you admit, fingers tracing his perfect lips. His cock hardens again at your admission.

He growls, grabs your throat, and moves your hips, waiting for you to say more.

“Rafayel was deep inside me, and I kept thinking how good it would feel if you were too,” you whined, getting tighter at the image.

Sylus chuckles, nodding to where you join, where you struggle to take him. “We’ll shred you into ribbons, kitten,” he teases before flipping you over and pinning you down.

His pace is punishing, the grip of his hands possessive and painful.

You’re sobbing into the comforter as he takes you, commanding you to tell him you’re his over and over. “Again, sweetie.” More sharp slaps to your thighs and ass and pinches to your clit.

“I said you can fuck whoever you like. I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you pay,” he sneers, impaling the breath from your lungs.

He chokes you so hard your vision swims as he makes you tell him how good he feels inside you.

Needy and demanding of reassurance.

He had no reason to be upset, and he knows it. This is a song he’s sung time and again.

But his grip painfully tightens as he rubs your clit, feeling you tremble and cry around him, flooding his cock with warmth. His hips slam deep, filling you up with a horse shout, his teeth finding your shoulder with a sharp bite.

His mood improves instantly. He’s wrapping you in his arms, wiping your tears, and telling you it's alright.

“That was nice and all, but I’m starting to think you’re not as okay with this as you lead on,” you accuse hoarsely, massaging your sore skin.

He chuckles, tucking you against his chest and kissing your head. “I said I’m okay with it, kitten. I didn’t say I like it.” That wasn’t entirely the truth.

“You’re just telling me this now!?” you huff, giving his ankle a hard kick.

His laughter fills the room as he dodges your next attack, pinning you down on the bed and kissing you with a mischievous smile. “After they finish with you, do I have permission to fuck you however I please?” he murmurs.

Confusion fills your features. “They?”

“Answer me, sweetie.”

You nod softly. “You can always do as you please,” you whisper.

His cock fills you again, and this time, he makes love to you slowly, tenderly, as his lips gently trace the bruises he left on your skin. 

You try hard to hide the faint bruise on your neck, and everything is going well until you and Zayne are on the way back from lunch when you get hot and foolishly unbutton your collar.

His eyes go distant, and he’s quiet on the way back to the clinic. Mumbled responses and a cold expression are all he gives before disappearing into his office and locking the door.

You’re floating with joy, but you feel like a deflated balloon under the weight of his energy. The hurt that flashes in his eyes when he sees Sylus’s handprint replays in your mind on a loop as you clean exam rooms.

You’re humming a melody to cheer yourself when Zayne walks in, closing the door softly behind him.

He crosses his arms, eyes searching yours as his low voice pierces the air.“

Why are you denying yourself of me?”

You freeze, your mouth hanging open as you stumble over your words. “Uh, what? I’m n-not—I just,” you mumble pathetically, glancing anywhere but at him.

He tilts your chin, his smirk teasing as he quips, “Yes. You are.”

Your eyes narrow as irritation swirls through you.

There seems to be an abundance of cocky, overly-familiar men in your life, and some of them are a little too mouthy of late.

“What makes you think you know what I want?” you snap softly.

He hovers over you, lips inches from you as he angles your face. His low voice makes your body heat.

“So, you don’t like it when I do this, then?” he asks, pressing his lips to yours.

You zap to life, excitement dancing in you as you shrug, murmuring, “It’s not awful...”

He hums, nodding, tracing his tongue over your ear, biting gently.

“And this?” he breathes. Your body is limp in his arms as he unbuttons your collar, lips brushing over your skin like a soothing mist.

“It’s nice,” you admit, blushing when his eyes heat, and he murmurs, “Just nice?”

He kisses you again, wrapping you around him.

“Because this is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he says earnestly, capturing your mouth passionately.

You hold him tight but groan in frustration, your balled fist gently smacking him. His soft laugh fills the air.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, trying and failing to keep his tone serious as he watches your outburst.

You sigh dramatically and wiggle around. “Everything is just so weird lately…” You whine, giving him a dire look.

“You should honestly stay far away from me,” you tell him in a firm tone, your expression dead-serious, to which he just grins.

“Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He sets you on the exam table, a mirthful glint in his eyes as snowflake-print latex traces your skin.

“W-what are you doing…” your voice is hesitant as he unbuttons your top, quickly pushing your bra down to free your breasts. They’re in his mouth before you can even protest. Not that you would. The pull of his lips and the flick of his tongue have you arching into his mouth with needy little whines as you pull him closer.

He hums happily at your reaction to his touch, feeling more at ease than in years. Perhaps since the last time he held you in his arms.

You eagerly search every bit of him you can reach, every touch fueling the desire to bend you over this table and show you how much he’s missed you.  But he prides himself on his patience and can hold out a little longer.

Plus, one of his favorite things in every lifetime is driving you mad until you're begging him to fill you for the first time.

In a particularly cherished memory, you push him down in frustration at his game, tugging his pants down and sitting on his cock without a second thought. He smiles softly as the image swims in his mind, pulling down your shorts and lacey ivory thong, one that sends him reeling.

You gasp softly as he props your legs next to you, spreading you open as you turn away, blushing fiercely. He guides your gaze to his. “Eye’s on me, little one,” he murmurs, ensuring you listen before he fixes his attention with a content hum as he holds you open, playing messily, coating you with firm strokes back and forth.

Worry flows through you as you stop him, anxiety clear in your voice as you ask, “Is anyone here?”

“Rupert and Eloise are waiting on lab results in exam room three. Better keep quiet,” he murmurs before his finger slides inside you, toying with your g-spot with a pained groan as you squeeze him tightly.

Out and in, then he circles your clit. Over and over until keeping quiet is near impossible.

You pray Miss Eloise’s long-distance hearing isn’t great because the cry of pleasure you release when Zayne’s mouth closes over you is feral. You hold him against you, grinding against his face fervently as his tongue dips inside and his nose brushes your clit with each movement.

“Look at me,”  he reminds softly before his fingers set a steady pace, edging you until you’re whimpering his name, begging him for release. 

He holds your face, forcing you to watch his fingers move inside you.

“Look at how wet you are... Making such a mess,” he scolds, awe filling his features as he watches you drip onto the shimmering fabric.

“Come for me now, love. Let me see,’ he commands softly.

You keep his gaze as pleasure washes through you, whimpering pathetically as his fingers tease you until you’re begging for him to stop.

A tender smirk crosses his face as he pulls your pants up and fixes your top, brushing your hair back into place with a chaste kiss to your head.

You reach for his pants eagerly, but he catches your hand.

“Let’s save that for another day,’’ he says gently before shutting the door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

You look around the room, wide-eyed and sated at the mess you made.

Zayne was his usual stoic self for the rest of the day, acting as if nothing had happened. But he did ask if you want to go to a movie tomorrow, blushing fiercely.

Interacting with Xavier has never been awkward until now.

You’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, taking turns reading Destined in Starlight, a series you both enjoy. He picked up the newest novel today, seeming eager to start reading when you got home.

But as his soft voice fills the air, something unidentifiable creeps in, and his face takes on a distant edge.

He scoots further away at one point with a soft, frustrated sigh. You scoot closer immediately in retaliation, and he sighs again, resignation in his features as the story continues.

Now he’s silent, staring at the softly glowing stars floating throughout the room, arms crossed, his brows scrunched in thought.

You’re just staring at him, frustration swirling through you.

You speak at the same time.

“What is stuck up your butt right now?”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night.”

Ah.

Suddenly, you feel more guilty than ever.

For some reason, the hurt in his cerulean eyes hits you harder than anything else has.

You reach for him, but he jerks away, cracking your heart as he glares at you.

“Has anything else happened?” He asks accusingly.

Rafayel’s face swims in your mind—your literal husband. Then Zayne’s, his chin glistening with your essence.

Your eyes dart away as you blush fiercely, telling him all he needs to know. He huffs a laugh, hanging his head and nodding, almost emotionless.

Then he walks out of the house. 

Stones shimmer softly underfoot like twinkling stars as you walk through the park hand in hand with Sylus.

He admires the fairy lights strung along the bushes before turning to you with a gentle smile.

He took the news about Zayne well. Or at least he did an excellent job at pretending.

You cuddle together in the star-gazing meadow, surrounded by moon-themed cushions, admiring the open sky. The park provides telescopes and illustrated guides, telling stories of constellations and mythical sky creatures.

Sylus points out a particular constellation as you roll your eyes: Corvus, the Star Crow, the wise and watchful deity overseeing the balance between life, death, and transformation.

Figures.

“Have you ever heard of the Constellation of Kindred Spirits, kitten?” He asks suddenly, his voice hinting at sadness as he points to the cosmos. You shake your head.

“Representing deep connections and soul bonds with individuals,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek before motioning to another.

“That star-cluster is special. The Constellation of Radiant Heart. Standing for love, compassion, and the internal light that guides the soul.”

You watch him closely, feeling something stir within you. Some inexplicable feeling of understanding.

Strange, since you understand nothing at all.

“They compliment each other well, enhancing shared connections and destined relationships...” He pulls you close and kisses your head, saying nothing more, which you find odd. The night trails into a comfortable silence as you hold each other.

Why are his words running on a constant loop in your head, like a mystery you can’t solve?

Rafayel texts you to let you know he can’t make it over. Which is fine; you don’t want to leave Sylus’s side anyway. Later that night, you cradle his head as his breath evens out, stroking his hair softly.

Now that you’re alone, your thoughts and emotions run through you so quickly that you can’t make sense of them.

You feel incredibly guilty for not telling and Xavier about your restored memories, but how do you even broach that conversation? “Hey, so I’ve been married for centuries but, like, I didn’t know though, so it’s cool, right?”  

No.

You want to check on Xavier but can’t handle his anger right now.

You miss Zayne and Rafayel.

And more than anything, you wish they were all cuddled up with you, a vivid image that has your thighs pressing together and a moan slipping out.

You tuck yourself against Sylus with a sigh, wishing this wasn’t so unbearable. 

Guardians of the Cosmic Veil is awful. It’s a hate-watch for you and Zayne now.

The theatre is nearly empty because most people left a few minutes in. You haven’t left because you enjoy each other's company and Zayne’s dry humor.

“I think the plot got lost somewhere in the cosmic void—and nobody bothered to retrieve it.”

“It’s like escaping to a world where entertainment doesn’t exist.”

“This truly is taking me to another realm—one where I question my life choices for watching it.” 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you close as his hand trails up your thigh.

He’s not watching the movie at all. He’s too focused on the damp spot he sees when he pushes your dress up.

You gasp, wide-eyed gaze searching his as his fingers trail over it with a pleased hum. “Zayne—”

He rests his head against yours, kissing your cheek. “Shh. Let me take care of you.”

He’s pushing your panties aside and filling you in seconds, smiling as you make a soft noise of pleasure, and the person a few rows in front of you turns and makes eye contact.

You pray the lady can’t see you blushing as you wave and mouth an apology, narrowing your eyes at Zayne even as your hand travels to his cock, palming this thick length.

Gods, he’s going to feel so good inside you.

He moans quietly at your touch, pressing your hand down hard and grinding into it before collecting himself.

He must like it when you watch because he guides your face again, murmuring, “Look how beautiful you are.”

His hand is so sticky, his long fingers slipping in and out—one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Him biting his lip harshly, his brows scrunching as he tries to hold back how good you’re making him feel is a close second.

The tighter the band grows in your core, the harder your hand works his cock, the material of his pants rubbing you raw.

You’re both doing a poor job of staying quiet now. The lady in front of you walks out. You hope it’s because of the terrible film, but you highly doubt it since she casts a disgusted look in your direction as she leaves. You can’t help but giggle, earning a soft smile as his fingers fuck you harder.

Squelching sounds fill the theatre as you grip his hand and ride it until you’re breathless and weak. You keep working him as you lick his fingers clean, eyes never leaving his hooded gaze.

His cock twitches violently, and you giggle as he curses and trembles, watching a dark stain spread on his pants.

“Little minx,” he accuses with a tender smile.

On the walk out, his cheeks are cherry-red, and he makes you pay by fingering you in the parking lot until you are well past overstimulated and begging him to stop.

The stain on his pants gets wider without you even touching him. 

You’re half asleep, standing in Xavier’s doorway again.

He sits up, watching you climb into bed with a look of hesitation on his face.

“I thought you have company,” he says, moving aside instead of pulling you close.

“Why are you so upset with me, Xai?” you mumble, a sleepy pout on your face that melts his heart.

He looks away, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

You hum sweetly, poking his arm. “Someone is full of it,” you tease.

He catches your hand and the other when it moves next, with a fierce look in his eyes. You don’t think; you just sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose and reveling in the surprise on his face.

“Are you mad because you wish you could do this?” you murmur, kissing him gently as your heart soars.

“Or maybe because you want to see these?” you ask, freeing your breasts with a smile at the desire clouding his features. He grips your thighs tightly, dimpling your skin as his throat bobs.

You take his hand, guiding it to your damp boxers—boxers he notices are his.

He hasn’t seen those in forever...

Joy overwhelms him—you had wanted him all this time.

Watching you bond with everyone but him was torture. He’s always believed you share something special that isn’t there with the others. So it was like a slap in the face when you seemed to prove otherwise.

He’d been too stupid, too slow—Sylus had latched onto your essence across the cosmos, rushing over immediately. By the time Xavier arrived, you were already head over heels, and even though it shouldn't, it felt wrong to intrude.

“Maybe you’re longing to fuck this?” you murmur.

He shakes his head, rubbing you delicately. “I don’t want those things—I need them… I need you.”

He cradles your head as he kisses you. First, soft and slow, then he’s pulling you tight against him as his tongue searches your mouth.

He feels like coming home after the worst day.

Like finding your guiding star in an endless night sky.

His touch elicits things you’ve never felt before, and he’s barely touching you. Just tracing shapes over your back and thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulders, and the swell of your breasts.

It’s absolutely ruining you.

Gripping your hair tight and tilting your head back so your pretty tits arch in his face, his lips and teeth in harmony to create faint bruises as he takes on a more possessive edge.

Every effort to get you closer, every mark that blooms, every rough grab of his hands that leave their sign, feels like an effort to claim what’s his.

You let him do as he pleases, gasping in a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, taking it like “his good little girl.”

You’re nothing but a doll on his lap. A mere plaything. And he’s really missed his favorite toy.

Your tits are red and puffy from the abuse of his mouth and hands, and your lips are slick and swollen as whimpers slip out.

“F-feels so gooood…” you sigh, a dreamy expression on your face as you watch him.

Lust shines in his blue eyes, their depths seeming unfathomable. The anger he’s trying to work off sharpens his features; his brows knit, and his jaw clenches as he uses you, looking nothing like the Xavier you know.

The soft, gentle man who holds a special place in your heart is long gone.

Honestly? You aren’t sure which version you like better.

“I missed you so much…” he whispers, confusion rising like a familiar friend.

There it is again.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Rafayel said the same thing.

And just like you had then, you earnestly reply, “I missed you, too,” without thinking.

He says something, but you can’t hear it because a terrible pain shoots through your head, sending you into a void of swirling images from different times and different eras—all containing the man beneath you. Tears spill over as you murmur his name,  and he holds you tight, rocking you back and forth as worry rages in him.

Lifetimes of the most tender love you’ve ever known and the most profound friendship you’ve ever had flash before your eyes.

The missing pieces settle in your heart as it mends, repairing the thread that binds your souls together.

He comforts you in silence while you cry, but it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to talk to say something. Meeting his eyes, your gaze wide and pained, you cup his cheek, whispering, “I remember… everything,” in a small, scared voice.

You can’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean, but hope flares in him even as he fights it.

Your hands ball into fists as you hit him weakly, your tears welling over while emotions hit you so hard they make you feel sick. “What are you doing here!?” you ask, your voice breaking as you hit him again, only to have your arms pinned.

“I don’t understand,” he says softly, which frustrates you more. His kind, loving voice is like a knife to your heart.

“We promised each other, Xavier! In our first life, we promised to move on if anything happened. Specifically, we said there would be no endless searches through the cosmos,” you accuse, struggling against his hold.

His eyes widen, and his body locks up with a look of sheer disbelief. Your frustration softens a little at the tears slipping down his cheeks. You kiss some away and rest your head against his. “You were supposed to keep living, to go on and be happy, not waste your life in an endless cycle of torment. You aren’t leashed to me like Raffie... You have no responsibility to me.”

He releases his hold, smiling softly as his thumb circles your nipple. He realizes then that you don’t quite know everything… But he’ll take what he can get.

“You must have known I wouldn’t listen. Besides, would you truly not have searched for me if you remembered?” he asks, and his question hits home. You deflate like a balloon, your exasperation leaving you as sadness replaces it.

Pain shoots through your head again, so much worse than before. And then—Every puzzle piece clicks into place, and the finished product is a rendition of eternal love and devotion written in the stars.

Centuries ago, a foretold alignment of planets occurred as the sky vibrated with ethereal energy, giving constellations a front-row seat to the grand celestial ballet.

Mere patterns of stars were imbued with life, transforming into beings of radiant light and consciousness.

Five extraordinary stars came to life that day—The Constellation of Radiant Heart, representing compassion, love, and the internal light guiding one’s soul.

Kindred Spirits: deep connections and soul bonds between individuals.

Frosted Bloom: purity, resilience, and the delicate beauty of life in cold environments.

Eternal Flame: enduring passion, resilience, and the warmth of everlasting love.

And Eternal Union: the timeless bond between soulmates and love’s enduring nature across lifetimes.

You, Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier.

The constant pull to reach each other began instantly, bringing you and Rafayel together, with the others following soon after.

The foretold prophecy was whispered anew as word of your existence spread. It spoke of great power and the consequences of it being misused or led astray.

Signs pointed to your union being the power spoken of, as it embodies constellations that, when aligned, wield an offspring of energy capable of shifting the balance between light and darkness.

Of unhinging the very fabric of reality.

A council of gods striving to maintain this delicate balance intervened to prevent such possibilities, knowing that love, while powerful, could be unpredictable. 

Celestial threads were disrupted, corrupting their natural flow to keep you separated.

Yet, you naturally gravitate together—a cosmic force of nature beyond control, contributing subtly to the balance of creation. Such that your rediscovery of each other seems harmonious, like a divine occurrence, allowing it to slip right under the radar.

A fierce deity named Astra sent out a wave across the cosmos, selectively targeting your memories of the others.

You have no idea what broke the spell. Hopefully, Astra is dead; whatever it is,  you thank the gods for it.

You snap to reality, your eyes locking with Xavier’s as you smile, whispering, “My guiding star, come to life…” with wonder in your voice.

“Now I see,” you tease softly, cupping his cheeks as you both begin to cry.

Your lips find his, and the way you make out feels like it did the first time. His hand slips into your boxers, a low groan leaving him when he feels how wet and warm you are.

His fingers play in the slickness before they fill you, pumping deep and fast as he squeezes your breast, watching your every reaction.

Suddenly he’s freeing his cock, tearing your bottoms for easier access, and all but impaling you.

His hand grips the nape of your neck, guiding your head to his, as his arm winds around your waist, pulling you closer.

“You wanna apologize for taking so long to let me have you this time? Bet you're regretting it now that you remember my cock is your favorite,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your ass as he lifts you to the tip and down to a languid rhythm.

“Say it—tell me you’re sorry,” he demands softly, mouth finding your breast as he waits for your response.

“I am sorry,” you say, meaning it. He pushes deep, stilling you, his eyes searching yours.

“I know it irks you that you were last in line,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face.

His eyes narrow with a playful expression as he bites your boob. Hard.

He devours your shriek, throwing you on the bed and spreading you wide, fingers fucking you until you're crying his name.

His cock slips inside, lips curving with a soft smile, his eyes full of love, as he fucks you like it's all you’re suitable for.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he instructs calmly, with an almost bored tone, as he watches you squirm beneath him.

His cock stabs you sharply when you don’t respond.

“Fuck! It f-feels amazing. It always feels amazing!”

His pleased hum fills the air, sending shivers down your spine. “And whose cock is best?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

He’s playing like it’s a joke, but you know he’s serious.

He rubs your clit hard, gripping your throat as he hovers over you. “Well. What’s your answer?” he murmurs, kissing you softly.

You can’t see straight from him fucking you so hard, and he’s cutting off your air just right, causing pleasure to curl painfully, just waiting to snap.

“Yours, Xavier! Gods, you know that!” you sigh in exasperation, rolling your eyes to the heavens.

Xavier is the most jealous, hands down, with Raf close behind. Xavier needs constant reassurance of how much he means to you. If he doesn't get it, he’s either pouty or he’s destroying your poor body out of spite; there is no in-between.

“Good girl,” he coos, pushing your legs back and settling over you, teeth teasing your ear as he whispers, “And who do you love most?”

Your pussy tightens painfully, pulling him in deep as you kiss him and ease his worries.

“You Xai. It’s always been you silly.”

He makes a sweet, happy sound, his ears turning pink as he hides his face. The band in your core snaps so suddenly, hurtling you into an orgasm painful in its intensity.

You’re making such a mess, his cock squelching around so loud.

He’s slamming into you, watching you suck him in, whimpering as his hips slow and his essence warms you.

Then his total weight is on you, showering you with kisses til you're breathless and giggling. The storm in his eyes calms, and he can’t keep the smile off his face as he repeats, “I missed you so much!” with another little nuzzle.

Sylus walks in so quietly that you don’t hear him until his breath is against your skin.

“Seems our little pet has been keeping secrets,” he drawls.

His hand begins to trace your body, and Xavier leans back, hips resuming their pace as he spreads your legs and shifts his focus to where you join.

You groan, squirming around, grinding against him as excitement stirs.

You love it when they play with their toy together.

“When were you planning to tell me, sweetie? Your memories have been bubbling up for a while now,” he accuses, giving your breast a light slap with a teasing grin before he makes his way to your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles in time with Xavier’s thrusts.

Xavier’s watching Sylus’s fingers swirl above his cock, slipping in an out of you, a dazed, heady feeling taking over him as his soft voice reaches your ears like the embodiment of sin for someone seemingly so pure.

“Getting so tight… You always have liked it best when we fuck you together, huh?”

Sylus chuckles, capturing your whimper as Xavier’s pace quickens, cute little sounds leaving him as his fingers coat you messily, gripping your thighs tight with sloppy pumps of his hips.

“How much do you remember?’ Sylus inquires, his breath brushing your ear before trailing along your neck.

“Everything,” you murmur breathlessly. His gaze seeks yours, features full of disbelief and wonder.

“Everything?” he repeats, scared to believe it.

Tears fill your eyes, and a smile spreads wide as you nod fervently. His hand squeezes your cheeks, and his kiss takes your breath away.

“Well then, I guess you see that you owe us. We follow you across the cosmos… You put us through so much, kitten,” he says, his tone sweet yet mocking.

You roll your eyes, tossing him an exasperated glare. “You know well that you chase each other, not just me, jackass.”

You are shimmering stars that are only whole when together.

“Doesn't matter,” he says, freeing his cock; he turns your head and wets your lip with his essence. “Time to pay up.”

You act annoyed, but in reality, having them fill you at once and using you for their pleasure in such a primal way is sheer ecstasy.

Xavier’s teasing you, pressing kisses to your neck and cheeks while he murmurs filth in your ear, watching you choke around Sylus.

“I know you can take him better than that, angel.”

“No fair, Sy! Your cock is bigger this time. It doesn’t even fit.”

“Our perfect little star… You know you were made just for us, right?”

“Go on, tell him whose cock makes you feel best.”

That one earns him a knock upside the head as Sylus pushes him back.

Xavier’s soft laugh fills the air, hips resuming their unforgiving pace.

He cherishes making love to you so much more than having this resolute goal of destroying your body. But he's enjoying working off his pent-up frustration.

He also prefers having you all to himself. But something in the bond you all share makes sharing you feel like the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus has already clued Zayne and Rafayel in. Zayne is straight-up rushing over. Raf busts into the room now, jumping to your free side and overwhelming your cheek with kisses.

“Hey there, cutie,” he says, his radiant smile lighting his features and melting your heart.

His gaze drifts to Xavier’s pistoning cock, with a small, heated breath of, “Oh.” He teases your clit and Xavier's shaft with gentle fingers, lust clouding his face.

“Are they making you feel good?” he murmurs, watching Sylus fuck your mouth as you choke and nod, his fingers circling faster.

“Yeah? Just wait. I’ll make you feel so much better than they are,” he promises.

“Eyes on me now, sweetie,” Sylus commands, tugging your hair to angle your face. 

“You’ll take it all like a good girl,” he commands, fucking your throat so deep you lose the ability to breathe.

Rafayel’s mouth sucks and bites your breasts, teasing your nipples and palming your clit while his fingers play with Xavier, whose ruining your cunt, murmuring about how “You’re taking them so well” and telling Raf not to stop.

Sylus stills, cock throbbing as he releases so much cum you can barely get it down. Xavier’s warmth fills you next, and you tumble over with him, crying out around Sylus as pleasure rolls through you.

You’re so blissed-out you barely register being scooped up and carried to the pull-out sofa as Rafayel states he needs more room. He lowers you onto him, entering you gently, but the way he grips your thighs when he bottoms out is anything but.

He leans back and gets comfy, a teasing grin on his face as he commands, “Make me feel good first, princess. I’ll reward you after.”

He makes no move to help you; he just smiles and praises you while you bounce on his cock, dazed and trying to stay up on shaky legs.

You bury your face against him, switching to a slow grind, whining, “You feel so good, baby.” He groans, flipping you on your stomach instead and lifting your ass high, delivering gentle slaps that contradict his unforgiving pace. It only lasts a minute, though, as it slows at Zayne’s presence.

Zayne’s voice overwhelms your senses, murmuring, “Hello, beautiful.” He helps you prop up on the back of the sofa, kneeling so he can kiss you. He strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours tenderly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says with a small smile.

“Zayniee!” you say dreamily. “Wanna taste you sooo bad,” you whine, earning a gentle laugh.

“I can arrange that,” he says, undoing his belt slowly. You open wide, moaning in pleasure as he pushes in.

His touch is gentler than the others—light squeezes of your breasts, fingertips tracing shapes on your back as his hips move slowly.

He grips your ass, helping you move against Rafayel, telling you how perfect you are.

Xavier settles next to you, rubbing your clit to Rafayel’s pace, while Sylus sits close, a glass of wine in hand. “You’re excelling in your penance, kitten,” he praises teasingly.

“Gonna paint you white, now, cutie,” Raf mumbles, his thrusts getting sloppy before his essence fills you up.

Zayne takes his place instantly, spooning you as his cock borderline rips you open.

Sylus isn’t the only one who leveled up in this life.

He holds you close for a while, just resting against your head while lightly gripping your throat, thumb rubbing to a soothing rhythm.

“I’ve prayed so many times for the spell to break,” he admits, agony filling his voice. “I was beginning to lose hope, but—” his hips begin to pump, and every touch is an attempt to reassure him that you’re truly here.

You cum around him again and again, the couch getting filthy as he turns you into an overstimulated, whimpering mess.

Sylus teases your breasts while Rafayel and Xavier sit close.

Your poor pussy is ruined, and you’re barely conscious, dazed by the pleasure they’re giving you.

This doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon since Zayne murmurs, “Just one more time, my love.”

[nqueso-emergency]

I wrote this because I needed to get it off my chest. But then I didn't want to put it on my own blog because I didn't want to deal with the discourse. So, I decided to send it to you in the hope you'd put it up.

I've been in many different fandoms, and I think the only fandom where I ever very actively shipped a canon couple was Torchwood. (If there are people not shipping Jack and Ianto, please never tell me.) That means, of course, there were always other LI of my ships to deal with. And somehow, no matter the fandom (NICS, Hawaii 5-0, Sherlock (mostly), Stargate, etc pp) it's always the same: If the fic takes place at a point in canon where one or more people in the desired ship are currently in a relationship usually one of two things happens: 1. The canon LI just doesn't seem to exist in the fic. 2. There is somewhere one line about "Oh, what about Character A?" "Ah, we broke up. No big deal." (And writing this, I'm kinda laughing now about the Buck/Natalia break-up between seasons 6 and 7.)

So, it's very strange and confusing to watch this part of the Buddie fandom that's so enraged about Tommy and has made hating him their whole fandom personality, who instead of doing what's always been done with LIs that were in the way of a ship created this whole subgenre on 9-1-1 fics now whose whole focus is "How do we overcome the obstacle of the unwanted LI to get our ship". (As I write this, there are 800 fics on ao3 tagged with both ships!) Where did the mentality of "ignore the LI in the way of our ship" vanish to? It was there for other LIs of Buck and Eddie in the past, why isn't it there for Tommy? Why can't a multishipper go into the Buddie tag in peace without being slapped in the face with Tommy bashing everywhere? (And why do you have to bash Buck and Eddie, too, while doing so? I know you don't recognize it, but that's what you're doing with many of those takes about the cheating. That's what you are doing every time you make Eddie into a violent caricature just so you have someone who can beat Tommy up.)

The hate against Tommy has a very different quality and edge to it than the hate for other LIs in the past, and this new genre you all created is a huge part of that.

And before anyone starts, yes there are a lot of bashing fics about the other LI. I've read a lot of them. The vast majority of those are not about finding a way to get the LI out of the way for Buddie (especially not by glorifying Buddie cheating on their LIs) They are about exploring little things of the characters people find jarring or exaggerating those things to use as a plot or plot device. (e.g. Ana's ableist take after the whole skateboard incident. Or her unprofessional behavior of flirting with a parent during parent-teacher-conference.)

As for the very worn-out mantra/whine of "Why could I peacefully hate on the female LIs in the past but aren't allowed to do the same with Tommy?" No one would bother you if you stopped pushing your hate on everyone else.

But you're trying to infiltrate every single nook with your hatred because somehow you don't understand while you're entitled to your hate about Tommy, other people are just as equally entitled to their love and appreciation of the character and the representation he provides. It's not just the Buddie tag people are bombarded with your hate in. No matter what tag — Bathena, Henren, Madney, every single character tag — you'll stumble over Tommy hate pretty fast. Because you tag them all if they matter for your post or not. (I mean, you've done that with Buddie in general for years, which also was never okay!) Or find cheap excuses to include them in your post.

People would let you wallow in your hate peacefully if you wouldn't attack anyone who didn't agree with you. Especially those gay and bi men in this fandom who are full of gratefulness and praise for the representation of their lived experiences 9-1-1 has given them through Tommy and Bucktommy. Who've been calling you out for your hateful and phobic behavior because there is no avoiding being confronted with it.

No one would bother you if you wouldn't post public lists of people you plan to bully in the future!

I guess the point of this long-ass rant is: Get in your fucking lane and let everyone else enjoy the fandom, too. Keep your hate where others can avoid it. It's not that difficult. And believing everyone has to agree with you about your hate is a huge red flag.

Perfectly said, anon 👏

"You" = bestie boos btw

[dalishious]

Veilguard Companion First Impressions

So, I’ve finally recruited all the companions for the Veilguard! And as such, I thought I’d share my initial thoughts on them each.

Please keep in mind that as the title says, these are just my first impressions. I am nowhere near finishing the game yet. My thoughts very well may change after getting to know the characters more as the story progresses. Also, please do not take any opinions you do not share as a personal attack against you.

Bellara

Bellara might be my #1 favourite.

I’ve seen some people just say Bellara is “a Merrill rip-off” but I don’t think that’s fair at all. If all it took was a few similarities to say a character is a rip-off of another character, than I can think of so many boring white cishet male characters who would be guilty of that. But heaven forbid we get more than one elven woman who is passionate about her people’s culture and history!

Frankly, I think Bellara is a breath of fresh air in terms of Dalish characters specifically. Finally, a Dalish elf who isn’t punished for being proudly Dalish by the narrative.

I also really appreciate that so much of her can be easily understood by her backstory, too. Like, her feelings of never being good enough is reflective of the very realistic grief she is experiencing.

Lucanis

If Bellara isn’t my #1 favourite, then Lucanis is. They really both dominate that spot neck in neck. I can’t decide if I want to put him in a jar and shake it to see what happens, or wrap him up tight in a quilt and give him some good coffee.

I’m just a sucker for Lucanis’s character archetype, is the thing. I love taking him out simply because he’s so much fun to have around. And in terms of companion arcs, his is the one I am most intrigued to see where it goes.

Taash

(While I haven’t personally gotten to Taash’s non-binary plot yet, I am aware Taash switches to they/them pronouns, so that’s what I’ll be using.)

The moment I met Taash felt my heart skip a beat. The only thing hotter than their appearance is their voice. I know BioWare probably left Taash out of a lot of the advertising because they wanted to keep Taash’s gender stuff a surprise, but oh my god, because of this I was taken by quite the surprise. And so far Taash seems to be the type to keep a hard outer shell to protect a much softer side, and that is yet another character archetype I really love.

Davrin

My initial gripe about Davrin’s writing being so exclusively about Assan rather than Davrin himself is slowly peeling away, I hope. While I still think its bullshit that you can welcome Assan into the Veilgaurd but not Davrin, at least I’ve finally gotten a few bits of dialogue to get to know more about him finally. I just want to keep this momentum! Because Davrin as a concept has so much potential, in my opinion, and what little bits I have gotten from him have captivated me. But I can’t tell yet if it’s intentionally part of his character that maybe he’s just a closed off person who takes a while to trust others, (a little like Taash?) Or if the writer just cared more about griffons than the actual guy. I’m really, really holding out hope for the former.

Emmrich

Emmrich is so much more charming than I expected, and I found him instantly endearing the moment we met him. I also really like that we’re finally hearing some different stances and insight on death and necromancy than we ever had before from a companion! It makes him feel so fresh and completely new!

Harding

I’ll be real with you: I was not anticipating caring about Harding so much. She was who I was originally least interested in, when the companion line-up was announced. But the direction they’re taking her in has me questioning so much about bigger lore questions.

Unfortunately, I still don’t see much in her except being a vessel for those bigger lore questions, though. Like, Harding as a person has me mildly curious at best.

Neve

I’m really sorry Neve fans, but I just find her really boring so far, in comparison to everyone else. She doesn’t have a lot going on, and what she does have going on, doesn’t really captivate me much. Maybe I was just hoping she’d have stronger stances on things than she does? I don’t know.

It could be that I just really fucked up with Neve, and it won’t be until another playthrough that I’ll get to experience more that will change my mind. Because I will admit I am very good at picking choices she disapproves of, with my first Rook.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Paris, 1890

steddie, omegaverse, artist and muse, mpreg

After five years of struggling and starving, scrimping and saving, choosing to buy paints instead of food, Édouard Munson has become an overnight success. All the wealthy families of Paris want one of his paintings, enchanted by the way he has captured the beauty of his new favored model.

The first to gain notice, “Eos,” features Stéfan from behind, asleep in their shared bed, the rosy light of dawn illuminating his skin, making his hair glow bronze-gold. He covered to the waist with a thin sheet, but he is not cold—unseen to the viewer, the room is well-heated by the stove. Behind him, the indent left by his lover promises he will not be lonely long.As do the tiny indents at his neck.

“Eos” sold the day it was first exhibited.

Next comes “Dionysos,” an outdoor scene, lush with flowers, the young man crowned with laurels and draped with rich, purple silks. He holds a goblet to his lips, eyes closed in gentle ecstasy. Nymphs and satyrs dance in the background, and a rivulet of wine runs down his chin.

The gallery had a buyer lined up before “Dionysus” was put on exhibit.

After came “Apollo,” “Eros,” “Hedone,” and “Helios,” each of them selling for enough that Eddie could easily keep himself and Stéfan comfortable for a few years without selling another. But his heart still cries out to create, so Eddie keeps painting.

“Aphrodite” features a naked Stéfan in the bath, standing, facing away, his plush bottom on display and glistening with water as he reaches for a towel. The gallery owner buys it for himself.

Then, Eddie takes greater risks with his art style, painting Stéfan in rich, dark blues, his body becoming the night sky in “Selene,” each of his beauty marks a golden star, his navel now the moon, his small belly cradled with his hands. He is the whole of the cosmos, caring and sensual.

A collector snaps it up as quickly as possible, proclaiming, “Now he is finding his vision!”

“The Marriage of Hymen” is a further departure, showing a small garden plot. A circle of seeds indent the dirt, next to a flower, its petals pink and red, wet with morning dew. It earns Eddie questions, and Stef blushes at his side. Even so different, it finds a buyer.

He returns to a more realistic style with “Pan.” It features two right hands, fingers slotted together, caressing a small breast. A rosy nipple peaks through a gap in the fingers. The tips of the fingers curl into a thatch of hair at the chest. It goes to the alpha who owns “Eos.”

That is followed by “Psyche,” a closeup of Stéfan in profile, lips parted, the fluttering of his eyelids created by the energetic strokes of Eddie’s paintbrush, the lashes dark with tears. He exhibits it, but refuses to sell, explaining that it was a gift for his omega.

Stef is on his arm and at his side at the gallery then, smiling when the prospective buyers turn to him, begging him to consider their offers. “I am sorry, monsieur, it is too precious a gift. I have been working on my own masterpiece for my husband, and I think this gift almost makes up for it.” His hand rests on his rounded stomach, and he rubs against the kicking of their pup as he gives a teasing wink.

That night, lying together in bed, Eddie holds Stef and kisses his neck. “Sometimes,” he whispers, “It is hard to believe that I have found you. Then I feel your heart beating next to mine and it seems inevitable. My soul knows your soul.” His hand joins Stef’s over their pup in his belly. “I think it always has.”

“It has. That’s why you see me the way you paint me. You see all of me, even the hidden parts—the parts that are only beautiful to you.”

“All of your parts are beautiful,” Eddie insists with a pout.

“Everyone has rough edges, my love, even me.”

“And they are beautiful in their roughness.”

“Eddie…”Stef turns to kiss the pout off his alpha’s lips, struggling because of his pregnant belly, grinning as Eddie rushes to help him. “All I care is that you love me. That you love us.”

Eddie kisses him back, soft and slow and sweet. “I always, always will.”

[crooked-wasteland]

I think what annoys me so much about the way the show blasts Blitzo for being a cold and unromantic partner is that it’s a perfect example of ignoring worldbuilding to make a character look worse.

By human standards, Blitzo abandoning someone when they tell them that they love him is pretty cowardly and understandably upsetting. But in Hell standards? Verosika should’ve fucking known he’d run away because Hell seems to look down heavily at the concept of love. This is like knowing that it’s taboo to kiss and then getting mad at a character for not kissing you. You can’t blame someone for being adjusted to what society expects of you. Verosika can still be hurt but it’s genuinely insane how much she clings on to this hate like he did a crime.

And the fact that we just skip over seeing their relationship is also infuriating because I get the feeling that Viv was both not interested in actually showing us what Verosika was like and also afraid to make her do anything that feels more in line with her character which is act angsty and spiteful

I've had a thought about Verosika. From the we've seen this season, the writers have actually listened to and addressed criticism for the show. The Ghostfuckers leaks show an overhaul of the original story, the fact that episodes got shifted around at the start of the series, the blatant un-writing of the assassination plot, and the fact that Unhappy Campers was the only pre-special episode to not be in the season 2 trailer (most likely because it was still in the early stages of animation due to massive rewrites to incorporate more Millie) are all evidence to this. It's obvious the crew is not happy about it, but they are listening.

With that in mind, the show has repeatedly been accused of extremely sexist writing in favor of the male cast. As such, it's not surprising to see the pivot more towards "humanizing" the female characters in specific. I remember seeing a lot of comments about how they wouldn't forgive the show if they made another female character irredeemably cruel and brainless following The Circus, and even louder after Western Energy.

What fans had wanted was a complicated or even toxic dynamic where both characters weren't perfect, but still held Blitz accountable for his actions, fairly. What they got was the cheapest, laziest writing I've ever seen. Not only does it not make sense in regards to the established world building of Hell's attitude towards love, it still makes no sense for Blitz to run away just because Verosika said she loved him, only to then adopt a child. He explicitly goes to the pound looking for a pup, pivoting to taking in Loona out of pity. It's like saying marriage is too much of a commitment, but still having kids.

Instead, Medrano overcorrected to pander to critics the same way she panders to her fans. Verosika is not an irredeemably cruel and stupid, spiteful woman. She's a perfect victim actually. Not only is her only crime falling in love, but the relationship ended so fast and sudden that she didn't have any time to do anything.

All these choices feel not only deliberate, but resentful in how little care went into the writing. The most drastic overhaul being to Ghostfuckers where the entire narrative trimmed down and immensely reworked already existing elements into the script. It goes to show the level of improvement possible to an idea when given better direction, but it also shows the limitations of not having actual writers on the team.

Ghostfuckers does an amateur's best and comes out generally okay, but still suffers from over reliance on tropes without narrative substance. It's the genuine best that can be done with this team. And unfortunately that's still not good enough.

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Baecation ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) heads to Hawaii with her best friend for a celebratory girls trip, completely unaware that she’d meet the man of her dreams.

Warning: Hefty flirting & mature language!

"May I have a piña colada please?" I ask the bartender, leaning against the tiki bar counter.

This man is drop dead gorgeous.

I'm talking thick curls, a gorgeous body with a v-line that's barely covered by his cargo shorts, and tattooed skin that's the perfect shade of caramel.

"Of course beautiful," he replies, and automatically gets to work on my drink.

I smile sweetly and turn to my best friend Trinity, that's stood next to me with my jaw dropped.

She playfully whacks my arm and covers her mouth to hide her giggles.

"There you are love," the man replies, sliding over my drink.

"Thank you so much," I reply smiling again, and slip him a $5 bill.

He takes my hand and stops it from sliding the rest of the way towards him.

"You're all taken care of," he exclaims. "A lady as beautiful as you should never pay the bill."

My cheeks immediately turn hot and I just know I look identical to a tomato. "I-Are you sure? Thank you so much!"

He gives me a warm smile, before bringing my hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. "Anytime, beautiful. Now go enjoy your day."

I smile and thank him yet again, before walking off with Trin by my side.

On our walk back to the beach house, I take a sip of my drink.

"Ooo girl I think he put extra rum in this," I coo, doing a little dance. "I might have to let him put a ring on it."

Trin nearly chokes on her drink, bursting into laughter. "Girl that man was whipped for you! And who wouldn't be?!"

I dramatically pout my lips and pull her into a hug.

For a little context, Trin and I are both professional wrestlers.

A tag team to be exact.

The other night, we won our championships back from Alba Fyre and Ilsa Dawn.

And to celebrate, we booked a three day trip in Hawaii.

"What time does the ship arrive?" I ask, taking a seat on a lounge chair next to her.

"Around 4:15," she replies, picking up her phone and tapping on the lock screen to reveal the time. "So we have a good hour to kill."

I nod, taking another sip from my drink.

We decide to spend the first half our just relaxing and chatting, and the other heading back into the house and get ready for the day.

I end up picking a cute pastel green knit bikini, a matching hat, and my Burberry slides.

"BODYYYYY!" Trin squeals and claps her hands, hyping me up when I walk out of the bathroom.

I giggle, twirling and posing for her.

"Thank you boo!" I reply, giving her a warm hug.

She hugs back and kisses my cheek as we pull away.

—————————————————————————————————

We’ve been on the ship for almost 2 hours - exploring the island from afar, taking cute pictures, trying incredible Hawaiian food, swimming, and jamming out to island music.

It's such a fun and quality-filled time with my best friend. <3

"I'm gonna go grab a drink," I say, as I get up from one of the deck lounge chairs. "Do you want anything?"

"I'll take whatever you're having," Trin replies, poking my side.

I giggle and nod. "Alrighty I'll be back in a sec."

I head downstairs to the bar area and my eyes widen at the sight I'm brought with.

The same gorgeous bartender from earlier looks up and immediately smiles once he sees me. "Hi again, gorgeous."

I smile back and sit down. "Hi. Are you following me or something?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "As much as it seems that way, nah. My cousin actually owns the ship, so I volunteered to bartend just for today."

I nod, and cross my arms over the counter. "How strange that we ran into each other twice the one day you're working here."

He shrugs. "It's a small world, babygirl. Anyway, what can I get you?"

I smile at the pet name. "Two dirty shirleys please. Preferably as strong as you made my piña this afternoon."

He smirks and winks at me before going to work on our drinks, and once finished, slides them both over to me.

I reach into my purse, before he stops me again. "Don't even think about it."

I playfully roll my eyes, smiling, while taking a sip of my drink.

"Thank you again," I reply, getting up.

"You're very welcome beautiful," he coos. "You know what I just realized? I never got your name."

I smile and hold out my hand. "I'm Gianna."

"Gianna," he repeats, taking and shaking it. "That's a gorgeous name. Fitting for a gorgeous lady."

I blush, smiling. "Thank you. And you are?"

"Oh my bad," he replies, chuckling. "I'm Joshua. You can call me Josh. Or Jey. Or really anything."

I giggle quietly. "Josh sounds perfect."

He smiles and strokes my hand with his thumb. "Listen, I don't mean to be too up front or a bother, but would you like to go out tonight? I know a couple awesome restaurants around here."

I smile, tilting my head. "Sure. And you're no bother, I promise."

He gives me a warm smile. "Perfect. I'll meet you on the beach at around 8?"

I nod, taking another sip of my drink, before entering my number into his phone. "That sounds perfect. I'll see you then."

He nods, kisses my hand, we say our goodbyes, and I walk off.

"Girl," I say, hurrying over to Trin. "You're gonna die."

"I know," she teases. "It's as hot as the pits of hell out here and I still don't have a drink in my hand."

"Oh shit," I reply, handing her the other glass. "Sorry."

She giggles and shakes her head. "I'm just teasing, sis. Now spill."

I sit down on the chair next to her and set my glass down. "Remember the bartender from earlier?"

"The one that had the hots for you?" she teases, wiggling her eyebrows.

I playfully shove her shoulder and she laughs. "He's working downstairs and...let's just say I have a date tonight."

Her eyes go wide before she squeals and pulls me into a hug. "Gi that's amazing! I told you!"

I giggle, hugging back. "I know! I'm so excited!"

"You really do deserve this sweetheart," she says, before taking a sip from her glass once we pull away. "It's been so long. I'm so happy for you."

I stick out my bottom lip and smile sweetly.

A couple years of ago, I was in a super toxic and abusive relationship with a former colleague named Carmelo Hayes.

To make a long story short, he was super egotistical, made me feel like shit almost every day of our relationship, and even put his hands on me once in a while when he didn't get what he wanted.

It was a super scary time, but Trin was by my side throughout and helped me build the confidence to end things with him.

My soulmate in best friend form. <3

"It really has," I reply. "But Josh is super respectful. He's already ten times the man that Carmelo ever was."

She smiles, taking another sip of her drink. "It really does look like he adores you already. These island men are something dangerous."

We share a laugh and enjoy the rest of our time on the ship together.

—————————————————————————————————

It's now about three hours later - around 7:05 to be exact - and Trin is helping me get ready for my date.

"I'm thinking we curl your hair," she says, playing with my hair in the mirror. "And then tuck in these two front pieces."

I hold up my hands. "You're the master. Work your magic queen!"

She flicks her hair off her shoulder and we share a laugh before she gets to work.

"I love it," I squeal, once she finishes. "Thank you Trinny!"

Trin sets down her curling iron and gives me a quick hug from the back before heading out of the bathroom. "Anytime babes. Now get changed so I can see the full effect."

I give her a warm smile and nod before taking my dress off of its hanger.

We picked out a pretty baby blue mini dress that compliments my skin perfectly.

Once I'm done getting dressed, I step out of the bathroom and pose. "Ta-da!"

Trin looks up from her phone and automatically squeals, throwing it aside. "Oh. My. God. Sis you look GORGEOUS!"

I scream and giggle as she pulls me into the tightest hug. "Thank you bestie! I couldn't have done this without you!"

We rock back and forth for a bit before she plays with my hair and makes sure my dress looks perfect in the mirror.

"Alright girly you're all ready! Have the best time and call me if you need me!" she coos, hugging me.

I smile and hug back. "I will Trin. Thank you for everything."

We say our goodbyes and I'm off to the beach to meet the dreamiest man in the world.

—————————————————————————————————

After a few minutes of walking on the beach, I see a figure standing against the bar counter.

As I get closer, I see that it’s Josh - dressed in a white loose polo shirt with the first 2 buttons opened and jeans.

"Hi gorgeous," he coos, reaching out his arm for a hug. "You look incredible."

I smile and gladly accept the hug, resting my chin on his shoulder. "Thank you, love. You do too.”

His hand rests on my back just above my ass.

"You ready to go?" he asks, pulling away and holding my hand. Our reservation is in a couple minutes."

I nod, smiling. "I'm super excited. All the Hawaiian food I've tried so far here has been incredible."

He gives me a warm smile and we head to the restaurant, making some more small talk on the way.

The date itself is amazing.

I ordered the most delicious loco moco - a rice and meat dish with gravy and egg, and Josh and I shared pretty much our life stories.

I could tell he was listening to my every word - which is something I'm not exactly used to, but I love about him.

Now, we've decided to take a walk on the shoreline.

"How'd you like the food?" he asks, looking down at me.

"Incredible as expected," I reply looking back at him, smiling. "But it gave me one hell of a food coma."

I rub my stomach with my free hand as he chuckles. "Yeah Hawaiian food is pretty filling. But I'm glad you enjoyed it."

I smile sweetly, until he stops walking and turns to me.

We kinda just stare into each other's eyes for a bit, and of course, I'm blushing the entire time.

"You really are the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen," he coos, taking a strand of hair away from my face and adjusting the flower by my ear, which he gave me earlier at dinner.

I blush, looking down smiling. "Thank you, Josh."

He gently lifts my chin and I'm met with his gorgeous face once again. "Don't be shy, love. Unlike that douche that you were telling me about at dinner, I'll take care of you. I promise."

I blush even harder, still smiling like an idiot.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, cupping my face and stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"That depends," I reply. "Do you care if I kiss back?"

He chuckles and leans in, cupping my face and pressing our lips together.

I automatically kiss back, wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with his curls.

His hands travel to my waist, pulling me in closer, and deepening the kiss.

With every stroke, I feel more and more ascended to heaven.

This man is perfect.

The perfect kisser anyway.

We slowly pull away and gently touch foreheads.

"You're incredible babygirl," he coos, taking both of my hands before kissing my left one.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reply, teasing him and smiling.

We share a laugh and our lips meet again - only for a peck this time - before we continue our walk, hand in hand.

Eventually, it gets pretty dark and he walks me home.

"I had the best time with you tonight," he says, turning to me once we get to the beach house.

I smile and reach up to run my fingers through his hair. "Me too Josh. Thank you for everything."

He smiles back and leans down, allowing our lips to connect once more.

After a couple strokes, he pulls away and kisses my cheek. "Have a good night."

"You too," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

I watch him walk off before heading inside to reunite with Trin, who's sitting cross-legged on the bed, her lip dramatically stuck out, signaling that she heard everything.

The second I see her, I start laughing. “Trin, you’re like a raccoon.”

"You two are fucking ADORABLEEEE!" she squeals, running over to me and wrapping me in a hug.

I giggle and hug her back. "Thank you girl. He's truly amazing."

"You have to tell me everything!" she demands, taking my hand and pulling me onto the bed.

"Okay so first..." I reply, and go on to tell her every little detail.

Liked by trinity_fatu, jonathanfatu, uceyjucey, jadecargill, and 2.2M others

giannamacri successful girls trip 🌴💚

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trinity_fatu Love you boo 😘

uceyjucey Miss you already ❤️

jadecargill Gorgeous gorgeous girls! 💚

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trinity_fatu these tag team champs never looked so good 🙂‍↕️🩷

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[katerinaaqu]

It is! Oftentimes.

-Yeah... Perhps that is true but I am not sur eanymore. I know he deleated the songs on Ismarus slaughter but yeah

-Yes perhaps it is unfair of me to take it out on you. It is just that I have answered this question more times than what I can count. I take that back. I am annoyed in general by this but yes it is unfair to take that out on you. Hahahaha fair enough true true. Like I said I take that back.

-To be fair I understand why and the example is quite blunt I understand but this is literally the level of Iconic scenes like Sirens or Circe are. Remove the sirens experience and you have a story where the shoe of Cinderella is no longer a thing and Cinderellla is recognized by something else instead.

-Clearly, I suppose. To me "retelling" is exactly what the word says "re tell a story". The story is there. The adittions to the story would be either fill in the gaps or add some piece of information that is part of the research. At least this is how I usually work on my retellings as well. I actually posted a small analysis as an example on how I usually do the stories

I am not saying if my work is a bad or good retelling (that is in the eye of the beholder). I am just saying that in my mind a retelling is not something that aims to change everything; is something that retells the story in the present potentially making some changes to make it easier to the target audience but all in all the basic plot is respected and followed, otherwise like I said is not retelling to me, just a "loosely based on" idea. I definitely agree to that I am not sure either what better word one can use at that case! Hahaha

-I did hear that from fans as well. Like I said there is nothing wrong with liking it especially since you are clearly also aware of the differences. It just doesn't vibe with me

-I agree to the first one. Yes if a story is said to be a retelling or an adaptation I myself expect it to be accurate. But at the same time I also get annoyed becase these stories had more than enough of unfaithful adaptations as well which again makes me a bit sad as well Generally I dslike this "fanom logic". On one hand it is great that people get dedicated and like something, on the other it becomes so hard to control these things and find truth from lie and imagination from fact sometimes. Indeed they are. I found most of them very nice. One or two again didn't vibe with me like "Suffering" but they were personal preferences (plus again linked to that iconic moment that got twisted hahaha)

-Oh yes I do find very good converstions on the matter for sure. Well call me crazy but again I think the OG Odyssey has as much video game logic as it can't be more. Like Odysseus slaughters Ismarus but saves Maron, Maron gives him the godly wine, Odysseus uses that godly wine to get Polyphemus drunk. The bag of winds needs not to be opened it is opened so the people move from one place to another. To defeat the witch you have to pay the price and sell yourself to her. You go to the underworld with stuff that she gives you and slay a sheep and not let others go to drink till Tiresias arrives. Tiresias gives a prophecy. To go through Skylla you try to fight but ultimatey you pay the price. To save yourself from Charybdis you need to grab on the tree the witch told you about etc. Not all video games have boss fights every five meters and I could absolutely see Odyssey as an open world video game already from the OG material. But maybe that is just me.

-Absolutely that is a positive outcome from it if more people get to read the original.

New Epic saga and it's horrible... to give you an idea, Odysseus fought Poseidon, stole his trident and made him beg for mercy

hmmm a god begging a mortal for mercy is not exactly on par with Greek religion and stories. How did that scene made it into the final version?

[zhuoyichenpretty]

aww yeah ep 20 GOOD

I guess I do (very casual, broadstroke) episode commentaries now, halfway through the show lmao. Spoilers below!!

Bai Jiu BETRAYAL?

Wen Xiao WANTED?

Zhuo Yichen DETECTIVE-ING?

Ying Lei BACK?

*crowd cheers*

The dots are connecting like crazy with the big bad's whole inner core crusade and also with the simultaneous demon case like I did not recognize Ao Yin as the demon Li Lun first released eight years ago but oooh do I enjoy that minor payoff.

Love the repeated use of the demonic-spell-restraining sigils now that we've been introduced to them, though I wonder why the Bureau doesn't ever seem to make use of them. Maybe they don't deal with enough powerful demons to need to paint those in their own (very empty) dungeon? Or perhaps just plot convenience.

Anyway I kind of wish in the Chongwu Camp dungeon PSJ fought a little bc she's so cool in action and their bailing was a little abrupt, but it makes sense that they'd have an immediate getaway plan. Also this is an ep 19 comment but that line Mr. 3-Face Mask delivered about PSJ being fated to always be betrayed by her little brother(s) HURT. So good.

Back to the Bureau, I do love me a good framing, and I'm also happy to get a tiny bit of the episodic demon-murder-case style back. WX was v clever to hide out in Situ Mansion, and (small detail but) I appreciate that the others catch her up on the Bai Jiu thing onscreen. As an aside, I also like that the actress for WX got to be double-casted even just briefly. Seeing some of the actors get to play around with portraying various extremes in characterization and costuming is a ton of fun.

And then yay Bai Jiu backstory at last~! It's crazy how much that blood moon fucked up everyone's lives eight years ago huh.

Everything ZYC says to him is on point (and honestly, ZYC is really quite adept at comforting others, he just sucks utter ass at it when it's his fault and he has to apologize lmaooo) but of course my favorite scene in the whole episode is as follows:

The very slight shine in the waterline, the bittersweet smile/grimace as, deliberately or not, ZYC's words indirectly echo everything about the circumstances between the two of them right now??? Whew. They did that for me specifically.

Anyway, this was a good one to chew on for me, packed with plot movement enough that I didn't feel unsatisfied with just one episode. I'm glad that so far it seems like the release schedule bears in mind what episodes should be watched in pairs for maximum effect (eps 16/17, 18/19 specifically) and which ones are okay to stand alone for the day, but I also don't want to speak too soon haha. We'll see how ep 21 fares.

Also since this is a ZYC stan account (lmao) I have some obligatory ZYC thoughts that I haven't managed to fit anywhere else. I've been meaning to comment on this for a while now and was reminded by this episode: I love the fact that ZYC actually smiles quite often. I think it's a bit surprising every time he does because he so easily fits the archetype of stoic broody action hero, but it really is just an archetype he's fit himself into, and it's never clearer than when they flash back to smiley baby!ZYC (how freely and purely he used to give those smiles away...).

On the other side of this is also how caustic and biting he can be with his words, whether sarcastically or otherwise, and how clearly his face telegraphs his emotions in general. I love that he actually emotes quite a lot and isn't cold and unaffected in the least, just pouty frowny and awkward.

The last piece to this for me is probably his age (which I very much appreciated being established super early on) and how convincingly TJR portrays him as young and inexperienced and extremely earnest. He's so sincere in everything he does that it really doesn't take much to move him, which also (imo) makes his arc less overdone.

We all know from the start what direction his development will likely go, how he'll learn he's mistaken about ZYZ and how he'll grow to have a more nuanced view of the world as he creates more bonds with others. But he's so emotional and emotionally aware that it doesn't really take much push and pull to get him there. And actually, it's not untread ground to him—he is moreso thawing, in part returning to the open-hearted nature that he had to very abruptly shutter away rather than fundamentally changing as a person. I think to me, that makes his character more compelling to watch because his cynicism about the world is perhaps the least sincere thing about him. It's entirely learned, and not by choice. Relatable.