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pankowcrumbs · 19 hours ago

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You wanna kiss me X Eddie Munson

MasterList

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

If there was a record for the worst day to come home early, I’d just shattered it.

I’d planned to curl up with my book and a bag of crisps, maybe watch a bit of Doctor Who while the house was empty. But the universe clearly had other plans.

As soon as I pushed open the front door of the Harrington household, I was greeted by noise. Loud, obnoxious, cackling laughter that echoed down the hall like a thunderclap. I followed the sound, already regretting my decision to come home.

Sure enough, there they were. The Motley Crew. Robin sprawled out on the floor with a bowl of popcorn on her chest like some sort of offering to the gods. Nancy perched primly on the arm of the sofa, giggling into her hand. And my lovely twin brother, Steve, looking far too pleased with himself, clearly enjoying the chaos.

And then, in the middle of it all, feet up on our coffee table, rings glinting in the dim light, sat Eddie bloody Munson.

Ugh.

He caught sight of me first, tossing his head dramatically like I’d just walked in and ruined his one-man show. “Ohhh look who it is,” he announced, voice dripping with mockery. “The Lady of the Manor returns!”

“Oh, brilliant,” I muttered, brushing past him toward the kitchen. “Didn’t realise we were hosting the village idiot today.”

Robin snorted from the floor. Steve just sighed.

“Oi, play nice,” Steve warned, but I could already hear the grin in his voice. He lived for this. Loved watching me and Eddie wind each other up like kids in the playground. I’d never understand it.

“Just saying,” Eddie called after me, “you should be thanking me. I bring vibes to this house. Energy. Spice.”

“You bring a migraine,” I shot back, yanking open the fridge. Nothing exciting. Milk, a half-eaten yoghurt, and something that might’ve once been lasagne. Great.

“Do I live rent-free in your head, sweetheart?” he called, still far too smug for someone wearing a Hellfire tee with a suspicious-looking mustard stain on the hem.

I poked my head round the corner. “You wish. I don’t make time in my day for trolls.”

He gasped, hand over his heart like I’d personally wounded him. “A troll? This face? Rude. Uncalled for. Deeply offensive.”

“You are offensive,” I said, walking back in with a can of Coke, trying not to notice the way he watched me with that annoyingly amused look in his eyes. Like he’d already decided how this conversation would go, and it would end with me wanting to scream.

Steve groaned. “Can you two not start, please? Just sit down, shut up, and be nice humans.”

“That’s a big ask,” Robin mumbled from the floor.

“Oh, c’mon Stevie,” Eddie said, tossing a piece of popcorn at his head. “You can’t tell me this isn’t the highlight of your day. Watching little miss sunshine try not to fall madly in love with me.”

I nearly choked on my drink. “What?”

“Sorry,” Nancy said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “But that was kind of hilarious.”

Eddie looked far too pleased with himself, the absolute menace. “You should see the way she looks at me when she thinks no one’s watching.”

“I look at you like I’m trying to set you on fire with my eyes,” I snapped.

“Exactly.” He winked. WINKED. “Hot.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You are obsessed with me.”

“Alright, that’s it” I lunged for him, fully prepared to yank the smugness right off his face, but he leapt off the couch and danced out of my reach, laughing like a maniac.

“What is your damage, Munson?”

“Oh, I dunno,” he said, hands up in surrender, but that bloody smirk never left his face. “Maybe I just love winding you up. You’re like a little wind-up toy. So easy to push. So cute when you're angry.”

I nearly screamed. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re going to kiss me.”

And that was the moment everything froze.

The room went quiet. Even Steve stopped mid-sip of his drink. Robin blinked slowly like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

I stared at Eddie, cheeks suddenly burning. “What did you just say?”

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator who knew the exact effect he had. My brain screamed at me to move, say something clever, anything. But all I could do was stand there as he got closer.

And closer.

Until we were barely inches apart. I could feel the heat of him, the smell of leather and smoke and something warm and oddly comforting.

His voice dropped, low and taunting. “Ohhh… you wanna kiss me so bad, don’t you?”

My mouth opened and nothing came out.

He grinned wider, clearly revelling in the chaos he’d just unleashed. My face felt like it was on fire, and the worst part? I had no retort. No comeback. Just my rapidly melting dignity and the sound of Robin’s very audible gasp behind me.

“Speechless?” Eddie teased. “That’s a first.”

I opened my mouth again, determined to salvage my pride, but all that came out was a sound that could only be described as a squeak.

And that bastard he stepped back.

Like he’d just won the world’s most annoying game.

“Caught red-handed,” he said smugly, turning away like this was just another day at the office.

Robin clapped once. “Okay, that was… iconic. I’m sorry, Y/N, but it was.”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie, mate, you’re gonna end up with a black eye.”

“Worth it,” he said, plopping back onto the sofa and stretching like a cat in a sunbeam. “So worth it.”

Nancy leaned in close to me, whispering, “You alright?”

“No,” I hissed. “I’m humiliated.”

“Ah,” she said, trying not to laugh. “But you’re also a little bit into it, aren’t you?”

I scowled at her. But my silence betrayed me.

Because, deep down, I couldn’t deny it. The rush, the heat, the way he’d looked at me like he knew. Like he’d been waiting for that moment for weeks. Maybe he had.

Maybe I had, too.

“God help me,” I muttered.

Across the room, Eddie met my eyes. Raised his brows. And winked.

I spent the next ten minutes pretending I hadn’t just been verbally undressed by Eddie Munson in front of all my closest mates. Which, in case you’re wondering, is not easy to do when your face is still bright red and said verbal undresser is lounging about with a stupid little smirk on his stupid beautiful face.

I stood by the bookshelf, flipping through a random novel I’d already read twice, trying to look casual and unaffected, which was impossible because Robin kept snickering every time she looked at me.

“You good?” Steve whispered as he walked past with a fresh drink.

“Peachy,” I muttered.

He tilted his head. “You look like you’re about to combust.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can we not?”

But, of course, Steve could. And would. Because he was my twin and delighted in my suffering. “You do know he only winds you up because you’re the only one who bites back, right?”

“I don’t bite back, I...” I caught Eddie watching me from the sofa, his arm thrown across the backrest like he owned the place. When our eyes met, he raised one brow, lips twitching. Again.

“I loathe him,” I finished lamely.

“Uh huh,” Steve said, and walked away like that settled the matter.

Eventually, Nancy and Robin started talking about some book they were both reading something tragic and romantic and Steve got up to answer the phone when it rang in the kitchen, leaving me and Eddie more or less alone in the living room. Well, as alone as you can be with other people in the next room, distracted and not paying attention.

I debated leaving the room, but that would’ve meant admitting defeat, and I’d rather walk barefoot through Mordor.

So I sat on the arm of the sofa opposite him, arms crossed, eyes pointedly on the fireplace.

“You’re awful quiet,” Eddie said after a beat.

“Enjoying the silence.”

He grinned, shifting to face me more directly. “You sure? Thought you’d still be coming up with a witty comeback or something. You were always quick on the draw.”

“I was caught off guard,” I snapped, glaring at him.

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “You liked it.”

“I didn’t!”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You blushed, sweetheart. You don’t blush. I’ve never seen you speechless before. It was adorable.”

I turned away, biting my lip so hard it almost hurt. My skin still tingled from how close he’d gotten earlier. The heat of it lingered like a fingerprint on glass.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said, and this time his voice was quieter. Less smug.

I looked at him then. He wasn’t grinning now. Just watching me, brows slightly drawn, fingers fiddling with a ring on his thumb.

“It’s just… you’re fun to rile up,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to actually upset you.”

I blinked. “Is that… sincerity I hear?”

He gave a sheepish little laugh. “Don’t tell anyone. Ruin my rep.”

I couldn’t help it I smiled. Just a little.

“I’m not really mad,” I said eventually. “You’re just… the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

He beamed. “That’s high praise.”

“And you’re cocky.”

“Charming,” he corrected.

“Smug.”

“Confident.”

I rolled my eyes, but it was lighter now. The tension had shifted. Less volatile, more… playful. Like we were on the edge of something neither of us wanted to admit.

I looked at him properly for the first time all evening. His hair was a little wild, as usual, one curl falling into his eyes. There was a tiny scar on his chin I’d never noticed before. And his eyes brown, warm, so very alive they weren’t mocking now. Just… soft.

“Why do you even bother?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Why go out of your way to tease me?”

He hesitated. Then shrugged, glancing down at his hands. “Because you see through my bullshit. Most people let me perform. You don’t. It’s… annoying,” he said with a grin, “but kind of refreshing.”

That shut me up.

“I like getting a rise out of you,” he added. “Not because I want to make you feel small or anything. Just… because when you look at me like you want to strangle me, it’s better than when you ignore me.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was actually saying what I thought he was saying.

“I don’t ignore you.”

“You try to.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. He wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t mean to,” I admitted. “It’s just… you’re a bit much sometimes.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

There was a silence between us, not uncomfortable, but thick with unspoken things.

Then he said, quieter now, “You really don’t hate me, do you?”

I looked at him. Really looked at him. His knees bounced nervously, one ringed finger tapping against the side of his thigh. He wasn’t cocky now. He was uncertain. Vulnerable, in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“No,” I said softly. “I don’t.”

And I didn’t. Maybe I never had.

Eddie smiled small this time, real and nodded once, as if that meant more to him than he wanted to admit.

Robin called from the kitchen about something to do with ice cream, and the spell broke.

But for a moment, just a moment, we sat in the quiet. No insults. No witty comebacks. Just me and Eddie Munson, and the unspoken thing hanging between us like smoke in the air.

And I swear just before he got up to help them in the kitchen he looked at me like he knew.

Like we both did.

Later that evening the bowling alley smelled faintly of stale popcorn and that strange waxy scent of rental shoes. It was loud neon lights flickering above us, classic rock blaring through crackling speakers but honestly, it wasn’t the worst way to spend a Friday night.

Robin had roped us all into it. Said we needed a proper night out before “the inevitable soul-crushing weight of adulthood” came crashing down on us. Classic Robin.

Nancy and Steve were already competing like it was a televised championship, Robin was dancing to the music more than she was bowling, and Eddie well.

Eddie had spent the past twenty minutes doing increasingly ridiculous trick shots, including one where he spun around dramatically before launching the ball straight into the gutter.

“You’re hopeless,” I said, sipping my drink from a plastic cup and watching him theatrically mourn the death of his bowling career.

He collapsed onto the seat beside me. “Admit it you’d miss me if I weren’t here to make this night less tragically normal.”

I gave him a long, unimpressed look. “I think I’d survive.”

He gasped. “Cruel.”

We grinned at each other, and the moment hung again like it had in the living room, but lighter this time. Easier.

“You’re up,” I told him, nodding at the scoreboard. “Let’s see if you can break double digits.”

“Oh, now that sounds like a challenge.” He stood, cracking his knuckles like he was about to enter a wrestling ring. “Prepare to witness history.”

“You said that last round,” I called after him. “And the ball nearly hit the snack bar.”

He glanced back, winked, and lined up his shot.

To be fair, he didn’t completely whiff it this time. He knocked down four pins, which was practically a miracle for him. He turned back with arms raised like he’d just won the lottery.

I gave him a mocking round of applause.

“Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got, princess,” he said, handing me the ball.

“Oh, you don’t want to challenge me,” I said, standing and stretching my arms in the most obnoxious show-off-y way possible. “I’ve got hidden talents.”

“I’m quaking,” he deadpanned.

I stepped up to the lane, took a breath, and with a smooth, calculated throw knocked down every single pin.

The strike echoed loud, a satisfying crack followed by a chorus of groans from the others.

Eddie’s jaw actually dropped.

I turned back slowly, eyebrows raised. “What’s the matter, Munson? Cat got your tongue?”

He stared at me, momentarily speechless.

I savored it.

“Oh no,” Robin called from the seating area. “He’s malfunctioning. Someone reboot him!”

I leaned in slightly, smiling sweetly. “You alright there, Eddie?”

He blinked, visibly trying to recover. “That was… lucky.”

“Three times in a row?” I held up the scoreboard as proof. “Face it. I’m better than you.”

“You’re evil,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked so thrown off, I almost felt bad.

Almost.

“Now you know how it feels,” I said, smirking. “Tables have turned, haven’t they?”

He pointed at me, like he was trying to form a comeback and couldn’t find the words.

“Speechless?” I teased. “At this rate, I might start to think you actually like me.”

His mouth opened. Then closed.

Then he blushed.

Not much just a faint pink along his cheekbones but I saw it. And I won.

I turned, smug as hell, and flounced back to my seat like a victorious queen. Robin held her hand up for a high-five. “Absolute annihilation.”

Eddie sat beside me again, still trying to gather his pride. He was quiet for a full thirty seconds. Then, in a completely casual voice, he said:

“So, uh. Hypothetically speaking. If someone wanted to, like, maybe… go somewhere with you. That wasn’t here. And maybe there was food. And possibly feelings involved”

I turned to look at him, brows raised.

He pressed on. “would that be, like… a thing you’d be into?”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I laughed.

“What?” he said, slightly defensive. “That made sense.”

“No, it didn’t,” I said, still laughing. “Just ask me out properly, you idiot.”

He flushed deeper now, grinning despite himself. “Okay, fine.”

He cleared his throat, dramatically, placing one hand over his heart.

“Y/N Harrington, would you do me the immense honour of accompanying me on a date? Preferably one where I can attempt to redeem my tragic reputation?”

I smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “I would.”

He blinked. “Wait seriously?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I teased.

“I’m just I mean cool.” He sat back, pretending to be casual, but the grin on his face was blinding.

“I hope you know I’m going to destroy you at mini golf too,” I added.

He groaned. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

And just like that, the teasing started all over again but this time, it felt different.

This time, it felt like something beginning.

I was halfway down the stairs, one earring in and clutching my boots, when Steve’s voice cut through the Living Room TV on, legs sprawled, snack bowl balanced on his chest like a raccoon hoarding treasure.

“Oi,” he said, frowning up at me like I’d just walked into the room wearing a chicken suit. “Why do you look like that?”

I blinked. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely in my direction, squinting. “Like that. Like you’ve got some weird disease on your face.”

“Excuse me?”

“All that makeup and shit.” He sat up straighter now, bowl teetering. “Is it contagious?”

I groaned and stepped into the hall mirror, touching under my eyes just to check. “You’re unbelievable. God forbid you just say, ‘Wow, Y/N, you look really nice tonight.’”

“That’d be weirder,” he muttered. “You’re my twin. Complimenting you feels like incest.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are so dramatic. I barely put anything on.”

“You’ve got… sparkles on your eyelids.”

“They’re shimmer,” I said, like it was obvious. “Besides, you used to steal my moisturiser before dates.”

He waved me off like that had never happened. (It absolutely had.)

“Anyway,” he said, folding his arms now like some kind of dad. “You’re dodging the question. Where are you going? And why do you look like you're about to be interviewed on the red carpet?”

I slipped my boots on, casually avoiding eye contact. “Out.”

“Out where?”

I made a face. “On a date.”

His reaction was instant.

He straightened so fast the snack bowl hit the floor. “A DATE?! With who?!”

I winced. “Could you not shout?”

“I’m your brother. twin, actually. I’m genetically obligated to shout when my sister leaves the house looking suspiciously fit.”

“You make it sound like a crime.”

“Depends who the guy is.”

I hesitated.

His eyes narrowed.

“Don’t say it,” I said, finger pointed in warning. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m never not weird about it,” he said. “Who is it?”

I grabbed my coat.

“Y/N.”

I stalled.

He stood, hands on hips now.

“Y/N.”

I groaned. “Alright! It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Silence.

Then

“You’re dating Eddie Munson?”

“I didn’t say I was dating him. I said I was going on a date with him.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled like I’d told him I was going to lick a bus window. “Eddie our friend....The one who used to convince freshmen he could curse them with his guitar?”

“Yes, that Eddie.”

He ran a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ. Of all the people.”

“Don’t start.”

“No, no, I’m not judging. I’m just… digesting.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Do you even like him? I thought you two hated each other. Last week you called him a goblin with too many rings.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t hate the goblin as much as I thought.”

He squinted at me.

I squinted back.

Finally, Steve sighed, leaning on the back of the couch like the weight of the world had just hit him.

“I knew there was something between you two. You’ve been bickering like it’s foreplay.”

I choked. “Oh my god”

“Don’t even deny it. The way you two argue? It’s suspiciously flirty. Like enemies in a soap opera who end up shagging in episode three.”

“Can you not?”

He smirked, annoying older brother mode fully activated. “So what, he called you pretty and you forgot how much you wanted to punch him?”

I glared. “He did not call me pretty.”

Steve just grinned like he’d caught me red-handed. “So you’re saying he will?”

“I’m leaving.”

“You gonna kiss him?”

“Steve!”

“Just saying, if he hurts you, I’m putting spiders in his van.”

“I’ll let him know,” I said flatly, pulling on my coat.

He stepped forward, gentler now. “Just be careful, yeah? I know Eddie’s a bit of an idiot, but I also know he’s got a good heart under all that metal and eyeliner.”

I blinked. “Was that… sincere?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t get used to it.”

I smiled at him as I reached the door. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Still grossed out though,” he muttered. “You and Eddie. Ugh.” he fake gagged.

I gave him the finger and shut the door behind me, heart thudding in my chest.

The night was just getting started.

The mini golf place was decked out like a knockoff medieval fairground plastic dragons, crumbling stone towers, and a pirate ship for absolutely no reason. It was kitschy, ridiculous, and very on-brand for Eddie Munson.

He was already there when I arrived, leaned against the dragon statue like it was his throne, spinning a bright neon pink golf ball in his hand.

When he spotted me, he grinned like the cat who’d swallowed the canary and set the house on fire.

“Well, well, Harrington,” he said, pushing off the statue with a theatrical bow. “You’ve arrived to lose with grace, I hope.”

I crossed my arms raising my eyebrow.

He held out his arms. “Is this not the most romantic venue in all of Hawkins? Look at that knight statue over there he's literally proposing to a squirrel.”

“Are you planning on proposing tonight, Munson?”

He blinked. “I mean, if you sink the windmill shot in one try, I might have to.”

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re here anyway. What does that say about you?”

“That I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Or that you secretly love it when I annoy you.”

We bickered through the first six holes like it was our full-time job. Every time I missed a shot by an inch, Eddie would gasp dramatically and hold his heart like I'd stabbed him. When he managed a hole-in-one purely by dumb luck he pranced around the hole like he’d just won Wimbledon.

“You’re literally unbearable,” I muttered, watching him twirl his club like a cane.

He grinned, eyes bright. “You’re smiling.”

“I’m grimacing.”

“You’re blushing.”

“That’s the neon lights.”

He stepped closer then, a little smug, a little daring. “You’re imagining kissing me, aren’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “If I were, it’d only be to shut you up.”

“Hot.”

God, he was exhausting. And stupid. And kind of adorably stupid. Which was the problem.

We reached the pirate-themed hole complete with cannonball obstacles and a parrot animatronic that kept screeching “Walk the plank!” every thirty seconds and paused to take a breath (and eat the terrible vending machine chocolate he'd insisted on buying for us).

As we sat on the rickety bench nearby, the chaos melted for a moment. Eddie’s fingers brushed mine when he handed over my half of the chocolate bar, and instead of some dumb joke, he looked at me quietly.

“This is nice,” he said, voice softer than I expected.

I glanced at him. “You surprised?”

“Kinda.” He shrugged. “You know, I thought maybe you’d get sick of me halfway through and run off screaming into the Hawkins night.”

I tilted my head. “I did consider it.”

He chuckled, then looked down at his hands. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes, you know.”

I blinked. “What, to the date?”

“Yeah. I mean… you’re you. Smart, sharp, terrifying when you want to be. And I’m just… well, me.”

I frowned, suddenly wanting to shake him. “Eddie.”

He glanced at me.

“You’re not just anything.”

He looked at me like I’d slapped him but in a good way. Like no one had ever just said that to him straight.

I reached over, took the stupid golf pencil from behind his ear, and tapped it against his forehead. “Don’t get all emotional on me now. I’m still gonna beat your ass on the pirate hole.”

“Doubtful,” he smirked, confidence reloading like a shotgun. “But you’re welcome to try.”

I went first and somehow nailed the trick shot between the cannons. I raised both arms like I’d won the lottery.

“Boom!” I crowed. “Take that, Munson.”

He stared at the ball as it dropped neatly into the hole, then back at me. His jaw dropped.

“You...you hustled me.”

“Maybe I just got good while you were too busy showboating.”

He pointed at me accusingly. “You let me think I had the upper hand.”

I grinned. “Sweetheart, you never did.”

He looked stunned for a second. Flustered, even. Like I’d just out-Eddied Eddie.

I started to walk away to the next hole, smirking, but he grabbed my hand not rough, just enough to pause me and pulled me back.

“Wait.”

I turned. “What?”

He looked… nervous. Then steeled himself like he was about to leap into battle.

“Would you maybe wanna… do this again? Like… something else? Not just mini golf. Like… more dates. With me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to date you, Munson?”

He looked like he’d been caught shoplifting in a nun’s handbag. “I mean, yeah? If that’s not completely bonkers.”

I laughed actually laughed, half from disbelief, half from pure affection.

“Jesus, Eddie,” I said, “just ask me out, you idiot.”

He huffed a breath, stepped forward, and gave me a shy, crooked grin.

“Y/N Harrington, would you like to keep dating the annoying, overly dramatic metalhead who can’t mini golf to save his life but might just be absolutely into you?”

I grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

We were nearing the last hole some ridiculous castle setup with a drawbridge and LED torches and I was still riding the high of absolutely crushing him on the pirate ship hole. Eddie, for once, wasn’t talking. Just watching me. Too quiet.

I turned to him, suspicious. “Alright, what’s your deal? You look like you’re about to propose or faint. Possibly both.”

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking to my mouth for the briefest second before quickly darting away. “I’m not… I mean. I was gonna…” He stepped closer, barely a breath away. The smirk was gone. Just those dark eyes, all mischief swapped for nerves.

I arched a brow. “Gonna…?”

He opened his mouth like he might say something, like he might finally kiss me and then he chickened out.

Literally froze.

I watched his jaw tighten slightly. The muscles in his face doing that dumb, adorable twitchy thing they always did when he didn’t know what to say. And he never didn’t know what to say.

I let the moment hang there, then sighed loudly, dramatically and tilted my head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss.

He made a surprised little noise at first, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. And then he melted into it, fingers curling lightly around my waist like he didn’t want to push his luck.

When we finally pulled apart, he blinked down at me, dazed.

I smirked. “You really gonna leave me hanging like that, Munson?”

He blinked again, then grinned shy and crooked, somehow smug and stunned at the same time. “I was building tension.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling cowardice these days?”

“You wound me, Harrington.”

“Only your ego.”

He shook his head with a soft laugh and bumped my shoulder with his. “Remind me to let you take the lead more often.”

I nudged him back, my smile tugging at the corners of my mouth whether I liked it or not. “Remind me to not wait around for you to grow a pair.”

“Deal.”

And with that, we moved on to the last hole, fingers brushing together until they weren’t just brushing anymore.

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beasangel · 2 days ago

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if you’re gonna sin

⤷ rick grimes x fem!reader

💭“But you’re not going to go, are you?” you said, voice soft now, velvet over glass. “No, you’re going to stay right here..... with me”

after rick finds out the truth about lori, he shows up at yours looking for what he can't have. you call him out... and then you ruin him.

rick masterlist main masterlist

warnings: smut, cheating, age gap (reader is around 21), reader is a little shit i love it, my man needs a break, no lori hate!!! she did nothing wrong and i stand by that

The tent flap rustled like a secret. Soft. Hesitant. Like even he wasn’t sure he should be here.

You didn’t look up at first. You’d felt him coming, the way you always did, like the air changed around him, grew heavier, warmer. He carried something with him, a storm that lived just beneath his skin, always threatening to spill out.

There was something about Rick Grimes that always made you quiet when he entered a room.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, like he’d been stitched together with duty and grit and a kind of pain most people couldn’t name. Maybe it was the way he looked at people, like he was measuring their soul, not just their words.

Or maybe it was the way you looked at him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you murmured, your voice barely breaking the quiet.

Rick didn’t answer.

He stepped inside, boots heavy on the ground, and closed the flap zip shut behind him like a line being drawn in the sand.

You didn’t speak for a long while after that. Just watched him from the corner of your eye as he stood there, hat hanging from his fingers like he didn’t know what to do with it anymore. The lantern cast gold across his face, caught in the dark scruff on his jaw, the lines around his mouth that hadn’t been there even a month ago.

He looked exhausted. Like he’d aged five years since the sun went down.

“You saw her." you said quietly. Not a question. Just fact.

That got you a flicker of something. A muscle ticking in his jaw. His fingers twitching.

You sat up a little straighter, legs tucked beneath you, blanket pooling in your lap. “You asked about Shane.”

Still nothing.

“It’s his kid, isn’t it?”

That did it, a fracture.

Just a small one, but it cracked right through him. His shoulders tensed, lips parting like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t summon the lie.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said. But his voice didn’t sound convinced.

You leaned your head back against the tent and sighed. “You do. You just hate that I’m saying it out loud.”

He turned then, finally looked at you, and the heat in his gaze wasn’t gentle. It was wounded. Torn between wanting to be touched and wanting to burn the world down.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” he muttered. “Think you’ve got me all figured out.”

“I don’t,” you said, calm. “But I know what grief looks like. And I know what denial sounds like.”

Rick’s brow furrowed. “You think I came here to be judged by you?”

“No,” you said, voice low. “I think you came here because I’m the only person who doesn’t ask you to lie.”

That silenced him. Again.

And maybe that was what your connection had always been, not loud or dramatic or obvious. Just real.

You were younger, sure, but you weren’t naïve. You saw through him in ways that scared him. That tempted him. Like some siren in the woods, he kept telling himself not to follow but always ended up chasing anyway.

You just… watched. And waited. And when Rick was too tired to sleep, too tense to breathe, you were there. Not demanding anything. Just existing. And somehow, that made it worse.

Because you were young. Untouched by the life that had hardened everyone else. And every time you looked at him, it made something inside him ache.

You never said it, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

The way you lingered a second too long when you brushed past him. The way you’d lean in close when he was cleaning a weapon and ask him questions you already knew the answers to, just to hear him talk, just to feel the heat roll off his skin.

“You can fix this y’know, she’ll choose you.” You stood slowly, eyes never leaving him. “You’re not a man people just move on from.”

Something flickered behind his eyes.

You know that weren’t supposed to be important to him. Just another person in the group. Just another girl with a fast mouth and too much sarcasm.

You’d seen the way Lori looked at you, not like a threat, but like a warning sign. Something reckless wrapped in lip gloss.

But Rick… Rick looked at you like he was trying not to.

You noticed it before he did even realised what he was doing.

The way his eyes lingered when you leaned against a fencepost. The way his voice got quieter when he talked to you, as if it was dangerous to speak too loud.

And yeah, you wore short shorts when the sun baked down and tied your shirt too high when you went to wash up, but you weren’t doing it for him. Well, not at first.

It just became harder to pretend you didn’t know what you were doing.

And now here he was, sitting in your tent like he wasn’t quite sure what was about to happen.

He took a step closer.

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you didn’t move. Not away.

“But you’re not going to go, are you?” you said, voice soft now, velvet over glass. “No, you’re going to stay right here..... with me”

You stopped just in front of him, and the tent felt smaller, warmer. Like the space between you had started to hum.

He didn’t speak. Just stared at you, something breaking behind his eyes. You could see it now, the guilt, the craving, the tug-of-war between what he wanted and what he shouldn’t have.

“You think you’re temptation incarnate,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “And maybe you are. But that doesn’t make it right.”

You leaned in then, just enough for your breath to brush his cheek. “But it doesn’t make it wrong, either.”

“I ain’t stupid,” he said low, voice like gravel. “I know what you’re doing. God.” he said “I shouldn’t even be here.”

His eyes clenched shut as if he’s trying to burn the words into his brain.

“But you are,” you breathed, eyes never leaving his. “You always are.”

That landed like a punch.

He looked at you, really looked, and you saw it: the grief, the betrayal, the anger, the guilt. All of it, tangled up and fraying.

“Because I’m not her,” you whispered. “I won’t lie to you. I won’t make you feel small. I won’t punish you for needing something.”

“I don’t need you,” he growled, but it came out broken. Hollow.

You tilted your head. “Then why are your hands shaking?”

His breath hitched, and suddenly he was kissing you, his hands solid against your cheeks.

It wasn’t gentle, but it was slow, just as if he was testing the waters, pressing against your lips like a confession, a sin, a prayer.

You tried to kiss him back harder, mouth parting, hands threading into the collar of his shirt, but his hand knotted into your hair pulling you back, a hiss leaving your mouth.

“You think this is a game?” he murmured against your neck.

He kissed down your collarbone, slow and reverent now, like he was asking for forgiveness with every press of his mouth. His hands explored your waist, your ribs, slipping under the thin fabric like he wanted to memorize the way your skin felt.

You smiled, slow, a little wicked. “No, Rick. I think it’s the end of one.”

And then his mouth was on yours, all teeth and heat and desperation. Like he was trying to forget everything else. Like he was trying to remember how it felt to want something that wanted him back.

You felt his body lower over yours, pushing down, the bedroll rustling beneath you both, and your legs fell open instinctively, welcoming him between them. His hands slid beneath your shirt like he’d been dreaming of this moment but didn’t know if he was allowed to touch, and now that he could, he wasn’t going to stop.

You didn’t want him to.

You’d waited long enough.

You gasped against his lips, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “Fuck, Rick-”

He growled low in his throat, shoving you on your back, him right behind you, weight pinning you like he needed to own you.

“Think I haven’t wanted this?” he muttered against your jaw, dragging his mouth down your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. “Every time you smart off. Every time you look at me like you know what I need.”

Your shirt was gone in seconds. So were your shorts, tossed to the floor, your panties with them.

He knelt back on his haunches to look at you, fully bare, flushed, panting. You watched his gaze drag over every inch of you, jaw clenched like he was trying not to break you in half.

“Touch me,” you breathed. “Or I swear I’ll scream loud enough to bring the whole damn farm runnin’.”

The smirk that touched his lips was wicked. “That so?”

He dropped his hand between your legs, and you cried out, hips jerking as his fingers slid through the slickness there, rough and unrelenting, the pad of his thumb grinding into your clit while two thick fingers curled inside you, slow and deep.

“Christ,” he muttered, watching the way your body arched. “You’re soaking.”

“Because I’ve been waiting for this, Rick,” you hissed. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

He leaned down, biting your bottom lip. “Oh god.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply.

Rick flipped you onto your stomach, dragging your hips up as he knelt behind you. You could feel his cock, thick and throbbing, nudging against your entrance. He didn’t tease, didn’t ease in slow.

He slammed into you.

You cried out, fingers digging into the blankets, back arching as he bottomed out inside you, big hands gripping your hips so tight it bordered on cruel.

“Say it,” he grunted, thrusting deep. “Say who you belong to.”

“You,” you gasped. “You, Rick.... fuck-!”

He thrust harder, punishing. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the tent. His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so your mouth opened in a moan, eyes rolling.

“Lori never let you own her like this did she,” you spat out against the mat. “Never begged. Never gave in.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he panted. “you slut.”

He growled, low and feral, as he fucked you harder, faster, each thrust brutal and perfect, hitting something deep and electric inside you that made your thighs tremble.

Then his hand reached under to wrap around your throat.

Not tight, just enough to make your pulse jump, to send fire racing to every nerve ending.

“You gonna let me come inside you, sweetheart,” he whispered darkly, though not stated as a question. “stuff you so full you feel me for days.”

Your body snapped.

You came hard, clenching around him, your whole body shaking as you cried out his name, your orgasm tearing through you like a live wire.

Rick cursed under his breath; voice strained. “Fuck, you feel so good-”

He slammed in deep one final time, holding you there as he spilled inside you, hot and thick and endless. His breath stuttered against your shoulder, his hand still around your throat like a brand.

You collapsed together, tangled, sweaty, wrecked.

His mouth found your shoulder, soft now, his body finally quiet.

“Told you,” You turned your head just enough to look at him, smirking through your breathless haze. “you needed it.”

At that he just lets out a low and quiet laugh of disbelief.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x fem!reader #rick grimes age gap #rick grimes smut #andrew lincoln #twd rick #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x younger!reader

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 10 months ago

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I gotta say I REALLY do not like darkji plots whatsoever. What a way to miss the point of who Lan Wangji is as a person. It feels exactly like the people that call him selfish when him not being selfish and consistently helping people that are otherwise ignored for more excitement, is who he is. It's what drew Wei Wuxianto him post resurrection especially. Wei Wuxian realizes Lan Wangji himself would never want to be forceful if it was something Wei Wuxian was actually against.

As well as the juxtaposition of Wei Wuxian later comprehending when Lan Wangji asked him to come with him, it wasn't about control, it was to keep him safe, and away from as much harm from the world being CRUEL to Wei Wuxian because he didn't deserve that. And Lan Wangji knows exactly how he misspoke trying to relay that in the supervisory office. It's why he begins to listen to Wei Wuxian's words and this is shown on page when he visits the Burial Mounds and respects what Wei Wuxian is saying without interruption. He doesn't want Wei Wuxian to feel controlled, by him or anyone. He wants him to be able to be spoiled, pampered and loved. And none of that is at the expense of either of their morals.

They are not a "burn the world of everything for you for my love". Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe are, and their respective partners love that. But it's not what WWX wants at all or finds attractive. He finds LWJ constantly helping others, as mundane as it is, attractive. He likes to observe LWJ in those instances of mundane human kindness and admires that. He is not taken by destroy the world for you, because he idolizes nurturing patient teachings. He likes LWJ's love because it's passionate for him but it does not supersede their ideals.

His love and his ideals are what WWX wants, needs, and respects. Not obsessive control. As MXTX said, "I like Wei Wuxian, but give me Lan Wangji as a lover." Because he is an ideal, gentle, kind, selfless love that would let you grow and be comfortable with yourself. Why would I want anything uglier like controlling or hateful marring that?

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #if you think he is a burn and ruin for love person #you missed his point

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adahlenan · 3 months ago

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Haunted one

#ffxiv #gposes #my characters #Daine sicarius Occasus #long time no solo Daine pose. well. it's not really SOLO is it technically #please god click thru for fullview i am KICKING myself for not setting up a portrait bcs landscape is so bad on this site AUGH!!#Anyways hiiiiiii :3 #The masculine urge to hunt down your countrymen because you want to burn everything to the ground >#while you're trying to run from the memory of the one person you ever loved and ever WILL love but you chose the easy route and killed him.#and now hes haunting you metaphorically and literally through the ruins of your home as you lash out like a rabid dog and won't stop #until you take out everyone who tasked you with his assassination or you get put down in the streets like a dog.#anyways sorry i just cant stop thinking about them ever i promise i have other ocs #i just get to do so many things w these two that i cant do w other ocs and its fun lmao #actually im gonna tag Niki in this he deserves it #FFXIV Dominik Dekah

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prkhaven · 3 months ago

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LUCIFER -p.sh-

Banished away by the only place he’s ever known, Sunghoon was going to make sure the heavens regret ever betraying him by ruining you

pairing— fallen angel!sunghoon x virgin angel fem!reader

genre: smut minors do not interact, angel au, forbidden love, p with some/little to no plot

wc: 10k

warnings: manipulation, profanity, kissing, reader is innocent and a little oblivious

smut warnings: unprotected sex (safety first), p in v, edging, dirty talk, virginity loss, spitting, praising, fingering, corruption kink, oral (f rec.), breeding kink, overstimulation, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, usage of nicknames(angel, good girl, bad girl, pretty)

lily’s note: better late than never and happy 1k followers

Silence filled the atmosphere, shifting into something darker, looming and menacing. A nightmare—Your biggest nightmare come to life.

The known fallen realm walked through the entrance led by Sunghoon who chose to disregard the obvious attire formality of a masquerade ball.

Dressed in all black attire, none of the people matching together however still collectively wearing outfits that complimented solely each other. Easily due to the influence of Sunghoon’s doing.

Your jaw clenched because as much as you wanted to be angry for the lack of consciousness, especially in Sunghoon's part, you couldn’t deny that even as a fallen angel, he’ll remain the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

He threads closer to you. One large stride after another until he is right before you, bowing his head as a sign of respect—One that he used to receive himself when he was once in your very position.

Delicately picking your burning hand into his freezing ones, he planted a soft peck on it but never once did his eyes ever leave yours. There was a chill up your spine as he only gave a slight gleaming smirk before pulling away leaving your warm hand cold without his.

“You’ve done a marvelous job” His tone rumbling out deeply making your squirm, he smirked pulling out his masquerade mask hovering just over his eyes, a restful laid back smirk on his face

A chill ran up your spine from his enticing voice. It used to be warm and welcoming but now it felt taunting and teasing, “I expected nothing less from the perfect angel”

𓆩 𓆪

The ball returned to its somewhat regular state after that. Everyone amongst the two different realms stayed in their respective space, fearful of interacting with the other.

No matter how years pass by of the same ball being hosted yearly, nothing has changed. You nibbled on your lip trying to figure out some—any way that unites the two completely different worlds for one night all the way to sunrise when the ball has been concluded.

Too deep in your head, you didn’t pick up on the looming darkness behind until you heard it, “Do you dance?”

Your body froze while your mind erased everything it was thinking about when you turned around to see Sunghoon standing behind you. At least he had his mask on this time.

“Excuse me?” You whispered raising an eyebrow once seeing his offering hand for you grasp

“It’ll help liven up the ball just a little. Seeing you with me might do you the favors” He darkly chuckled, “Don’t want anyone seeing you in a dark light now do we angel?”

Crossing your legs at the sudden pet name falling from his mouth made you unexplainably bothered. You were annoyed by the unknown sensation that it was the perfect opportunity for him to clasp your hands into his.

You let out a silent squeal as you were suddenly brought dead center of the empty dance floor, his hand carefully landing on your waist while the other held your hand high in the air. A suddenly deepening instrumental rippled through the large hall and only then did your body’s move in sync.

“Not bad” He whispered loud enough to ear as he twirled you

Your complete white attire mixed with his dark one stuck out like a sore thumb. All eyes were on you, watching and witnessing the first dance between an angel and fallen angel in centuries.

Not even Sunghoon had chosen to dance with a fallen angel during his time as the perfect angel—A time long ago before his banishment.

He smirked noticing the gazes, his hand on your waist tightened as he guided you through the entire floor.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not, not once have you taken your eyes off Sunghoon. Ignoring the hushed whispers and questioning gazes of why you were with Sunghoon of all people. Why be with a traitor?

It didn’t matter however, well at least not at this very moment. Through the mask, he managed to shine brighter than any angel in the ball. Even way brighter than you.

“Do I have something on my face?” His voice laced with something that was never there before, something inviting

Eyes trained on you seeing the subtle gulp you tried to hide as you looked away from him shaking your head trying to get rid of the burning feeling on your cheek. He wondered what made you so shy all of sudden.

His hand lets go of yours leaving it to fall to his shoulder as he hooked his finger under your chin up to bring your eyes back onto him. You let out a breathless shudder noticing a difference in his smile now.

“There you go” He softly murmured before his fingers trailed from your shoulder to go lower on your arm until he found the palm of your hand to pry it off his shoulder and open to tangle his fingers perfectly with yours

In a state of shock, you didn’t close your hand leaving his hand to be the only one gripping yours. Anyone near would be able to see the shake of your body and the light goosebumps spreading all throughout from his cold touch.

You looked at him only made the smirk of his grow wider as he watched you. All from the rise of a goosebump on your arm that was later than the rest to the way your hands never fully closed around him. Yet, it was just enough where he could feel your fingers grazing his knuckles and how your clothes flowed around you so elegantly—Just like how he used to.

The music faded to mere background music as you solely focused on who was in front of you. A sharp glint in his eyes made your body turn and twist in ways you never experienced before. You could feel the thump against your chest grow faster the more you’re looking at him and in his hold.

The warmth of your hand disappeared when Sunghoon pulled away right before the music ended. Your eyes flashed trying to reconnect back into the world you were disconnected from to see Sunghoon bowing towards you. “It was a pleasure-“

He couldn’t finish his words when you were suddenly called out to and without a second spared turned a heel and left him behind on the now growing dance floor.

Your dance welcomed a new opportunity no one dared to touch but seeing you and Sunghoon dancing together—so beautifully, it allowed two opposite worlds to string together.

He watched your speeding legs towards who called you, his eyes never leaving you lighting patting at his chest. “See you soon angel”

𓆩 𓆪

Excusing yourself into the depths of an abandoned room with a large window letting the moonlight in as its only source of light. You let out a frustrated yell, removing your mask and throwing it onto the dust filled vanity, your body felt too hot to fully comprehend what was happening.

You were supposed to be celebrating after successfully starting the ball in ways no one else has ever done before. The fallen realm and your realm hesitantly but finally mingling together.

Yet, you’ve locked yourself deep into a room as you tried to get rid of the nasty feeling forming, clinging and trickling down.

Your stomach twisted and there was an ache down below in places you know were forbidden. Having read about these symptoms before in books restricted from the public eye but you had access to because of your current status.

Trying to shake your head to wake up from this growing nightmare. You fiddled with your purity ring like it could bring some hidden clarity.

Every angel received one to acknowledge their strong willed spirit, their deep devoted loyalty and hidden innocence to not fall into those sickening traps of false pleasure.

Roughly spinning the cold metal your finger as you stared at it.

This all started because of Sunghoon and his haunting spirit clouding around you from the moment he stepped foot into the ball.

You wish you could curse him out for managing to make you feel this way but your words caught in your throat unable to express how you were truly feeling.

You dipped your head low, finger still turning your ring clockwise. You wanted to enjoy the ball you worked so hard on without the lingering pain settling worse within you.

You whimpered hating how the mess only grew clinger to the point of discomfort. Flushing your body onto the vanity with your discarded mask, you looked up to see the hollowness in your eyes.

It was a search for something far out of reach. You knew that and yet the urge grew more. You wanted it so badly.

“Stop thinking about it” You mumbled quietly to yourself, “Stop it. You can’t think like this. You can’t have it-”

“Can’t have what angel?”

You jumped, knocking yourself into the vanity harshly with a yell you muffled when your hand landed over your mouth.

In the corner of the dark room, you see Sunghoon sitting in a wooden chair, head knocked back while his arms fell off to the side. “What- How long have you been here?!” You turned your body around to face him as he finally rose his head up with a deep sigh

Opening his eyes, you felt the sudden shiver creeping out of you when his harsh narrowed eyes looked at you. He tilted his head to the side, his hair falling in the same motion. The moonlight was the only way you were able to make out his silhouette but you could still see it like daylight.

You can nearly feel his shoulders again under your itching hands sending a wave past your stomach and itching further down.

Sunghoon observed you, his eyes raked over as he took in how the moonlight reflected on your outfit, structuring your outline perfectly as you looked at him with unknown hungry eyes beneath the innocent facade.

He smirked wildly when your legs unconsciously squished together. Realizing you were in a confined room away from everyone’s eyes and in front of you was him terrified you.

Sunghoon stood up from the chair, his height growing by the second as the ominous feel started to crawl into the back of your throat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath you took as he steps closer to you, “Like what?” Your voice barely above a whisper that could be heard

“Like you want to eat me up”

Sunghoon stood in front of you. The moonlight shining perfectly over him. Your heart stopped in your throat as your hands fidgeted back to the drawers on the vanity against your back.

For the first time, his eyes trailed down further to drink in your appearance. Noticing the effort you put into every single detail to be perceived in the white light of innocence—perfection—glory.

Indeed a perfect angel.

His hands landed on each side of you forcing you in between and keeping you in place. He leveled his head until his breath fanned over yours that he could hear the silent shake in it. Nose nearly brushing against each other while he stared deep into your eyes.

You feel so bare even though you were fully clothed. Sunghoon looked at you like you were an open book just for him, the pages filled with every thought that ever crossed your mind, even the far forbidden ones you tried to ignore.

“What’s wrong angel?” He removed a hand from the vanity to run his fingers to ghost your shaky arm

Your heavy breaths only worsened. Your eyes wavered trying to look away from him but couldn’t. The rationality faded away as your fear filled eyes now replaced with the glinting hunger.

He held back his smirk wanting to be as welcoming as possible to you. His ghosting fingers landed on your skin burning you up instantly. “You can talk to me” His voice slurred the words together, “You’re wrong if you think no one will understand”

“I can understand you, I’m the only one that knows what’s going on” His words of comfort seeped deeper into your mind meddling into the cracked walls of it

You looked towards him. Besides his clear banishment, you knew who else would know better than the previous perfect angel? Sunghoon knew things that you didn’t know of and he could help.

“There’s something bothering me…” Your soft voice made his heart roar against his chest

“Talk to me” He noticed how your eyes flickered all over his face, memorizing everything that he had to offer

The moles on his face, his sharp nose, his obviously built body. It struck you harder when you were reminded of the clothes he wore. The contrast to yours, reminding you of who he is—what his status is compared to your.

An angel forced to fall from grace.

Your mouth dropped and you quickly shook your hands and head. “I-I No. I shouldn’t” Your shaky voice did nothing but prove wrong your growing desire

“But you can” He whispered, “That's the beauty of it. You can” His ghostings fingers softly gripped your arms to wake you up from reality to drag you deep into fantasy

His hands trailed over your arms, each move burning more than the last. You shivered in his touch, something in the back of your mind, the little rationality you had left screaming at you to get away as far as you can.

But you jolted feeling his hands land onto your stomach and resting there. His thumb rubbed softly as he looked deep into your eyes,“It’s okay angel”

“Just tell me and I promise to make it all go away” His reassuring voice, his burning touch, you whimpered loudly.

Sunghoon’s hand froze and he felt his body become rigid hearing the pained whimper you let out. You sounded magnificent. “Hu-hurts”

“What hurts?”

Your eyes went up to look at his captivating eyes. There was reassurance, warmth that radiated deep into your soul making you melt. Deep down Sunghoon will forever be an angel regardless of his current status as a fallen one.

“Down there” You voice lowering towards the end, you felt embarrassed, your cheeks burning up and Sunghoon let out a light chuckle

“Where my hand is?” You forgot about the hand on your stomach and when you felt the faint rub of it, you nibbled on your lips harshly

He read you like an open book. “Or is it lower?” The drop of his voice and hand made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach feeling his hands thread further down, his eyes never once leaving yours

The hitch in your breath was his direct answer. Holding back a smirk, his hands drew closer acculating your clothes covering you. “Words angel… I need you to guide me” He whispered as his hands stopped just right above

With shaky hands you grabbed his wrist and brought it down further until it slotted right in between your legs. Instinctively Sunghoon cupped your core making you yelp.

Raising an eyebrow, he brought his mouth to fan over your ear, “Oh… This is a easy fix”

Your body felt so hot. His fingers softly grazed at your pussy, feeling the sticky sensation leaking through your outfit, making you jerk into his touch.

Eyes screwing shut as you lived in his grazing fingers but he ripped his hand away making you let out a pitiful gasp from the sudden warmth disappearing.

His eyes roamed over you, the bite on lip that he swears he could taste the metallic taste on his tongue.

Panting heavily, you carefully looked at Sunghoon's build. His previous face was replaced with a comforting look as his hand grazed your neck higher before his thumb was outlining your cheek. “May I help you fix it?” The tone soft and welcoming

“I hate to see you suffer what I suffered through”

Pure genuine emotion in his eyes folded you in half. Believing him almost instantaneously. You pouted your lips as you pawed at his wrist again, instigating more from him.

“Easy I’m going to help you” He chuckled softly noticing your eagerness, you looked at him with shaky eyes fueling his insides to roar louder than ever before, “Just say the words” His voice hushed

Knowing what he wanted, you nibbled at your lip, licking over the dryness of them. The thoughts running through your mind fading into nothing as all else disappeared when you looked into his eyes, he knew what you wanted.

“H-Help me Sunghoon” Your voice barely above a whisper but it was like a siren call to him that dragged him to you, he smiled softly before dipping his head into a hang

He lifted his head and looked straight into your eyes again with a nod of his head, “Anything for you… Perfect angel” He reminded but before you could retaliate his cold hand cupped at your clothed core again

You gasped, your hands rushing over to clasp over your mouth with a pained sound slipping through. The tips of his finger already teasing through the fabric, feeling the dampening material hitting them.

Your free hand clasped around his dipped wrist, your breath shuddering with each slide of his fingers as they rose higher in between your folds until they met your sensitive bud. “S-Sunghoon”

“That’s my name” His whisper rung in the shell of your ear

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head the moment his finger pushed on a sensitive spot that made you wail. His fingers mimicked an infinity motion that made your arms flail to his shoulders. Your head racked against him as your chest felt heavy.

“It’s okay. I’m right here with you” The words passed your ears to your mind, your shaky hands holding onto him for support

A jolting shivering rose up your spine as your mind became hazy to the feel. Sunghoon’s finger dipped in between your folds, the feel of your soaking self seeping through to his finger made him harshly bite his lip.

Roughly bringing his finger back to your clit, your head hung low as you steadied your breaths with pants. Your heart was beating out of your chest that you swore he could hear it from how close he was to you now.

Your mouth opened to say something but you felt his cold hand trailing around your jaw. Separate movements managing to make you jolt harsher in his hold. His fingers traced around your cheeks as he lifted your chin.

The glint in his eyes made you close your mouth.

“Let me hear you angel” He muttered loud enough for you to hear

The harder press against your bundle of the nerves had a tightening feel in your stomach. “Wa-Sunghoon!” You squealed louder as the tingling sensation became worse

Unable to concentrate and make a coherent sentence, your shaky hand tightly gripped his forearm as your jaw hangs open with breathless moans leaving it. Sunghoon stared at your screwed shut eyes.

Unconsciously your body rocked to feel his cupped hand. He noticed your lower body rubbing faster in his hand, he scoffed out a smile as he looked at your scrunched up face.

Hands roaming his tone build as you used his hand for your pleasure, the knot in your stomach was daring to snap. Your head falling off his body to the side as it twirled to the back.

“Sunghoon” You cried out his name

A flash flowed over his eyes. His hand cupped deeper and harder, his fingers working faster against you as your knocked back head landed onto his shoulder.

Your mouth directly into his ear, as he roughly pushed you against the vanity, the table smacking against the wall, knocking over whatever was on it in its wake, his free arm holding your back while you held onto him for support.

Your breathless moans became more frequent, you were shaking in his hold. “Weird, I feel weird” You muttered clawing at his body

“I know but it’s going to feel so good soon I promise. Just let go” He whispered soothing your raging nerves to a bay

Your mouth hangs open, pitiful whines and moans growing louder each second directly into his ear. Unable to open your eyes and assess what’s around, your body becomes limp being engulfed by him. His fingers rubbed harder against your clit, the tips of his finger dipping into the crevice in between your folds teasing your covered core.

The height with your heads in the cloud, his hand ripped away from its cupping manner as you pushed him away the moment a faint knock to the door followed by a soft calling of your name snapped you out.

Chest heaving as you harshly gulped down staring at him. His body relaxed and calm—opposite from yours. Your burning lower half left you bothered but shaking your head to snap out of it. The side of his lips tugged up seeing distress wash over you.

You immediately turned around against the vanity to see your once cleaned demeanor tarnished. Uneven short ragged breaths as you hastily pull and adjust the out of place material to its proper place.

Undeniable shaky hands dragged down your face. Clearing your throat quietly, “Okay so I’m going to leave first and then you’re going to wait a few minutes before…“ You turned around grabbing your discarded mask off the vanity in the process but stopped to see no one there

Jittering around the now empty room. Your open mouth was going to call out his name but you quickly shut it the moment the door bursts open.

Straightening out your posture and stopping in your very, you turned around to see the crowd growing by the second and spilling into the room with endless questions of your well being and of just why you would lock yourself away in this scary room.

“You have no idea what’s out there!” A voice slipped past through your ringing ears, you looked behind to the darkness of the room you were in as you were carefully guided out broken door back into the light of the bustering ball

”Look at you, you’re shaking!”A worried pitched voice cooed in your ear, rubbing up and down on your causing a silent hiss to slip through attempting to pull yourself away from the touch

Your gaze to the floor seeing your feet following after the other as your lips tugged to the side brushing past your uneven balance by the tugs pulling you away.

Angels would never do harm, you knew that much taking pride in being one and Sunghoon was once one—surely he’d abide by it again while on your turf.

𓆩 𓆪

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Managing to get through the ball under the spotlight and eyes of everyone, it felt like a weight off your shoulder.

Licking your lips to remoisturize them felt taunting as your eyes felt hollow yet thoughts ran through your mind sparking up your dull eyes for a second.

A frown laid upon your face as you harshly turned your back away.

You sighed as your shaky hand tried to calm itself as you neatly placed your mask in the corner of the table. Your gaze remained on the discarded mask for a second longer than you wanted.

Blinking harshly and slightly shook your head as you threaded to remove yourself from your attire but a light knock stopped you.

Softly turning your head to scan your room, you were met with nothing. Your eyes landing towards the doorway leading to the balcony set only for your use, your feet moved on its own as you ignored the gnawing eating at you.

Pushing open the door, the night sky and moonlight illuminating did nothing to show if there was anything out there. Quickly scanning around the area, your tensed shoulders dropped.

Rubbing your forehead with light grumbling you were going to go back finishing getting ready for sleep. Your body barely turned until you quickly whipped your head back seeing the mask neatly placed on the marble floor.

Your eyebrows knitted together before crouching down to pick up the mask.

Squinting your eyes, your eyes follow the design of it. The tips of your finger tracing after. “Like it?”

Turning too quickly, you trip over your feet. The mask at hand slipped through your fingers and fell to the ground. You gasped seeing Sunghoon’s face come into view right in front of you. His arms securely behind your back to save you from the fall. “You need to be more careful” His voice light and airy in your ears but heavy on your heart

A harsh thump smacked against your chest as your hand ran to push his body away from yours. “What are you doing here?!” Your quietly screamed

Sunghoon raised his hands up in defense. The smirk wiped off his face as he fixed his posture. “Wanted to personally bid goodbye to you” He gave a light smile before bowing his head, his arm extended over his chest to his heart

You opened your mouth to say something. He lifted his head up and his eye caught yours. You closed your mouth opting to let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at your nape before bending your body forward to return the bow.

“What are you really doing here?” Your tone questioning made him laugh, he straightened out his body before clearing his throat and tugging at the hanging neckline of his sweater

“I know everyone graced with your presence must properly bid you well” His voice dropping with each word, eyes averting yours, fingers crossing over themselves, “I really only came to say goodbye, I swear”

“That’s a bold statement to make. Especially in my presence” Your voice became stern making him drop his head

Silence fell upon you both. Your teeth gritted against each other as you watched his unmoving body. Slightly tugging at your bottom lip while keeping him in your sight, you took a step closer to him.

In his lowered eyesight, his discarded mask was brought into view. He slowly raised his head and gracing your face was a small smile that caused his own. “I believe you Sunghoon”

Simple words struck a cord deep inside of him. His resting hands balled into a fist as he let out a strained sigh as his lips tightened into a thin smile. “Thank you” He uttered carefully grabbing the mask from your hands

You pulled your hand away the moment you felt his hands graze yours. The feel instantly overwhelmed you as you looked anywhere else but at him. His eyes took notice and he uncomfortably moved his mouth around before nodding his head at you.

Turning a heel, he walked over to the edge of the balcony. His hand felt the familiar marble pillars as railings and he softly laughed at himself. “Memories?” Your voice came from behind

Simply only able to nod, he began to feel your presence growing closer to his. His fading smile returned full force on his face before peering off his shoulder to you right beside him.

Wavering eyes and a silent shake in your breath when he looked at you. Shifting his body to fully face you, his hand rested onto the rail. “You sure know how to surprise someone” You joked causing a hearty laugh from him

Your face dropped upon hearing his laugh tumble out. Noticing your silence, Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Sorry- I just haven’t heard you laugh”

He remained his gaze on you before looking ahead of him to the moonlit scenery—sighing heavily, his eyes naturally looking around. “I don’t really remember the last time I was able to have fun” He admitted

The shift in him made your heart churn. “Maybe that’ll change” He turned his attention back onto you

Instantaneously, you froze up under his lingering gaze. A thought crossed your mind of there being something more than he meant while a jitter coursed through you and a feel washed over as you awkwardly shifted on your feet.

His eyes looked up and down before letting his hand slip away from the rail to land at his side. He watched your eyes move in between him and the ground. His mouth teased upwards before he dropped it. The excitement began to burst out of your chest, the closer he got.

“When was the last time you had fun… Perfect Angel” The elegance tied to the name felt different than the other times people called out to you

It feels heavier—darker, more exciting now that it left your legs to squish together. Noticing your action, he stopped right in front of you.

Your eyes remained trained on the floor yet, his finger hooked under your chin. Your gaze being brought up to meet him, “I’m sure good girls are supposed to use their words”

“So use them for me pretty” Your heavy breath became shaky as an audible shudder left past your lips, your eyes fluttering as you looked over his face

His thumb stroked your cheek with a soft smile. You tried to pull your head away but he gripped your chin to keep you still. The now stroking thumb tapped at your parted lips, “Well?”

Your bottom lip quivered as he brushed over it, softly humming to himself satisfied with the plush feel under the pad of his thumb before slightly tugging it down.

His gaze remained on your mouth while yours remained on his trained eyes. In a teasing manner, he slip through your parted lips, “Sorry” He quietly muttered yet showed no sign of actual apologies

He smirked wildly, noticing how you immediately welcomed the foreign flesh into your mouth without hesitation. “Have to be careful, there’s some evil people out there” He pressed his thumb onto your tongue causing a gurgle sound to slip out

His eyes drooped as his free hand strokes your head in a slow motion, “No need to worry, I can scare them away” He murmured as your hand rose to his forehead to hold him

No intention of pushing him away, you realized you enjoyed this far more than you should have. You blabbed gibberish against his thumb, “Look at you trying to speak with your mouth full” He tooted, “You got it” He ushered you to get something out

Through the accumulative spit, your eyes became watery, the burning sensation in your core now throbbing for attention. It was far more painful than earlier. “Please” You weakly wailed and he pulled back his salvia covered thumb from your mouth

His eyes looked at the string of saliva connecting you together, he smiled to himself watching how you took deep breaths to regain composure. His hands landed at your side, lighting trugging you towards him.

A gasp slipped past his tongue as he looked at you with an unexplainable expression. “Please what?” He narrowed his eyes at you, “Use your words. I can’t read what’s in that pretty head of yours”

The words held some truth to them. Not able to read what’s directly in your mind but he can see what’s flashing glint in your eyes and how your body reacts to his touch.

You opened your mouth, playing with the words in your mind to form anything to say. His eyes burned into you, ushering the words to fall from your mouth. “Help me” The tone of voice was near pitiful and gut wrenching

His heart leaped and hammered against his chest, he softly cooed at you, “I got you angel” His hand rose up to your cheek softly creasing his thumb over it

Shuddering under your breath, his hand traveled down tracing your jaw in its wake before softly grabbing at your neck. You looked before he softly tugged you to him, his lips pressing against yours.

Unmoving from the new sense of flesh pressed against you. Your eyes widened watching his opened ones staring right back at you, he smirked in the kiss before planting pecks on the side of your mouth.

Your heart caught in your throat as you tried to gulp down the lump. Your hands squished in between your bodies as you softly gripped his shirt. The fuzz cotton under your fingertips made you shiver, the eclipse shining in the center with the deep v-cut exposing the dangling plain chain against his chest, a different shirt from what you saw at the beginning of the night.

“Want to wear it?” He hummed against your skin, his teeth faintly nicking at it made you jump at the feel

Your hands pressed at his chest as your eyes fluttered closed shut. His roaming hands rested at your back, pulling you closer to him. Instinctively, your knees buckled underneath you, the fuzzy feeling in your mind traveling everywhere.

The wet sensation soon left your skin and before you were able to open your eyes, the soft press against your lips made you hum in delight. Your hands came in between as you softly grasped his face into your hand. “There you go angel” Muttering in the kiss as he pushed your body backwards

Your legs moving with the flow as he followed after yours. His hand rose higher up your body. The dark long sleeve covering the white coloring of your top.

Focusing too much on the kiss, you barely managed to hear the faint click of the door closing until you were carefully guided onto your bed.

Laying you down on your back just enough to have your legs hanging off the edge, his body hovered over yours. Hands on each side of your head while your arms snaked around his neck to keep him close.

The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, you were putting far more teeth, nipping at his lips but he groaned when you did.

“Sorry” You muttered against his lips, unable to pull yourself away

He chuckled, shaking his head before tilting his head to deepen the kiss. “Practice will make perfect”

Your head felt heavy but the plush of his mouth moved as he placed countless kisses to the side of your face tracing it until he reached your neck again made you feel light.

His body rested softly on yours, his hands dropping to your side before slipping underneath and tracing up higher.

Breathless moans slipped through, filling the quiet room with your noise. Sunghoon felt his stomach churn hearing how you sounded.

Indeed a perfect angel meant to be tainted in darkness.

Your chest rose and dropped with each pant. Your body becoming pliant against his touch, your head buried to the side of your mattress. Squishing your legs tighter together in an attempt to ease the pressure.

Sunghoon looked at you. Placing one last kiss at your neck before pulling away. His eyes traveled to you underneath him, how your arms bent up and hand covered your face but your smile still peeked through the cracks of your fingers all whilst his hand rested on your stomach.

You were waiting for someone to come and show you. Of course no one else is going to do that but him, not only can he do that, he can do so much more—which he will.

“Absolutely perfect” He said, “But let’s fix your position” He hummed before pulling his hand away to lightly land on your thighs

You shivered, the touch near where his hand once was made your heart race. He watched your expression, how your breath hitched at where he rested.

His fingers trailed down on each side of your legs before reaching your knee. Tracing over the outline of it, he chuckled before cupping at each of them. “Open for me”

Barely noticing any resistance on the prey of your legs opening. You were so trusting, far too willing. “There you go” He quietly praised as the dipped crevice came into view.

Your glistening pussy peeking out in full display caused the jur in his own pants as he bit harshly on his tongue to hold back the moan to slip out.

He carelessly forgot. Undergarments weren’t a thing here.

“Fuck” He breathlessly whispered under this breath making you snap your head to him, eyes wide looking right at him as you tried to pull your legs away

Quickly his grip tightened on your knees, “I didn’t mean it. Forgive me angel” He slurred the words as he sank down to his knees causing you to push yourself up to your arms, “It was careless of me to say that. I’m sorry”

You looked at him and your heart nearly jumped out seeing the position. Laying on his knees in front of your opened legs, his head cranked up to you as his eyes bore into yours. Your jaw dropped as you tried to get him to stand up again but failed when he gently pushed you back. “Let me work for your forgiveness. See if I’m worthy of it”

“Sung-“ You stopped when his fingers feathered up to the and his face inched closer before burying in the warmth of your pussy, instantly inhaling the scent with the wet slick rubbing on his nose

You squealed loudly the moment his face touched upon your bare self. Hands falling around your mouth to stop the sounds from bouncing out louder than you wanted. Sunghoon looked from between your legs and frowned instantly, “You don’t have to cover your mouth”

“No one can hear anything” He watched how you took his words without a second thought and loosened your hand before having it fall to your side to grab onto the sheets in support

“Don’t let yourself hold back. Let anything and everything out- Don’t think about it and just let go”

Your body nearly toppled when you felt a wet stride strike across your folds, his hands moved from your knees to your hips as he held them to keep you in place.

“Let me apologize” His voice muffled sending vibration from your core straight to your head

Slacking his jaw, his mouth closed tasting the essence of you on his taste buds making him instantly light headed. “Hoon!” Your voice pitched out as you tried to pull away but he placed a hand on your stomach ushering you to lay back down

“Let me at least do this for you” He pulled away a string connecting in between making you try to close your legs but he forced them open.

Burying his head back into you, “Don’t close them on me” Your mouth fell open again when he sucked on your bud that shot electricity throughout your entire body

You’ve read about this in the books at the restricted library. You just couldn’t recall what the name is. Your body arched off your bed, your lower half pressed firmly against the mattress as he kept you there.

“So sweet. So damn sweet” You managed to hear him through the ringing of your ears while his tongue smeared around your folds, expanding the wet mess

Your soft whines seeped past through his ears to his brain as he lapped at your pussy like a man who's been starved of his favorite meal. “Sunghoon” You breathlessly call out his name but unable to say anything further more when something slipped past your tight hole

He hissed at raw narrow tightness, “Good girl” He watched as his single finger disappeared in you, your hole spasming around the intrusion trying to push him out—to deny yourself of what you want

The hand holding you in place rubbed its thumb against you. Your breath shudders with you trying to articulate words when you feel the drag of his finger leave your gummy walls before easing back in. “So wet… Makes it so much easier”

Your head knocked back into the mattress while your hand fisted at the sheets. His finger slid in and out of you, his eyes watching how you coated him—leaking around and sliding off through the crevice crack.

His eyes zeroed in how your fluids traced down the dip of your body, threading into a territory he promises to work his way to.

You let out a loud wail when his finger curled inside, feeling the soft gum of your walls at his fingertips. You shook your head but his mouth attached itself back to your clit making you moan out his name.

Sunghoon smirked once he heard the increased volume of your noises. Taking his words as exactly as he told you—he smirked against your pussy before sucking at your folds as his finger swirled around.

Your hand itches to play with his hair and he felt the hesitance radiating off of you. He’s quick to grab your hand and ruffle it into his hair, giving you the chance to hold him.

Instantly, your hands tangled into his hair. The smoothness of it raked through the slots of your fingers as you closed your eyes, allowing your mouth to slack itself—letting all noise slip out.

You cried out when your hole was stretched even more after the addition of another finger. He pushed your walls apart, scissoring you open all while his tongue tried to slip in daring to open even wider.

Lifting his fingers to brush against your gummy walls in a repetitive motion had you shivering, “So pretty” He praised, his eyes focused on your stretched out hole, “You take stuff so well”

Your stomach flooded at the feel, a curling sensation forming the more he slipped his fingers in and out, curling them at just the right moment when he eased in and correlating it with his mouth on you.

He could tell you were close. The pulse around his fingers was the indicator. He pumped his fingers at a faster pace, “Hold on wait- m“ You felt a spasming feeling in your stomach, weakly shaking your head as your moans became broken

Your eyes screwed shut but shot open when the crunching feeling was ripped away causing you to let out a deep whine. But the feel of a wet sensation landing onto your core made you freeze as you looked to see the string of saliva falling from his mouth down onto you.

His eyes remained on your pussy, his finger creasing over your mound spreading his spit around your sensitive folds. Having pulled them apart watching the contraction motion of your hole before letting go.

His hand slapped at your pulsing self and you loudly gasped and tried to close your legs but he pressed his body in between to prevent that.

“You’re already leaking so much…” He softly muttered to himself before sending another soft slap to your soaking self made you jump in shock, the wet sound ringing out your room while your incomplete fluids splashed around

You tried to weakly call out his name until you noticed him admiring the fingers that were once knuckles deep inside of you. He examined his hand with a soft smile on his lips before bringing it to his lips, sucking them clean.

When he looked over to you, he observed how you looked at his pruned soaked fingers and he lightly chuckled before bringing them to your lips, tracing over them. His thumb cupped your jaw while his index finger rubbed at your lips before forcing it open to slip in.

You accepted the invitation of his two fingers without resistance, he darkly chuckled as he pushed further down.

Your throat constricted him, rumbles of gargle sounds erupted out preventing him from going any further and he smirked feeling how your throat tightened around his fingers. Cooing at you as his free hand creased your head, “Don’t worry, I promise to you’ll be able to take more soon” He assured you before pulling out his fingers

He shook his hand, riding off the excess wetness on them as he let out a laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He hummed tilting his head to the side an amused smile on his face

“Like what?” You frowned slightly as you looked at him with narrowed eyes

“It’s okay to feel frustrated. It doesn’t always feel like that. I’m checking what you can handle and what you can’t”

“I don’t want you to get hurt for biting off more than you can chew” His hand creased at your head, the same comforting smile stretching across his face prompting your own in mere seconds

“I promise you that this is it. You have my word” He hummed before carefully placing a peck onto your forehead, “Let me do all the work, just sit there and look pretty for me angel” the stretched name made your heart hammered against your chest as you hips rutted in the air

Sunghoon tooted his lips, slightly shaking his head. “Impatient” He sighed before slapping at your still sensitive pussy again

You lightly groaned, your body crumbling forward but he pushed your upper body back down the mattress to keep you laying and exposed for him, “Good girls can get punished if they misbehave. You don’t want to be like that okay?”

“A perfect angel must be the best. The standard, to show everyone that no one can reach you—that no one can ever be as worthy as you”

“You can’t taint yourself with unnecessary things” He explained and his words had an underlying hint underneath it that made your eyebrows furrow

“And is this unnecessary?”

Your question made him look at you, eyes softening the moment he catches yours slightly shaking his head. “Of course not. These are the needs that have to be cured and taken care of”

“If these were deemed unnecessary, it wouldn’t happen in the first place”

Softly cupping your face into his hands, he placed a kiss onto your lips—a little longer than the past times. “You need to be taken care of. So please let me have the honor of doing so” He asked, almost pleading with the slurred toned he used

With the soft nod of your head, his smile itched greater, his cheeks pulling higher. His hands pulled away from your head and fiddled with the belt of his pants. The metal clanking sound had your eyes wandering to the evident bulge peeking out, only to see it grow in size when his pants fell to the floor.

Your eyes furrowed, noticing the second layer of fabric covering him. “It’s standard procedure for us when you’re there” He meant where he now resided in the fallen realm

Nodding your head at his response to your silent question, “Take them off” He quietly said, taking a step closer to you and grabbing your hand, “I’ll help you”

You sucked your bottom lip and gulped harshly as he guided your fingers to hook at the top of the piece of material before dragging, guiding your hands to pull down the fabric in its way.

Your heart jumped before stopping as your eyes grew in size seeing what was in front of you. How what was being confined inside of the thin fabric sprung out once it was freed, the angry leaking tip hitting against him as you fully pulled down his briefs to land with his pants.

He watched as you took at the notice of the large shaft resting, “This is going to make you feel good too” He inched close to close the gap inbetween

Your eyes flickered in between his strained smile and erection staring right at you. “Take a big deep breath for me angel” His voice hoarse and strained trying to lace it over with a warm, comforting feel

Grabbing his shaft at hand, he silently hissed at the cold touch but tried to shake his head. Sizing himself to your slicked folds, before his tip touched the essence of you with his own. He silent hissed, nearly knocking his back as he rubbed an inch of his cock over your folds.

He could hear the gasp you let out but he remained focused on watching how your arousal coated him the more he pressed himself higher between you. “Just setting everything up” His voice was straining as he watched the layer of your pussy spread as he slipped by

Your quiet moans filled his mind when his tip gilded higher until it grazed over your clit. His moves are slow and calculated, trying to coat himself as much as possible, that his hands are drenched by what’s leaking out of you.

“So fucking wet” He whispered under his breath as it got blocked by your growing pants when he dragged himself harder against you, the pace growing faster

His hand wrapped harder around his cock as he focused on how you were leaking even more that he didn’t believe was even possible.

Your eyes were closed, the foreign feel of flesh upon flesh made your heart jitter in your chest. Forbidden was all that changed through your mind but you weakly shook your head when the rubbing suddenly stopped.

Trying to snap out of the dizzying pain, Sunghoon aligned himself at your entrance. His heart beating so loud he swore you’d be able to hear it over yours. He licked his lips once he realized your gaze was now on him.

Your eyes wander around, noticing the plain necklace hanging on his neck but it disappears from your mind when a flesh tip is teased at your hole before trying its best to push past the undeniable squeeze and focus on how you strived to accept him.

Sunghoon’s body crumbled forward, arms resting on each side of your head as he weakly held himself up while his head fell into the crevice between your neck and shoulder.

His breath shook as he tried his best to even his raging mind out. His sanity and rationality plumpting further down the hole he left them in.

“Never thought there could be anything more perfect than you” He grunted, pushing past the tightness of you as you gripped around him, “But your pussy tells me otherwise”

“Too much- Too big!” You thrashed, tears brimming at your eyes as the stretch grew more as he inched deeper, “Sung- Hurts!” You cried out but he only cranked his neck to nuzzle into your neck

He messily placed kisses against your neck, sucking on the skin to tarnish it. “I know but you’re a good girl. You can take it for me angel”

Your fingers dug into his back, holding onto him while the tears split and fell down your cheeks. Sunghoon kissed your tears away, messily pampering you with kisses, “Focus on me” He grunted once he bottomed out

Clenching around him as you tried to get adjusted to the size you never believed to be introduced to or feel ever in your life.

“So full” You weakly muttered causing him let out a strained laugh

“Taking me so well” He messily kissed your cheek, “Never doubted you’d be so good to me—maybe even too good for me”

You opened your mouth to respond but instead a guttural hissed left your throat when he softly moved an inch away from you. “Shh I know”

“Do you trust me?”

His words meant to feel heavier but to your mushed mind, you nodded your head right away. “I trust you Sunghoon”

Forfeiting to him caused his cock to twitch inside of you. The closed confinement made it nearly impossible to move or try to stop himself from coming at that moment. “It’s going to feel good, I promise”

A silent hissed mixed together as he carefully dragged himself out as much as he was allowed to before pushing himself back into you. “Shit” He groaned loudly, “So fucking tight-“

You buried your head into the crook of his neck as your bottom lip shivered. Your face covered in your tears as you let out pained wails, “Look at me. I need to see you” He pushed your clinging body away until you came into his view

Your chest rising with each shaky breath you took, your eyes staring at him before his head dipped and captured one of your breasts into his mouth. Hands flung to his hair, harshly tugging at it when he pulled out more before slamming right back into you.

You wrench your fingers to interlock with his hair, your body barely able to jerk up with him resting against you.

Sliding out and repeating the same motion of going back into you, Sunghoon swears he’s returned to where he was meant to belong—in heaven.

The sounds that leaked from your mouth only fueled the carnal desire within him. Once finding a pace that he felt you clench around him tighter than anything ever before but grateful for your arousal leaking around him and slipping by, he didn’t let up.

Grabbing at your sides, the tip of his cock prepping and tickling your insides made you melt. “Burns Hoonie” You squealed, your hands dragging down his back, holding onto him desperately

“I’m right here angel. Doing amazing- Taking me so good in that sweet pussy of yours” He grumbled as his hips slammed against yours, the lewd sound of your arousal plastering on him made your face scrunch and your stomach burn

“Sung…Hoon! Ho-hoon!” Your voice were like sirens in his ears, Sunghoon’s body couldn’t let up to a slow pace—forbiddening that thought from his mind

Harshly meeting you with his hips, his grunts grew more frequent. “Look at you calling out to me” He laughed, “Cock feels that good in you?”

Only able to nod your head, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body jolts forwards from his thrust. He watched how you moved on the mattress, how the loud creaking of your bed would easily expose you. A smirk plastered on his face when his hand twisted at your nipple making you loudly squeal.

“Answer me”

You tried to hide your face but he gripped your chin to keep you from looking away from him. His stern gaze made you scrunch your face before wailing out, “Feels so good- I love it”

He smirked but it dropped because it wasn’t enough. Selfishly, he wanted more—He will get more.

“Not good enough” He grunted, “Say you love how deep it’s inside you. How fucking good my cock is to you”

Your face scrunched, shaking your head but his grip on your jaw worsened, ushering you to say—he knew you felt it, you just needed to openly admit it.

Aimlessly opening your mouth to speak, “So good. So deep. I love your-“ Your voice got caught in your throat to finish the sentence

“Say it angel”

A sudden harder thrust made you scream, your nails clawing at his back that you were sure you were scratching him through his top. “Love your cock” You meek out just enough for him to hear

Sunghoon’s smirk grew wider. “What about if I fill you up? You like the sound of that mhm?”

“Taking everything in you like the good angel you are?” His hands squeezed your cheeks as he messily placed a kiss on your lips. Teeth clashing and saliva dripping as he drilled his cock into your soaped core

The meant to be empty space forever in you was filled by him. Every inch he added into you, you felt. His tip grazing over spots causing you to hold onto his bicep, enjoying the strained bulge it provided.

You whined against his lips but he drank up all the sounds, your body consuming him as he consumed your mind.

Feeling your abdomen shift into a higher sensitivity, suddenly tightening as your fingers dug harder into his bicep, your whines turned into straight moans. “I feel weird again-“ You pointed out as you pulled away from the mess of his lips

“I can feel it angel” Sunghoon chuckled seeing your lips swollen, “Sucking me more into you, like you don’t want to let go of me”

“It’s okay, I promised you could let go this time”

He brought his head next to yours, his lips tickling against your ear, “Come for me angel”

The words shift a gear into your mind. Your body becomes hyper aware of everything. How heavy your breathing was, how the concealed sounds coming from Sunghoon soon slips past to your ears.

And just how pulled apart your pussy was from the new intrusion with the heights given to you.

The dried tears returned as it rimmed around your eyes as your voice cracked in pitch, “I-I” You stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence

Sunghoon pressed down on your stomach as he continued his irregular and sloppy thrust. “Keep tightening around me like that” Your mind became hazy as his thrust became faster—almost as if they were chasing something

“Want me to breed your pussy till you’re leaking of me?” Sunghoon grumbled in a ragged breath, “Have me make sure to fill you up properly until it fucking takes?”

The words made your heart race pick up, your mind not processing or fully understanding the heavier heft meaning behind them. Yet, you aimlessly agreed with an eager nod of your head.

He smirked at your wordless response. Watching how your mouth was full on slacked as he pushed his cock as deep as he psychically could. Bottoming out completely as he let out a guttural groan all while you harshly clenched around him, the warm feel erupting inside of you.

You gasped loudly, your hands grabbing onto him tighter than before, eyes screwed shut as your body voluntarily arched off your bed forcing him out. Too dazed to realize the lack of flesh buried in you as you focused on the dripping sensation falling out.

Sunghoon gawked at you, the evident afterglow basking over you as your chest dropped trying to regulate your breathing, your hand finally loosening as you pushed the warming liquid in you out.

He reached up where your hand rested and noticed the band on your ring finger. Carefully clasping his hand over yours, your heavy eyelids weakly opened seeing his fingers play with yours. You smiled softly but it dropped when he soloed on the purity ring.

Playing with the metal with his fingers, turning it into a circular motion before bringing your finger up for him. Engulfing his mouth around it, his teeth grazed your flesh as he bit the ring and tugged it upwards.

You tried to pull your hand away but his hand held your wrist to keep you in place.

The sudden bare of your finger came into sight when he dropped your hand. His mouth closed until he smiled, your purity ring hanging right in between his rows of teeth.

He felt a tug at his heart seeing the afterglow expression gone but his heart soon grew more active when he watched how your face dropped, eyes widening into pure mortification.

Lightly chuckling, his hands rise to the back of his neck, unclasping his own necklace. Slipping your ring through the bare chain, he lifted it to show it hanging right in the middle.

“You won’t be needing that anymore, would you angel?” The nickname that you once carried in pride now felt forbidden and rotten

Sunghoon chuckled and it rumbled deep from his stomach as he saw your eyes frantically looking at him. He cooed at your state and grasped your face into his hands.

Yet, a soft melody filled your room as your face scrunched hearing him humming the song every angel knew of when they attended their ceremony to receive their purity ring.

Mocking you as you watch him placing the chain back around his neck, your ring now dangling against his chest.

You winced when his hands grabbed your leg and you were suddenly brought into a new position.

The lower half of your body rose high when your knees bent as he flushed your legs to your body, exposing your sore entrance that was messily mixed with your cum and his cum leaking down to your sheets—tainting them.

“You’d give up heaven for me if you had to, won’t you angel?”

——

#enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader

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aleksatia · 20 days ago

Text

🏍Blind date with your ex-husband. You never expected it to be… Sylus.

Inspiration hit me going 100mph down the highway, and I took an unscheduled gas station stop just to write this down. My husband almost divorced me again thinking I’d lost my mind — so in a way, this series is dedicated to him. And to second chances. I know they exist. I’ve lived one. 🥀

An unplanned new series. Five ex-husbands. Same setup, different reactions.

❄️ Zayne | 🎨 Rafayel | ✨Xavier | 🍎 Caleb

CW/TW: Divorce / Post-divorce emotional trauma, Obsessive love, Verbal sparring, Emotional manipulation, Power imbalance (narratively examined), High sensual tension, Knife imagery, Intimacy (consensual, intense), Jealousy / possessiveness, Codependency themes.

Pairing: Sylus x ex-wife!you Genre: Sharp-edged seduction, culinary metaphors and emotional hunger. Power play, slow unraveling, lust laced with history. Lovers to wreckage to something still burning. Summary: You came for a blind date with a private chef. You got Sylus — the man who once built you a panic room and still remembers your spice preferences by scent. In a kitchen simmering with heat, memory, and unresolved desire, the knives aren’t the only things that cut. What starts with dinner ends in something far messier — a taste of the past that still knows how to ruin you sweetly. Word Count: 5.3K 😱

You didn’t come here for romance.

You came because a targeted ad caught you scrolling at 2AM with a glass of cheap wine in one hand and existential dread in the other. Because the food in the photos looked edible and the men in the photos looked even better.

You came because you were starving. Not just for a decent meal — though God knew your fridge contained exactly one expired yogurt and half a lime — but for the kind of attention that didn’t arrive via notifications or come with a tax form.

The invite said blind date with a private chef. Curated flavors. Curated ambiance. Curated man. It sounded ridiculous.

You clicked anyway.

Filled out the form without thinking — somewhere between insomnia and impulse. Ticked the “no dietary restrictions” box, ignored the optional personality quiz, chose a time slot like you were booking a facial.

And now here you were.

You arrived in a dress you hadn’t worn in a year — the one that whispered sin with every breath, that laced too tightly at the waist but made silence a weapon. Your heels were sharp. So were you.

The kitchen looked like it belonged in a Bond villain’s pied-à-terre. All obsidian marble and gold fixtures, veined stone that caught light like a lover’s gaze. One bottle of wine. Open. Breathing.

The thyme was already simmering. So was the question in your throat.

Who the hell was already here?

You didn’t have time to knock — only breathe — before the voice slipped under your skin like a memory.

“Well,” it said, low, warm, amused. “They said come hungry, but I didn’t think you’d show up starving.”

You turned. And there he was.

Sylus.

Of course he was wearing black. Of course the sleeves were rolled. The apron was leather — unnecessary, indulgent, unmistakably him. The knife in his hand glinted, but he wasn’t holding it like a threat. Not yet.

He looked at you like he always did — like he was already inside the next three things you were about to say.

“New shoes?” he asked. “Sound expensive. You finally start taking my advice or just ran out of bad ones?”

Your mouth twitched. You refused to smile.

“I thought they’d match the occasion,” you said coolly. “Should I be flattered or concerned you’ve taken up cosplay as a housewife’s fantasy?”

He chuckled — low, velvet-wrapped steel.

“Careful, kitten,” he said, letting the word linger, soft and edged. “You’re talking to the man holding the knife.”

You moved closer, not because you wanted to, but because your body still remembered what it felt like to be near him. Like standing too close to lightning and pretending the static in your lungs was just the weather.

“I was told there’d be a private chef,” you said, eyeing the cutting board, the herbs, the glint of something rich and red in a copper pan. “Not the King of N109 Zone slumming it in an apron. Just tell me—am I here to eat, or to be served?”

He grinned. Slow. Viciously fond.

“Sweetie, you’re not dinner. You’re dessert. Custom-made. One of one. And I have a very... private sweet tooth”

You hated how easily he said things like that. You hated that part of you still wanted to believe he meant it.

Sylus turned back to the stove like he hadn’t just punched through three layers of self-defense with a compliment.

“Hungry?” he asked, without looking.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

He already knew.

The apron was black linen, embroidered discreetly in a thread so dark it only caught the light when he moved — which he did now, slowly, like he had all the time in the world and none of it belonged to you.

He stepped behind you without a sound, and still, your breath caught like it always did around him — on that invisible hook just beneath your ribs.

“Arms up,” Sylus murmured, voice just behind your ear.

You didn’t move.

“Unless you’d rather get that dress dirty,” he added, fingers already brushing your waist. “Though… I’ve never minded you messy.”

You rolled your eyes — slowly, deliberately — but raised your arms. The fabric slipped over your head like something ceremonial. His hands lingered. Just long enough to feel the heat of him. Just long enough to remind you that you used to belong to this touch.

He tied the knot at the back like it was a game of patience. Like he was daring you to shiver.

“You still stretch time like it matters most in the smallest moments,” you said, forcing your voice steady. “Still insufferably slow.”

He leaned in, not quite touching. His breath traced the nape of your neck.

“I find haste… unsatisfying,” Sylus said, his voice low and deliberate. “You rush only when you have something to fear. Do you?”

You turned your head just slightly, just enough to let him see the cut of your smirk.

“I came here for dinner, not for psychological foreplay.”

“Kitten,” he said, almost sweet, “in our case, I’ve never been able to tell the difference.”

You didn’t answer. You needed to look at something that wasn’t him. Needed a moment to breathe through the heat still clinging to your skin. Your gaze drifted — to the counters, the low golden light, the wine, the perfectly staged mise en place.

And then you saw it.

The cutting board in front of you held a single, glistening eggplant — deep purple, swollen, glossy like forbidden fruit. Obscene in its simplicity. Ridiculous. Erotic.

Absolutely on purpose.

“You’re kidding,” you said. “What is this, some kind of culinary metaphor?”

“Only if you’re thinking like a poet,” he said. “I prefer precision. We’re making kara-kara masala. Northern blend. Stracciatella to finish.”

You blinked.

“Stracciatella. With masala.”

He shrugged — just a twitch of shoulders behind you.

“Fusion is in fashion.”

“And here I thought mass murder was your aesthetic.”

“Multifaceted,” he said, plucking a sprig of burnt orange coriander from a tray. “You never liked simple men.”

Your hand started to move toward the eggplant — slowly, half on instinct.

“Go on,” he said, not looking up. “Take it in both hands. Start working it gently. The size might feel... familiar.”

You froze mid-reach. One eyebrow lifted, sharp and unimpressed.

He smirked — just a flicker.

You picked it up anyway. Deliberately. Fingers curling around the smooth, cool skin. You started to massage it with a bit too much force, more intent than technique — not because you didn’t know better, but because you wanted him to notice.

And he did.

His gaze drifted sideways, jaw tightening just slightly.

“Careful… you keep handling it like that, and I’ll start thinking you missed me.”

You didn’t look at him — just kept working the eggplant, hands slow but deliberate, your fingers tightening ever so slightly.

“Maybe I should’ve practiced on something tougher. Something with... less give. Like your ego. Or whatever alloy you keep your balls in.”

He laughed. Quiet, deep, genuine. The kind of laugh that started in his chest and slid under your skin.

A second later, you felt him behind you — his presence more physical than his touch. You barely registered the space between your bodies closing before his voice curved warm at your neck.

“Here,” he murmured. “Let me show you how to handle it.”

Then — his hands.

Warm. Large. Wrapping around yours, commanding without pressure. His thumbs settled just behind your knuckles, guiding your rhythm with that maddening patience he wore like cologne.

The eggplant turned beneath your fingers like silk on wet marble.

“You want to soften it, not break it,” he whispered, lips almost against your ear. “Press. Rotate. Coax.”

Your throat went dry.

“I’m not making love to it, Sylus.”

“Pity,” he said. “You’re very good with your hands.”

You could feel your pulse in your teeth.

He adjusted your grip again, moving your palms against the vegetable with maddening care.

“See?” he murmured. “It responds better when you take your time.”

You inhaled. Regret. Lust. Something older than both.

“God, you’re insufferable,” you muttered.

“I prefer irresistible.”

He let go just then, too suddenly, and you almost swayed without the brace of him.

But you didn’t turn. Not yet.

Not while your hands still remembered the weight of his.

Behind you, the sound of a flame ticking higher. A pan shifting. Steel over heat. You exhaled through your nose, slowly — and realized you’d been holding that breath since he touched you.

“Still so still,” he murmured behind you. Not mocking. Not quite. “I used to love how you froze when you didn’t know what you wanted more — to kiss me or slap me.”

You turned now. Not quickly — like a tide reversing.

He was slicing the chili. Long, delicate strokes. The knife moved like part of him — silent, certain. His forearms flexed under the rolled sleeves. There was oil on his thumb, catching the low light.

“I always knew what I wanted,” you said. “I just didn’t always want you knowing it.”

He looked up. That look — that look — like he was reading the margins of your thoughts.

“Sweetie,” he said, and the word landed warm and sharp, “I knew anyway.”

He moved toward you again, casual in a way that felt staged. Like choreography he’d written hours ago. Like this scene had already happened in his head.

You didn’t back away. But your pulse did something interesting in your throat.

He held the half-sliced pepper between two fingers and raised it.

“Bite,” he said.

You arched a brow.

“Do I look like I take orders in the kitchen?”

He smiled — slow, indulgent, the way you imagine sinners smile just before the gates close.

“No,” he said. “You look like someone who bites first, regrets later.”

You took it anyway. Just the tip. Just enough to feel the heat bloom.

Sharp. Clean. Electric. Like a warning. Like him.

You blinked against the rush, tongue burning. He watched every flicker of expression on your face like it was a language only he could speak.

“I missed that look,” he said softly.

“What look?”

“The one right before you pretend it didn’t affect you.”

You stepped around him this time, reaching for the wooden pestle. The crushed spices waited — golden, coarse, slightly smoking.

He didn’t stop you. Just turned with you, keeping close, orbiting.

“You really planned this,” you said, voice low now. Less sharp. More dangerous. “This isn’t some booking fluke.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t believe in accidents.”

You pressed the pestle down — slowly. The crunch of coriander and clove under your weight sounded too much like breaking something delicate.

“So why?” you asked. Quiet. Not for drama. Just because you finally had space for the question.

Why here. Why now. Why this.

He didn’t answer. Not yet. Just reached forward — and covered your hand again.

Guided the pressure. Slower. Deeper.

“Because,” he said at last, “I missed watching your hands destroy beautiful things.”

You didn’t pull your hand away. Not at first.

The pestle moved in slow circles under both your palms, spices groaning softly beneath the weight. The smell rose hotter now — deeper, more bitter — cumin surrendering to pressure, coriander cracking, cardamom bleeding out into air that was already too full of memory.

His hands didn’t press. They suggested. But that was always worse.

You turned your wrist, just enough to break the rhythm, just enough to make it yours again. And then you pulled your fingers from under his — deliberately — like slipping silk through a closing door.

“You’re still doing it,” you said, not looking at him.

A pause. Then, lightly — amused, unhurried: “Doing what, kitten?”

You shook your head, pressing down on the mixture harder than you needed to. The pestle slipped slightly; cumin dust flared.

“Controlling things. Guiding. Correcting. Even now. Even with… this.”

A gesture at the bowl, the kitchen, the heat-laced air. At both of you.

Sylus leaned one hip against the marble, arms loose, one finger idly tracing the rim of a copper spice tin.

“I wouldn’t call it control,” he said. “I’d call it… insurance.”

You laughed once — dry.

“Against what?”

“Against disaster,” he said. “Which, in your case, starts with putting cinnamon in curry.”

You turned, this time fully. Crossed your arms, the pestle still warm in your fingers.

“That was once.”

“And your risotto never forgave you.”

“You never let me try again.”

He looked at you. Not sharply. Just… fully. Like he was trying to see something under the words.

“You never asked.”

Silence swelled. Heavy. Smoky.

Then he pushed off the counter and moved back to the stove. The oil was shimmering now in the pan — time for the spices. He tilted the bowl toward you, nodding.

“You pour,” he said. “You’ve earned that much trust.”

You did. Slowly. Watching the crushed spices hit the oil like secrets — sudden, loud, blooming with heat and color.

The scent rose immediately — rich, toasted, complex. A taste of something you didn’t yet understand.

“You always did this,” you said softly, almost without meaning to. “Knew exactly where I’d trip. And stepped in before I even noticed the floor shifting.”

He didn’t answer at first. Just stirred, slow and precise, the spoon carving lazy circles in gold and flame.

Then, not looking at you: “You think I was trying to control you.”

Wry smile. The kind that hurt more than it should’ve.

“I was trying to be the steady thing. So you'd never have to wonder if someone had your back.”

You didn’t expect that.

Didn’t expect the way it sat inside your chest — bitter, like fenugreek. Bright, like ginger. Sharp enough to make you swallow twice.

He turned to face you again, this time holding a spoon toward your mouth — the first taste. A small one. The kind meant to test, not feed.

You met his eyes. Then leaned in.

The flavor hit the back of your throat like memory — rich, warm, almost sweet. And then… that creeping burn. Slow. Claiming.

You held it a second too long before swallowing.

He tasted after you, the way he always did — like he wanted to know exactly what touched your mouth. Then said, lightly:

“It needs more acid.”

You tilted your head.

“So did we.”

The silence that followed wasn’t sharp — it was soft. A stillness you didn’t quite trust.

He didn’t flinch. Just looked at you, eyes unreadable in that way that always made you furious. The way he could feel everything and still reveal nothing.

“I gave you everything,” he said quietly. Not defensive. Not wounded. Just… honest.

You nodded. Once.

“You did.”

He turned away then — not to leave, just to move. To have something to do with his hands. He reached for the mortar again, brushing spice dust from its rim with unnecessary care.

“I would’ve torn the world apart for you,” he said. “You know that.”

And god, you did. That was the problem.

You stepped forward, but didn’t close the space. Just enough to feel the warmth of the stove between you.

“You always gave me the world, Sylus. But sometimes I needed you to give me something smaller.”

He looked over. Brows slightly drawn.

“Smaller?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Like… a Tuesday. A morning. An hour when you weren’t a god, or a ghost, or halfway to a war.”

His eyes darkened — not angry. Just quiet.

“And you think a vineyard, a moonlit opera, a private island… that was me running away?”

“It was love. I know that. But sometimes it felt like you loved me the way men love symbols — not people.”

You let out a breath, slow. Bitter at the edges.

“I didn’t need a palace and a crown. I just needed someone who’d sit with me on the floor.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

Only said, barely above the hum of the stove:

“I didn’t think you'd stay for the floor.”

You met his eyes again.

“I would’ve,” you whispered. “If you'd ever joined me there.”

He turned away without a word, grabbed a knife — something heavier than before — and dropped two ripe mangoes onto the cutting board with a dull, final thud.

“Slice them,” he said, not looking at you. “Thin. Clean. No waste.”

You stared at his back.

He didn’t stop moving. “Or is that too luxurious a task for someone trying to live simply?”

You stepped forward, grabbed the smaller blade — your fingers curling around the handle tighter than necessary. The mango skin was soft, too yielding, and the first cut slipped slightly.

Behind you, he began chopping green chili with mechanical force. Each strike of the knife hit the board like punctuation marks in a fight he hadn’t yet started.

At first, you thought it was your words that hit a nerve — the dig about extravagance, the suggestion that his love had always been too much.

But no. This wasn’t pride. This was something quieter. Sharper. It wasn’t what you’d said that bothered him.

It was that you were here… but not for him.

You kept your eyes on the fruit, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

“You’re jealous,” you said before you could stop yourself. “That I agreed to a blind date.”

His knife didn’t pause. “I’m pissed you thought I wouldn’t know.”

You laughed — one sharp breath through your nose. “Of course you knew. You always know. The algorithm, the wine, the fake-ass bio with ‘seasonal melancholy’ in the personality field. What was it this time — surveillance drones? A wiretap? My fucking grocery receipts?”

“I didn’t need to spy,” he snapped. “You’re not subtle, kitten.”

You spun to face him, knife in hand, juice on your wrist.

“No. I’m not. Not anymore. I left you. A year ago. And I’m still cutting fruit under your shadow.”

He stared at you. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak. You pressed.

“That’s what you want, right? Doesn’t matter where I go or who I let in. You’ll always be there. Uninvited. Unavoidable.”

“I don’t give a damn who you let in,” he said, finally, voice low and cold. “But I care what you let close. I care what lives near my heart. And that’s still you. Whether you like it or not.”

Your knife slipped.

A gasp caught in your throat — not from pain, but from the sting. Quick. Bright. A thin line of red welled up along the pad of your finger.

Before you could pull back, he was already there. He didn’t hesitate. He took your wrist like it belonged to him — like it always had — and brought your hand to his mouth.

You didn’t breathe.

He closed his lips around your fingertip and sucked, slow and deliberate. His eyes never left yours.

The kitchen noise faded. Even the burning oil went quiet. You could feel the press of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth, the soft scrape of his teeth just beneath restraint.

When he let go, your finger was clean. His mouth wasn’t.

Still watching you, he dragged the back of his wrist across his lower lip, catching a smear of blood and mango juice.

“You’re still bleeding,” he said.

“Barely.”

He stepped closer. Too close.

“I always preferred you this way,” he murmured. “Slightly bruised. Still standing.”

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. He looked at you like you were a problem he couldn’t stop solving.

Your voice came low, tight.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

“What, kitten?” He tilted his head. “Caring?”

“Following. Knowing. Controlling.” You threw the knife down on the board. It clanged.

He didn’t flinch. “You think I follow you? You think I watch you like some bored king with a telescope? No. I remember you. That’s worse.”

You swallowed. The silence between you thickened. Then he spoke again — softer this time, but not gentler.

“I rebuilt a vineyard because you smiled at a bottle once. I rerouted cargo ships to get you your favorite fucking soap. I learned your cycle before you tracked it yourself.”

His voice cracked, just a little.

“You think I did all that because I wanted control?”

You didn’t answer.

“I did it,” he said, almost quietly, “because when you smiled — really smiled — it felt like the world shut the fuck up for a second.”

You looked away. Because the worst part was, you remembered those seconds. Too clearly.

He turned back to the stove, threw in the chilies. The oil hissed like it took offense.

“I learned how to breathe around your moods,” he said, almost conversational. “Knew when you were quiet because you were thinking, and when you were quiet because I fucked up. I memorized the way your voice changed when you were lying — not to me, to yourself.”

His hand moved with clean precision, scraping the pan, adding turmeric and something red and earthy.

“I built an entire panic room underneath our bedroom in case someone ever came for you in your sleep. There’s a pulse sensor in the floors, kitten. I tracked your nightmares.”

You gripped the edge of the counter.

He glanced over his shoulder, knife flashing in his hand.

“You think I didn’t know you hated the spotlight? That’s why I stopped inviting you to those parties. Not because I wanted you hidden. Because I wanted you comfortable.”

The knife came down. Fast. Rhythmic. Final.

“So if all that wasn’t enough,” he said, voice low now, “if knowing your scent from a room away, if burning half the galaxy to keep your name out of a single report — wasn’t enough—”

He turned. Eyes sharp. Shoulders squared.

“Then the only thing that makes sense is this — you never loved me.”

Your throat locked.

“What?” you whispered.

His face was unreadable. Not blank — closed.

“That’s the only explanation that fits.” He shrugged. “You loved me, I gave everything, and you still left. So either I was never enough… or you never did.”

Your lips parted. No sound came out at first. Then:

“Sylus, no…” A breath. “You’re wrong.”

He didn’t blink.

“You think I didn’t love you because I didn’t build you a panic room?” you asked softly, almost laughing from the sheer ache of it. “I didn’t have warships or vineyards, Sylus. I had quiet.”

He said nothing.

“I used to go into your closet when you were gone,” you said. “Because it smelled like you. I organized your shirts by the days you wore them most — not by color, by habit.”

You stepped forward. Still soft. Still shaking.

“I kept the bathroom stocked with the toothpaste you liked even though I hated it. I had your old watch cleaned when you forgot it in the study. I rewired the coffee machine after it shorted because I knew you’d never replace it — and I didn’t want you to start your day annoyed. And I adjusted the lighting presets in the bedroom when you were gone — so it wouldn’t be too harsh when you came back late.”

He was still. Completely.

You exhaled, long and thin.

“I didn’t have grand gestures. But I was always there. Folding myself in between your thunder. Whispering in the wake of your fireworks.”

Your voice cracked, barely.

“But your love was so big, so loud, so everything… I started to feel like mine didn’t matter. Like anything I gave would just vanish under the weight of you. Like I wasn’t enough to be seen next to what you were offering.”

A long silence.

And then he moved.

Not walked. Moved. Like gravity finally snapped.

He crossed the space between you in two strides and grabbed your face in both hands, not roughly — but with so much force it felt like claiming. He kissed you — no, devoured you. Mouth to mouth, heat to heat, as if the only way he could convince you mattered was to crush that thought out of your body.

His hands were everywhere and nowhere — in your hair, on your waist, gripping your jaw like you were the first real thing he’d touched in months. And he kissed you like he didn’t care about dinner, or timing, or sense.

He kissed you like apology, like memory, like prayer.

When he finally pulled back — barely — his voice was raw against your mouth.

“Don’t you ever say you weren’t enough.”

Your fingers dug into his shirt.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t. I said I forgot how to believe I was.”

He rested his forehead against yours. Breathing hard.

“Then let me remind you.”

And he kissed you again — slower this time, deeper, like he wasn’t just claiming your mouth, but giving you back every piece of yourself he ever touched.

His kiss didn’t end — it just shifted. Became something else. Slower, darker, hungrier. His fingers slid down your spine, then wrapped around the back of your thigh with unapologetic intent. You felt the moment his hand hit the edge of your garter — the tension in his grip told you he hadn’t expected it.

He broke the kiss. Just barely.

His voice was rough silk.

“You wear lace.” A pause. “That’s not confidence. That’s theater.”

You didn’t blink. Just smirked.

“You should worry if I came without anything under the dress,” you murmured. “Like that time in the restaurant. Third floor. Behind the velvet curtain.”

His nostrils flared. That single second of stillness was the only warning you got before he grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the counter like you weighed nothing.

The marble was cold under your thighs. His palms weren’t.

He stepped between your knees, eyes drinking you in — the slow climb of his gaze from your heels (stilettos, patent black, weapon-grade) up the line of your stockings, where lace met skin with quiet defiance.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Who,” he said, low and deadly, “were you planning to show this to?”

You looked straight at him. Let him see the fire behind your lashes.

“No one,” you said. “It was for me.”

He was quiet for a beat. Then, softer:

“Say stop.”

Instead, you pulled him down to kiss you — the kind that said mine, not maybe. His mouth crashed into yours, teeth catching your lower lip, tongue already tasting salt, sweat, sweetened spice. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers pushing the lace aside with terrifying focus.

You gasped into him. He didn’t flinch.

You felt the low growl in his chest before you heard it. His restraint was crumbling — not from impatience, but from how close it all still lived under his skin.

His breath hitched as your hips rolled against his palm.

Then his hand withdrew — slow, steady — trailing heat across your skin like he didn’t want to take it with him.

He lowered himself without a word, the shift of his weight between your thighs smooth, practiced, inevitable. His hands slid along the backs of your knees, drawing them wider with quiet command.

And then — his mouth.

First one kiss. Then another. Lower. Slower.

The inside of your thigh. The softest skin. The most dangerous intention.

“Sweetie,” he whispered roughly, “I swear to every god I don’t believe in — if you don’t stop me, I’m going to eat you alive and burn dinner.”

Your head fell back, neck exposed, a sound catching in your throat that didn’t quite become a word.

“You promised,” you murmured. “I wasn’t the main course. I’m dessert, remember?”

He bit your thigh, not hard — just a warning.

“Dessert sits and waits.”

And with that, he stepped back. Just enough to drag breath into his lungs. Just enough to return to the pan on the stove.

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice hoarse but firm. “Table service isn’t over yet.”

You stayed. Legs dangling, pulse raging. The air smelled like roasted garlic and want.

He stirred the pan like he hadn’t just had his hand — and tongue — inside you. And then — like nothing had happened — he said:

“You still can’t slice mango properly. You butchered it.”

You scoffed. “Maybe I was emotionally compromised.”

He tossed a pinch of something into the oil, not looking. “You’re always emotionally compromised. It’s your charm.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the wine. Poured it slowly, precisely — like it mattered how the evening tasted.

Pouring with one hand, you slipped off the counter with the other and walked to him — slow, swaying. You held the glass near his mouth.

He didn’t pause what he was doing.

“Is this peace offering or seduction?” he asked, still stirring.

You held the rim to his lips.

“Does it matter?” you whispered.

He drank. Not greedily — just enough to taste.

You set your own glass down, reached for the small bowl of marinated olives you’d prepped earlier without thinking, and picked the darkest one between your fingers. Lifted it toward his mouth.

He opened — slow, lazy — and took it between his teeth. Except he didn’t let go of your fingers.

His tongue flicked, catching your skin. You felt it everywhere.

And still, his other hand kept moving — folding spice into oil, steering the heat, finishing the dish.

Multitasking, you thought. Always had a talent for it.

He chewed. Swallowed.

“You poisoned that, didn’t you?” he asked calmly.

“Only mildly,” you said.

He grinned. “Just enough to keep me wanting more.”

And you laughed.

The first real laugh in months. Loud, open, relaxed. The kind that cracked the shell you hadn’t realized you were still wearing.

He didn’t look at you. Just smiled to himself and said:

“There she is.”

He moved fast once the sauce hit its final note — pan tilted, plated with one elegant sweep, a curl of steam rising from the masala like incense. The stracciatella followed in precise dollops, melting just at the edges. Garnish. A single edible flower, because of course he’d have those stocked.

Two plates. Two glasses. A table already half-set as if this were always meant to happen.

You didn’t have to speak. You moved together — perfectly synchronized without effort. He reached for silverware as you lit the candle. You folded the napkin just as he smoothed the tablecloth. He pulled out the chair, and your body followed like it had never learned to do anything else.

He sat opposite you, hands resting calmly on the table. And then, after a breath, he reached across and took your hand in both of his.

Not possessive. Not pulling. Just… holding.

His thumbs moved slowly over your knuckles, and he looked at you with something rawer than before. Something stripped of bravado, of games, of control.

“If I learn to love you less,” he said quietly, “or softer… will you stay?”

You blinked. The words weren’t what you expected — not from him.

You gave a slow smile. Tilted your head, voice dry but gentle.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever asked,” you said. “Instead of just taking what you decided was already yours.”

His mouth twitched. But he didn’t deny it.

You reached up, free hand brushing across his cheek — the clean line of it, smooth and freshly shaven, like he’d known you’d end up here. Your fingers paused at his jaw. Traced down.

“I don’t want you to love me less,” you said. “I don’t want you to be quieter. Or smaller. Or someone else.”

His eyes closed briefly under your touch. Just for a moment.

“I only want,” you whispered, “that if I ever get lost inside it again… you’ll help me find my way back.”

He opened his eyes.

And the look he gave you — it wasn’t fiery. It wasn’t possessive. It was whole.

He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the inside of your wrist — slow, like reverence. Like ritual.

“Deal,” he said simply.

And then he passed you a fork, as if the world hadn’t just realigned.

You took it, fingers brushing his, and laughed softly.

He raised his glass.

“To second chances,” he said.

You touched your rim to his.

“To not needing them,” you replied.

And together, you ate — the table between you finally quiet, finally shared.

1K notes · View notes

rpwprpwprpwprw · 3 months ago

Text

jeon jungkook fanfics: weekly recommendations edition 💌

hey this is my… new long… very long.. list of recently readings! let me know what you guys think cause this took forever to organize 😭 💋 (also is the letters too small?

jungkook masterlist

🌟 swipe right by @ppersonna (genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers | completed)

summary: after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

my review

🌟 stuck with you by @aajjks (genre: crack, 18+) | ongoing (?)

summary: Imagine being stuck in a room with a walking nightmare who really wants to fuck you.

my review

🌟 what’s your name again? by @solarhysm (smut, oneshot) | completed

summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

my review

🌟 teach me how to love by @kookooluvr (genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments) | pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers | ongoing

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

my review

🌟 webbed heartstrings by @focusonkayjay (genre/Tags: spiderman/ campus heartthrob! jungkook, college student! reader, friends (but not exactly) to lovers, i think they're in a situationship, spiderman au, spiderkook au, angst, fluff) | ongoing

my review

🌟 fuck me up by @jungkoode (genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut with plot, fuck buddies) | ongoing

summary: When your search for affordable NYC housing leads you to apartment 6B, you think you've hit the jackpot. That is, until you realize your new roommate is the guy from that one wild night on January - the one who ruined you for anyone else. Now you're stuck sharing walls with the living embodiment of your worst mistake, and the sexual tension is thick enough to choke on. Between his emotional damage and your trust issues, this arrangement is a disaster waiting to happen. But hey, at least the hate sex is phenomenal.

my review: my review my review

🌟 letting fear run the show by @focusonkayjay (genre/tags: fuckbuddy! jungkook, secret friends with benefits to lovers, angst, fluff, smut) | completed

my review:

🌟 playing the part by @goldenchimmy (genre: smut) | older!jk x reader, age gap | completed

summary: needing money for college, you come across an ad for a female escort. You didn't expect the person posting the ad to be a rich, older man.

my review

🌟 mutt by @letsbangts (genre: smut, angst, friends with benefits au) | fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk | completed

summary: when you realize you can’t teach an old dog new tricks

🌟 answer your phone by @letsbangts (genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au) | fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk | completed

summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

🌟 the jorts by @gukslut (genre: Established Relationship/fluff/smut) | completed

my review

🌟 back and forth by @gukslut (genre: smut/fluff) | completed

my review

🌟 the speedo by @gukslut (genre: fluff/smut) | completed

summary: JK has fallen in love. Too bad the object of his affections thinks he’s a fuckboy who gets blowjobs in women’s locker rooms. How did Jungkook convince his future wife to give him a chance when none of his usual tricks work?

my review

🌟 freak - quency by @gukslut (genre: Smut/fluff, Sub!JK, Rockstar!JK AU, PWP) | completed

🌟 beyond the job by @kooggukk (genre: ?) | girl dad!jk x reader | ongoing

summary: babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

🌟 vampire boy by @smartkookiee (genre: smut/supernatural) | vampire!Jungkook x human!Reader | ongoing

summary: So your boyfriend is a vampire…It’s actually not too different than having a human boyfriend. He is kind and caring and genuinely loves you. He’s just a touch afraid of garlic and he’s kind of cold. Other than that everything is the same and you couldn’t ask for anyone better. You cannot imagine spending your life with anyone else, except… it would be only your life going on. which wasn’t a problem… right

my review

🌟 true love by @lovieku (fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l) | tattoo artist!jk x reader | ongoing?

summary: when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

my review

🌟 get him back by @inthelow (genre: fake relationships trope, kinda growing up womanhood thing, female rage (a LOT of female rage), funny but cringe in the same way, a lot of drama - in a comedy way but also very shitty things - a lot of bad jokes and some angst ) | f!producer/writer reader x idol!jungkook | ongoing

summary: after a hard breakup with who you thought would be the one, the only thing in your mind was a sad playlist of Taylor Swift songs and red wine. But, what happens when your neighbour- who is done of hearing you cry at 2 am in the morning - puts the idea in your head of getting your ex back? but with a good and sweet revenge… of course everything will be easier if you didn’t have any feelings for your ex and if your neighbour wasn’t a superstar idol who doesn’t have a problem at pretending to be your boyfriend to piss off that ex - who also happens to be his ex best friend -. What a mess, right?

my review

🌟 motive by @luvismenu (genre: smut, written) | brother's best friend , e2l , childhood friends

suqmmary: jungkook is your brother’s best friend, someone you’ve grown up with. the two of you have a knack for clashing, always throwing attitude and finding ways to piss each other off. yet, there’s a connection neither of you can ignore.

my review

🌟 sthings attached (to my heart) by @jungkoode (genre: smut, superhero, spider-man au) | spiderkook x reader | ongoing

summary: You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

my review

2K notes · View notes

nadvs · 5 months ago

Text

wish you’d ask me (one-shot)

pairing zach maclaren x female reader

summary you and your friend zach are on your way to a weekend retreat when suddenly, you wake up in the hospital with a concussion. zach is relieved you’re okay, until he realizes that you’re under the impression that he’s your boyfriend.

tags plot-flip of ‘the other zoey’ where reader loses her memory. college setting. friends to lovers. mutual pining. mentioned song is ‘red love’ by dream ivory (zach gives indie soft boy yfm). angst and fluff. no smut. hugs to my zach girlies @juniebugg & @nemesyaaa <3 divider credit.

» masterlist

››› friday

“Uh oh,” you mumble.

“What is it?” Zach asks. His gaze is fixed ahead, the snowy road a stretch of glittering white under the afternoon sun. You bring your phone up closer to your face.

“Chase just texted the group,” you explain. “Apparently, the furnace broke.”

“Uh oh,” he echoes.

“Exactly,” you say with a defeated laugh. “What now? Do we cancel? We can’t be out there all weekend with no heat.”

Zach checks the time on his dashboard to see you have thirty minutes left of the drive to the cabin you rented with your friends. The four of them are already there, waiting for you two.

“Nevermind,” you say. “Esha texted. The only thing broken is Chase’s sense of humor. I’m this close to throwing him outside and locking the door.”

You hold up your hand in a pinching motion.

“And she used this emoji,” you explain with a giggle.

Zach’s eyes drift to you, an endeared smile pulling on his lips.

“Appreciate the demonstration,” he says.

He reaches a red light and forces himself not to stare at you. He’s afraid that one day, his feelings for you will refuse to stay stuck in his heart and he’ll just blurt them out.

The past hour in the car with you has been a dream. Really, any time he spends with you is a dream. You’re usually all together as a group, so he cherishes the rare moments he gets to be alone with you.

He knows admitting his feelings to you comes with the risk of losing your friendship and fracturing the bond you both have in the group. But sometimes, it’s like keeping them in actually physically hurts.

“What’s your favorite emoji?” you ask. “No, wait.” You think back to the texts you’ve exchanged over the many months you’ve been friends. “I already know. It’s the guy running. Your version of saying on my way.”

“It’s efficient,” he replies with a shrug.

“Okay, so, what’s your second favorite emoji?” you say.

Zach laughs heartily and says, “You never run out of questions.”

“Do you mean that in a ‘you’re so much fun’ way,” you ask, “or in a ‘I’m too nice to say it, but shut up’ way?”

“Please don’t shut up,” he says in a rush. “You’re keeping me entertained.”

“It’s the least I can do after you stayed back for me.”

You were the only person in your friend group who had a class you couldn’t miss today. Zach offered to leave for the cabin with you, saying he had an important essay he wanted to finish this morning anyway, while everyone else drove up last night.

He had already finished that essay two days ago.

“It was no problem,” he replies. He means it. Nothing is too difficult for him if it’s for you.

“I’ll still pay you back,” you say. You stifle a yawn, fighting off the fatigue that’s been melting into you for the past hour. “What can I get you? What do you want most in the world?”

Zach chews on his bottom lip, pretending to think, when really, what he wants most in the world is sitting in his passenger seat, the prettiest and kindest girl he’s ever known, her gaze burning into him in his peripheral vision.

“A life-changing cup of hot cocoa,” he replies.

“Big ask, but you got it,” you agree with a laugh. “You can enjoy it in your grandpa pj’s.”

Zach smirks. A few nights ago, on a group video call, you amusedly pointed out the plaid button-up he was wearing in bed.

“They’re comfortable,” he counters.

“They’re still pajamas an old man would wear,” you tease. Your phone buzzes in your lap. “It’s Chase. Esha ruined my prank. Scaring us that we’ll freeze? What kind of prank is that?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Zach laughs.

The six of you met back when you were put together for a group project. You all got along so well that you started hanging out outside of class. Zach has grown to deeply care for everyone in the group. You, especially.

“I’ve been playing my music this whole ride,” you realize. “It’s only fair that you get to choose the songs for the last stretch.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re a good dj.”

“For once in your life, stop being so nice and just play what you want,” you tease. “Since your phone is the GPS, we can keep using mine. Do you have any public playlists?”

He scratches his cheek, nerves filling his chest.

“You’ll make fun of me,” he says.

“Zachary,” you gasp. “When have I ever made fun of you?”

“Like, a minute ago.”

“Other than that.”

“Five minutes ago?”

You laugh again and Zach swears it’s the nicest sound he’s ever heard. Nicer than any song either of you could put on.

“My music is either workout stuff or just… sappy,” he admits.

“I’d expect nothing less,” you respond with a chuckle. “No pressure, but I promise, I won’t judge.”

He breathes a laugh and tells you his username, praying he can keep a straight face if the songs he listens to when he’s thinking about you play.

You tap on the playlist he titled ‘Relaxing’ and sink back in your seat as you gaze out the window. The glass is a little fogged, the world looking like it was dusted with powdered sugar.

The gentle guitar spills out of the speakers as your eyes travel over snow-covered peaks of evergreens that line the road.

Your heart pulls once you hear the song’s first lines, curious if Zach relates to them.

I’m the type of guy, trying not to fight

Not so perfect but I always try to bring the light

He’s easygoing and optimistic – that much is true. But not so perfect? If you had the chance, you’d tell him how perfect he is, over and over again.

Your eyes slowly flutter shut, lulled by the melody. You tell yourself not to daydream about the man sitting next to you when you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same way you do, but it’s easier said than done.

You can’t help it. The longer you’re Zach’s friend, the more you have to yearn for. You’re convinced he has the purest heart you’ve ever known.

But through the conversations you’ve had with your friends about your love lives, you’ve learned that Zach is a romantic, never nervous to pursue a girl he likes. And if he liked you, you’re sure he’d have told you by now.

When you swore Esha and Maggie to secrecy regarding your crush on him, they were confident he feels the same way. You still aren’t.

I don’t wanna feel insecure about a thing

But she makes me feel like I don’t even know what’s happening

Pull me closer and it’s like I forget what was wrong

The thought of pulling Zach closer, of making his insecurities and problems go away makes your stomach twist with warmth.

And then, you’re lying in bed with him, cocooned in a fluffy duvet, your hand on his cheek as you gaze at him. Your heart is full, the air buzzing with love. He worryingly asks you if you slept enough. You nod and he tells you how beautiful you are and you press your lips on his.

Sudden stillness stirs you awake. You meet his sweet blue eyes.

Oh. You fell asleep. And you had a dream about Zach so tender that your heart is still racing, your lips tingling from the kisses he never even gave you.

“Did we make it?” you murmur, tumbling back into reality, grounding yourself in the fact that you’re in a parked car, not a cozy bed.

“Not yet,” Zach says. “I wanted to make a quick stop. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You look through the windshield to see a convenience store sign, the bottom skirted in translucent icicles.

“It’s okay,” you stutter, unbuckling your seatbelt. “It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”

Cold air pricks your cheeks when you step out of the car. Even though Zach has no idea what your subconscious just threw you into, it’s embarrassing to be around him after such an romantic dream.

You round the car and approach the front door, which Zach is holding open for you. In your daze, you realize you forgot your wallet.

“My wallet,” you say in a hush, turning back.

“I’ll cover it,” Zach offers.

But you’re already scurrying to the car. And then, you lose your balance.

.❅❅❅.

The weight in Zach’s stomach is catastrophically heavy.

You’ve been in a confused daze since your fall. And he’s worried sick.

He stands next to you as you sit in bed, blinking slowly. Since he helped pick you up off the icy concrete and drove you to the nearest hospital, you’ve been slowly coming to your senses.

The doctor comes in and asks a few questions. You get the first few right – your full name, your date of birth, your major, your address. All said confidently, even through the fog blocking your mind.

That’s a relief.

But then, you’re not sure what day of the week it is. You can’t tell her what you had for breakfast. And, most confusing of all, when the doctor asks if you know who he is, you say, “Zach. My boyfriend.”

He swallows hard, the word fluttering in his mind. Boyfriend?

The doctor runs a few tests, checking your coordination and reflexes, then offers a sympathetic grimace.

“You have a mild concussion. You’re not showing any serious signs I’m concerned about, but we should do a CT scan just in case.” The doctor looks to Zach. “Can you come with me to help book it?”

He nods, giving you one more worried glance before he trails the doctor out of the room.

After he tucks the appointment card in his wallet, he listens to the doctor’s instructions. Rest. Hydrate. Reduce stress. No screens. Come back if symptoms worsen.

“What if she’s remembering things wrong?” Zach asks. “I… uh, I’m not her boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Her memory will likely come back to her in pieces,” the doctor reassures. “It’s normal that things are jumbled. She’ll be fragile for a bit.”

“What do I do? Is it best for her healing if I play along?”

“The less stress on her brain, the better,” she says. “You can calmly tell her what she has wrong or let her believe the minor, harmless things until she’s herself again. I’m sure she’ll be better soon and you won’t even have to correct her.”

Zach’s chest strains in anxiety, worried that he’ll mess something up. The last thing he wants to do is impede your healing by stressing you out.

When he comes back into the room, your eyes light up in a way they never have for him before. He tries not to let it get to him.

“Hey,” you say lazily, gazing at him with adoration. “Is it booked? Can we go now? We’re so late.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he says softly. “You’re injured.”

You giggle, stretching your arm out. Hesitatingly, Zach steps closer, letting you warmly hold his hand atop the thin blanket. He feels guilty for enjoying it.

“Did you tell them what happened?” you ask.

“Yeah, I – uh, I…” He begins to stammer as you gently run your fingers over his knuckles. “I should update them, actually.”

He pulls away abruptly, taking his phone out, brows furrowed. A simple touch from you is overwhelming enough, let alone when you’re only doing it because you’re concussed and confused.

You watch him text, his expression tense. He’s always like this, so worried about you. You think back to a few days ago, when he was concerned you didn’t get enough sleep as you lazed in bed together.

“Relax,” you say gently. “She said it was mild, right?”

“Yeah.” Zach keeps his eyes on the screen, unsure of how to tell your friends you’re under the impression you’re dating. “You just need to take it easy. You’ll be back to normal soon.”

.❅��❅.

You catch up on the group texts you missed after your fall when you settle in Zach’s car. You’re reading the last message, which is Esha saying something about seeing you soon when Zach turns on the engine.

You can’t quite make out the words. Then you realize Zach’s been trying to talk to you.

“What?” you say.

“You shouldn’t look at a screen,” he says gently.

“Right.” You lower your phone. “I can barely read right now anyway.”

“Can you put your seatbelt on?”

“Yes.” You turn, the motion suddenly making you dizzy. Your eyes pinch shut and you hold your head with a pained sigh.

Zach has never been more upset at himself. He’s supposed to be taking care of you. The doctor called you fragile. He’s already messing up.

“Sorry,” he says. “Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

He leans over, pulling your seatbelt into the buckle. You keep your eyes shut, feeling his forehead brush against your cheek, enjoying the warm, rich fragrance that’s so Zach.

You might not remember everything, but you remember how much you love the way he smells.

“Thanks, baby,” you murmur and plant a kiss on his temple.

Zach’s stomach goes wild with butterflies. Heavy guilt sets in again. He can’t go on like this. It feels wrong to play along.

He pulls back and you look at him past heavy lids.

“We should talk,” he says, “about our friendship.”

He has no idea how to navigate this conversation. The doctor said to correct you calmly. There’s nothing calm about the way his heart is pounding right now.

“We haven’t told them, have we?” you ask. “I can’t remember ever acting like a couple around them. Is that what you mean?”

You think he’s talking about your friendships with the group waiting at the cabin.

This might be the best way to do this.

He’ll let you believe that you’re keeping your relationship under wraps. He’ll avoid any opportunity to be alone with you until your mind is straight again. And eventually, it’ll come to you that you and him aren’t actually together.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We have to act like we’re just friends in front of them.”

“Why’d we decide to do that again?” you ask.

Zach nervously taps his knee.

“Malek had a really bad breakup,” he explains. “We didn’t want to rub it in his face.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. The memory comes to you, choppy but clear enough. “Dumped via text. Poor guy.”

He flashes a relieved smile. It’s reassuring that you remember something that happened a week ago.

“Right,” he says. He puts the car in drive. The sooner he gets to the cabin, the sooner he can stop putting on this act. “We should get going.”

.❅❅❅.

Your friends are quiet and reluctant to come too close when you step into the cabin.

“Guys, I’m fine,” you laugh.

“How are you feeling?” Maggie asks, wide-eyed. “Do you remember me?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s just a headache now.”

“You should sit down,” Zach urges behind you. He puts down the bags he brought in from the car that he refused to let you carry.

“It feels like I’ve been sitting all day,” you say. “Except for the part when I fell.”

“So, we can joke about it?” Chase asks with a grin.

“No,” Zach says. “Too soon.”

You look at him over your shoulder, chuckling.

“I think Zach’s more traumatized than I am,” you say.

“What happened exactly?” Esha asks, waving you in.

You step further into the cabin, struck by the enormous living room windows. They present a stunning view of snowy hills and picturesque cottages under the setting sun.

If it weren’t for the stubborn ache pulsing in your forehead, you’d want to explore more of the cabin. But Zach’s right. You should sit down. That walk from the car was enough exercise. You’re already dizzy again.

“It’s my fault,” Zach replies. “I stopped at some random store and that’s where she fell.”

You meet his eyes, heart breaking at the pained expression on his face. You wish you weren’t putting on a farce right now, because if you could do what you wanted, you’d pull him into a hug.

“It’s not your fault I don’t know how to walk,” you joke.

“You fell in the store?” Chase asks.

“Parking lot,” you say. “To get my wallet. Even though Zach said I didn’t need to. So, technically, it’s on me.”

You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not convinced. He’s blaming himself for this entirely.

You sit down for dinner, downing the water Zach encouraged you to drink, while he catches everyone up on how to help support your healing process.

“How do you know all this?” Maggie asks. “Concussions from playing soccer?”

“I asked the doctor,” he clarifies.

When you’re sure nobody’s looking, you reassuringly squeeze his knee under the table. He tenses up under your touch.

.❅❅❅.

After dinner, you’re bundled up in a blanket on the plush living room couch as flames crackle in the stone fireplace.

Nobody has allowed you to lift a finger. Every chore, down to putting away your dinner plate, has been taken over by one of your friends encouraging you to rest.

Zach’s on the other end of the sectional, tapping his fingers against the armrest. You remember that it’s something he does when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? And why does he have to be so far away? You’re pretending to be just friends, but simply sitting next to you wouldn’t be suspicious, would it?

You know you’re not yourself. Your thoughts are muddy and patchy, but you’re already feeling much better than you did at the hospital because another memory suddenly blooms in your mind.

“Hot cocoa,” you say. Five heads turn to look at you as you point at Zach. “I owe you hot cocoa for staying back to drive me.”

“Yeah,” Zach says, his dimpled grin making your heart skip. “Your memories are coming back.”

You nod with a bright smile. At this moment, as he gazes at you from across the room, he realizes just how much he worries about you, he thinks of the kiss you left on his skin, and he accepts that he was wrong.

He’s not falling for you – he’s already in deep, completely enamored with no hope of pulling himself out.

.❅❅❅.

After you brush your teeth, you pad downstairs to the kitchen before you head to sleep in the bedroom you’re sharing with the girls.

You’re walking back through the dimly lit house when you hear the floorboards creak under someone’s weight. Zach rounds the corner at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hi,” you say sweetly. He towers over you and your eyes drift down to the red and black flannel he’s wearing. “The famous grandpa pj’s.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, happy you remember yet another thing.

His chest twists, conflicted because he enjoys the familiar comfort of being alone with you, but is also anxious in case you still have the wrong idea about the nature of your relationship.

“Proud of me for hydrating?” you ask, holding up the cup of water you just got for yourself.

“Very proud.” He walks past you. “Sleep well.”

You’re confused. It’s unlike him. You remember enough to know he’s typically kind and talkative.

“Hey,” you say, turning to look at him. He meets your gaze, lips slightly parted, visibly tense. “What’s wrong? You don’t really blame yourself, do you? I’m fine.”

His lips curl into a frown. He’s not convinced.

“Please don’t worry,” you continue softly, stepping towards him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. You’re the best friend a concussed girl could have.”

Friend. Does that mean you no longer think he’s your boyfriend? Have you forgotten about the whole thing entirely?

Before he can ask to be sure, he realizes you were being playful with the word, because you quickly look over your shoulder, then unexpectedly pop up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I made sure nobody saw,” you say in an amused whisper. “Good night.”

You rush upstairs, an electric current zipping through you even though you’ve kissed him a million times before.

Zach is standing still in the hallway, heart hammering, blood running hot. He’s lost count of how many times he daydreamed about kissing you. Now, he felt your lips against his for real, and his mind and body are a jumbled mess.

There’s a chance you like him back and now feel uninhibited to offer him the affection you’ve always wanted to give him. Or you’re just confused and you’ll be horrified to learn that he let you believe you’re dating when you were dazed and vulnerable.

If your memory isn’t solid by tomorrow, he’ll have to correct it himself. And he can only hope he won’t ruin your friendship in the process.

››› saturday

You’re walking towards the kitchen, the taste of toothpaste fresh on your tongue. You’re glad you woke up with a much clearer mind. You remember more of yesterday; it’s almost a complete picture in your head.

Zach and Malek are sitting at the breakfast table, cradling mugs of coffee. Zach’s eyes dart away from yours the moment he sees you. It makes your heart sink.

“Hi,” you say to them.

“Morning,” Malek replies.

“Feeling better?” Zach asks.

“Headache’s gone,” you answer. He nods, but doesn’t look at you again.

He’s been acting weird and you’re not sure if it’s just guilt over your fall. The memory of you lying in bed with him a few days ago is so clear. What happened between then and yesterday?

You must have had a fight that you’re forgetting about. You’re sure Zach would be selfless enough to pretend that you’re on good terms while you’re concussed, but he can’t hide that he’s on edge.

“Bad sleep?” you ask, looking down at his drink. “You only drink coffee when you’re desperate.”

His eyes finally find yours again, softening when they do. It’s the early morning and he’s wearing sweats and a hoodie and his dark honey hair is a tousled mess, yet he still looks so handsome and it feels unfair to not be able to kiss him.

“You remember that, too,” he says with relief. “Anything else come up?”

“Nothing that feels important,” you admit with a shrug. Disappointment flashes over his features and you chew on your lip in saddened confusion.

Zach hates seeing the hurt on your face. He needs to have this conversation now and get it over with.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” he asks.

“That sounds nice,” you answer.

“You’re insane,” Malek says. “It’s like the North Pole out there.”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh. “It makes you appreciate being inside even more.”

.❅❅❅.

You stand side-by-side on the snow-covered balcony leading out to the back of the cabin, bundled up in your coats, hats, and mittens.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you whisper, gazing out at the frozen lake hugged by patches of trees.

“It is,” Zach says. His breath comes out in a small puff of fog as he ruminates over how to tell you what he needs to tell you.

“All that ice,” you mumble, “and so many different ways to fall on it.”

He cracks a smile.

“Still too soon to joke about it,” he says.

“Even I don’t get a free pass?” you chuckle.

You reach for his hand, feeling his warmth through your mittens. Zach clears his throat and pulls out of your grasp.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he begins. His cheeks redden. “And please hear me out. I was doing what I thought was–”

The sound of the door sliding open interrupts him. You both look back to see Malek ambling out onto the balcony with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.

“Maybe you guys are onto something,” he says. “We didn’t come all the way out here not to appreciate the views, right?”

He stands between you two and despite the tension, you and Zach share a smile, knowingly both irritated yet amused at your friend’s clueless intrusion.

.❅❅❅.

When you head back inside, everyone else has woken up, loudly chattering in the kitchen. You’re pulled into a conversation with Esha and Maggie while Chase asks Zach to help him with starting the fire.

It’s hard to absorb the words your friends are saying after the way you and Zach left things a few minutes ago.

“Can someone turn on some music?” Maggie eventually asks. “I left my phone upstairs.”

“Sure,” you offer.

“No screens!” Esha shouts.

“It’ll just be for a second,” you laugh. You connect to the speaker. When you realize you have an unfamiliar playlist open, you curiously scroll through the songs.

Zach comes back into the kitchen, dusting off his hands.

You tap on the first track in the playlist. A slow, gentle song buzzes from the living room.

Then, it hits you like a wave.

This song played in his car on the way here. You dozed off listening to it. You woke up from a dream.

A dream.

Zach isn’t your boyfriend. He never was.

The puzzle pieces have finally snapped together, and the picture isn’t pretty.

You stare at him, the realization harsh and unsettling. The possibility of a fight you forgot about had run through your head, but the fact that you were never even together is startling.

Zach can see it immediately, the discomfort on your face. He thought he wanted you to figure it out on your own. Now that you have, he regrets not telling you the truth right away.

“Uh, my… phone is about to die,” you stammer, stopping the song. “Be right back.”

You leave the room, and while everyone else carries on conversation, Zach’s heart is in his stomach. He messed up. Possibly irreversibly.

He trails behind you, whispering your name as you rush up the stairs. You turn to face him once you reach your bedroom, nearly breathless.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, the embarrassment wringing out your insides.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can you sit down? You need to take it easy.”

“Zach,” you assert. He sighs in worry.

“I was about to tell you outside, but then we got interrupted.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me right away?” you say. “I… oh, my God. I kissed you last night.”

Zach rakes his hand through his hair as you step back and exhale in disbelief.

“The doctor said I shouldn’t stress you out,” he explains. “I didn’t want to confuse you or embarrass you–”

“Too late,” you interrupt with a note of sadness.

It’s a punch to Zach’s gut seeing you so upset because of something he did. He’d actually prefer a real punch right now. At least then, he’d know the pain will fade. The guilt filling his chest feels like it’ll be there forever.

“I – I was doing what I thought was best,” he says. “She said you were fragile and it freaked me out and I promise, the last thing I want to do is upset you or mess with your healing.”

You can see that he’s in distress, but so are you. You spilled your heart out to him, you touched and kissed him while under the impression that you shared a love that wasn’t there.

“Please don’t think I’m a creep or something – I just – I honestly didn’t expect that kiss,” he admits. “I would’ve stopped it if I did.”

You have to look away. Why would he have stopped it? Because you weren’t in your right mind? Or because he wouldn’t ever want you to kiss him?

You hope he has it in him to at least admit if he feels anything for you. This is the time to do it after you embarrassed yourself so immensely. You stare down at the floor, silently praying that he’ll reassure you.

Zach’s throat tightens. Seeing you like this makes his shame so overpowering that his eyes start to burn with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. He steps out of the room before you can see him cry. He doesn’t want to make this about him. He wants to give you space.

You’re left standing alone in the silence, your heart cracked right down the middle.

.❅❅❅.

Zach doesn’t let his gaze linger on you for the rest of the day. He’s terrified he’ll have to face his fear of losing you.

What’ll life look like without you? You met and then all of a sudden, you became a ray of light in his world, always able to make him smile, always on his mind. He can’t stomach making you uncomfortable. You looked so disgusted that he went along with a lie.

After dinner, you’re all sitting in the living room and helping Maggie set up a board game. That’s when Zach finally allows himself to look at you.

You’re sitting in front of the fireplace, quietly reading the instructions to yourself, lips moving with the words. Worrisome curiosity gnaws at him, eager to find out if your mind is clear again.

“Does reading still feel weird or is it okay now?” he asks you from across the room.

“Oh – yeah,” you say, caught off guard. You haven’t spoken since your fight this morning. “It’s okay now.”

“Where have you been, MacLaren?” Maggie laughs. “We established she’s back to normal like three hours ago.”

“Do we need to check your head?” Chase jokes.

Zach forces a laugh. He’s been too lost in his thoughts to absorb himself in the conversations happening around him all day. The possibility of making you uncomfortable simply by being in the same room as you is too heavy to ignore at this point.

“Maybe,” he says. “I should probably turn in.”

“What?” Malek shouts. “I was going to kick your ass at… what’s this game called again?”

“You can kick my ass later,” Zach mumbles, standing up. “Sorry, guys.”

“Lame,” Maggie sighs.

You keep your gaze on him as he leaves the room, but his eyes stay on the floor the entire time.

.❅❅❅.

You gently knock on the boys’ bedroom door, listening to your friends’ enthusiastic competition-fuelled conversations echoing from downstairs.

It’s been fifteen minutes since you started the board game and two since you purposely knocked yourself out of it. You excused yourself to take a shower, but your intention was always to come up and talk to Zach. Even though you’d left things so tense, you need to make sure of one thing.

“Yeah?” His voice on the other side of the door is muffled. You step into the dark room, the hallway light spilling in.

“It’s me,” you whisper into the dimness. “Sorry. You’re not sleeping, are you?”

“No. I can’t,” he admits. You hear a mattress creak. A light turns on with a click. Zach’s standing by a lamp, almost looking wounded.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you, nervous as you settle on the edge of one of the beds. He sits on another bed and faces you.

“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you say. “I just had to make sure you know that, okay?”

Zach lets out a shaky sigh. He purses his lips, nodding slowly, and when you see a shine pool over his eyes, you still.

“Thanks,” he breathes. “I hated the idea of you thinking I took advantage of you or something and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around me if you–”

“What? Zach, no. No way.”

When he quietly sniffles, you’re certain he’s holding back tears. You knew he was sensitive, but witnessing him cry over the possibility of making you uncomfortable stings. Especially since he surely felt awkward with you touching him and kissing him, and still played along for you.

He doesn’t deserve to feel like this. You shuffle over, sitting next to him on his bed.

“Listen, I was just really embarrassed,” you say, desperate to console him. “I still am, to be honest.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to be. You were injured.”

“Yeah, but… how would you feel if you ran around kissing me just for me to tell you I never wanted you to?”

Zach’s jaw tenses. Is that what you think? That he doesn't want to kiss you? God, he’d spend all day kissing you if you let him.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” you continue, “and I get why you went along with it. I know you were just looking out for me. Sorry that I got so upset.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“We’ll never agree on this,” you say with a quiet laugh. “We’re good, okay? I’m gonna go take a shower and if you’re up for it, you should go downstairs. I’ll come down after and make you that cocoa I promised.”

Zach laughs, genuine and warm, and it makes your heart feel like it’s floating.

“Cool,” he says.

“Cool,” you echo. You stand up, almost out the door when he stops you.

“Hey, can you…”

“What?” you ask.

“Just… be careful in the shower. Don’t slip.”

“I’ll be fine. Jeez, you fall on your head one time,” you quip. He laughs. And his smile doesn’t fade for a while after you leave the room.

.❅❅❅.

You’ve just washed the soap off your skin and are about to turn the water off when you’re plunged into darkness. Standing in the tub, naked, completely blind.

For a moment, you’re afraid this is a symptom of your concussion. But then you realize the power must have gone out. You feel for the tile wall, pushing the shower curtain to the side, more nervous to fall than you’d normally be.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Zach asks through the door. He’s nearly breathless. As soon as the lights went out, he raced up the stairs in worry, using his phone flashlight as a guide.

“Yeah,” you call. “Did the power go out?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Do you need any help or anything? I can get Esha or Maggie.”

You smile to yourself in the dark, not surprised that he’s being so considerate of your comfort. You feel for the robe you left on the counter and wrap yourself in its warmth, then open the door.

Zach’s standing in the hallway, phone flashlight aimed at the floor, concern etched into his face.

“Do we know what happened?” you ask.

Seeing you fresh out the shower feels oddly vulnerable. This is an intimate state for him to witness you in, but you’re not nervous at all, and it’s reassuring to have the hard proof that you’re not uncomfortable around him.

“I think it’s the wind,” he says. “It must have knocked a power line down.”

“Uh oh,” you reply in same way you did when Chase texted about the furnace breaking. He chuckles. At least he can find comfort in the fact that you really do remember everything.

“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there,” you say. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course.”

The lights are still out when you come downstairs in your pajamas. Your friends are huddled around the fire, amber lights and gray shadows casting over their faces and on the walls. The crescent moon gleams in the cloudy sky past the massive windows.

“Were you at least at the end of your shower?” Esha asks with a defeated laugh.

“Yeah,” you say. “I was just about to get out when the room went dark. I was scared my concussion came back.”

“That’d be great timing,” Esha jokes.

“Right? While I’m naked in a tub,” you laugh, settling on the floor next to her. Zach is glad nobody’s looking at him right now, because his cheeks are burning at the mention of you being naked. “Did anyone message the owner?”

“Yeah,” Maggie says. “He’s not answering, but I don’t know what he could even do. I checked online and the whole grid is out. I think we’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Chase cursed us,” Esha says.

“How is this my fault?” he asks.

“You tempted fate with your stupid joke yesterday,” she replies. “The furnace broke. Now everything is broken. Are you happy?”

“Honestly, thrilled,” he replies. “Pretty cool to have the power to control the weather.”

You continue to chat with your friends, feeling the temperature in the cabin slowly fall. Before you know it, it’s been half an hour and the power still isn’t back on. You’re shaking from the cold.

Zach notices the way you’re curled up, arms wrapped around your legs, surely colder than everyone else since you just showered.

“We should keep the fire going,” he says. “I don’t think the power will come back on any time soon.”

“What happened to the annoying optimism we’ve grown to know and love?” Maggie asks.

“I told you guys, I traumatized him when I fell yesterday,” you say. “I broke my brain and his.”

“No offense, but I probably would’ve laughed my ass off if I saw you fall like that,” Chase jokes.

“That’s why I’m glad I was with Zach,” you retort. He smirks to himself as he builds the fire, hoping it’ll radiate more heat for you soon. “I bet when my memory was messed up, you would’ve convinced me that I owed you money or something.”

“Shit,” Chase says. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Shameless,” Esha mutters. “Guys, I think we’re going to have to sleep here in front of the fire. I bet the bedrooms are freezing.”

“Aw, it’ll be like a real sleepover,” Maggie says excitedly. “Let’s do it.”

You’re all in a fit of laughter as you bring mattresses and pillows and blankets down the stairs, already sure that this is going to be a cherished memory. What happened yesterday has given you a new perspective on life, a realization that something as simple as your memory should be appreciated.

And it’s also made your crush on Zach even deeper. He’s done nothing but look out for you, down to pretending to be your boyfriend to ease you into your healing. Now that the embarrassment has faded, you feel guilty that you were ever upset at him.

The six of you lie in front of the crackling fire, wrapped up in duvets as the wind howls outside. You’re closest to Zach, your back inches away from his chest. As you gaze at the flames, you think about the way his lips felt on yours last night.

No wonder you felt so stunned after kissing him. Your mind didn’t know it was your first kiss, but your body did. The thought that it was also your last kiss makes your stomach sink. He’s had every opportunity to tell you if he likes you. He hasn’t. You’re just a friend to him and nothing more.

“Who wants to bet on when the power’s going to be back on?” Malek asks. You hear the click of him unlocking his phone. “It’s 11:30 now. I don’t…”

He suddenly stops talking.

“Did he die? I’m too tired to turn around and check,” Esha says.

“My ex texted me,” Malek says.

“Don’t fall into the trap, man,” Chase says. “What’s done is done.”

“What’s it say?” Zach asks. He stares at you as you lie in front of him, backlit by the fire.

“She’s apologizing,” Malek says. “She wants to get back together.”

“No,” Maggie says sternly. “She dumped you over text, dude.”

You listen to your friends chat, your eyelids growing heavy. Admittedly, you’re worried you’ll dream of Zach again. Having his heart in a delusion just to wake up and realize it’s not really yours hurts too much.

You shuffle your feet to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Zach.

“Sorry,” you whisper over your shoulder. “Was that your kicking foot?”

“Yeah,” Zach replies. “You just blew my entire season.”

You giggle quietly, tightening your blanket around you. You wish you could hold on to a shred of hope that eventually, your feelings for him will fade. The sinking feeling in your gut tells you that’ll never happen.

.❅❅❅.

A harsh droning pulls you out of your sleep. Your eyes squeeze shut, then flicker open when you realize someone is snoring. Loudly.

“Who is that?” Esha whispers into the pitch dark. The fire must have died down.

“Malek,” Chase mutters. “He sounds like a fucking dragon.”

“Malek,” Esha whines. His snoring suddenly stops and you figure she must have kicked him awake.

You chuckle to yourself, gently shuffling in place. That’s when you realize you’re up against a warm, firm surface, your nose brushing against the comforting fragrance you love so much.

You’re cuddled up to Zach. You pull back an inch, your entire body tense.

“How’d I get here?” you try to joke in a whisper. “Sorry.”

“Stay,” he mumbles sleepily. He pulls you in by your hip, squeezing gently in his daze. Your heart thrums and you obey, giving into what you want most.

››› sunday

You can feel the brightness of the sun behind your eyelids. The air isn’t cold. The furnace is buzzing. The power is back on.

You gain your bearings and slowly sit up. Everyone else is still asleep. You smile in admiration as you look at your sleeping friends. You love them all so much. You turn to see Zach, his lips in a cute pout, and you accept the fact that you love him, too, in a deeper way.

Friends. You’re friends. You’ll keep telling yourself that until your heart believes it.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen, determined to cook a big breakfast for everyone. Five minutes pass before Maggie walks in with a tired smile, commenting that something smells good.

“Sit down,” you invite her. “Coffee? Tea? I’m making a thank-you breakfast.”

“What for?” she asks.

“You all took such good care of me,” you say.

“Yeah, because Zach basically threatened us to when you first got here,” she laughs. “I’ve never seen him so intense. Last night, when the power went out? He booked it upstairs to find you. He’s been so worried about you.”

“Yeah, I think he still feels responsible for me falling,” you say.

She sits up to look over the wall into the hallway to check that the coast is clear, then waves you closer. You turn off the range and sit next to her.

“I think it’s more than that,” she says.

“No,” you say with a small laugh. “No way.”

.❅❅❅.

Zach shuffles awake, exhaling deeply. He drags his hand over the blanket next to him, looking for you before he realizes that’s what he’s doing.

It felt so nice when you turned towards him in a half-asleep daze, nuzzling your head into his chest. It took him a while to fall asleep simply because of how hard his heart was drumming.

He steps over his sleeping friends. Then, he hears a hushed conversation getting louder as he heads down the hallway.

“...think so?” Maggie says.

“No,” you respond. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you and Esha until after we got back, but… I was so out of it at the hospital that I thought he was my boyfriend and… he actually went along with it.”

“What?” she says.

You’re talking about him. He’s about to clear his throat to announce himself and pretend like he hasn’t heard anything, but then he hears your next words.

“I know he didn’t want me acting like that with him, but he tolerated it just so I wouldn’t get freaked out when I realized my memory was messed up,” you confess. “He was so awkward about it after. Trust me. He does not like me back.”

Zach slowly steps back towards the living room and goes up the stairs, trying to absorb what he just heard, trying to make sense of the fact that you not only truly think that he doesn’t want your affection, but also that you’re genuinely disappointed about it.

Back. You don’t think he likes you back.

This might just be the happiest he’s ever felt.

.❅❅❅.

You love how pleased your friends look at the breakfast spread you’ve made for them as they trickle into the kitchen.

“It’s a good thing it was so cold overnight,” you announce. “Nothing in the fridge went bad.”

Zach is the last one to come in and your heart, the traitor, skitters when you meet his striking blue eyes. How long until you can look into those eyes and not think about how it feels to be held by him, how it feels to kiss him?

“Sleep well?” you ask to make casual conversation. He settles in the last empty chair at the table.

“Yeah. My old man pajamas are really toasty,” he says.

You nod, skin buzzing. Does he remember cuddling you in the middle of the night? By the way his eyes linger on you, you think he just might, and in this simple, small moment, you feel a pinch of hope that he feels the same way you do.

You glance up at the clock hanging above the table to see it’s just past nine, leaving less than two hours before check-out. You try to enjoy the last little bit you have with your friends before you split up to clean and leave the cabin the way you found it.

.❅❅❅.

The cabin is spotless, the cars are packed up, and you’re hugging your friends goodbye as light snowflakes gently fall from the white sky.

You’ve been giddy with anticipation at the thought of having an hour and a half drive back to campus with Zach, even though he left such a confusing knot in your chest. Despite everything, he’s still a friend you love to spend time with.

“Have a nice drive!” Chase says as he heads towards Esha’s car, raising his brows at Zach.

After breakfast, Chase had asked him to join you two on the ride home to have more space than he would have sharing a backseat with Malek, but Zach apologized and told him he’d rather not.

When Chase insisted he tell him why, Zach didn’t see any reason to keep it in any longer. He admitted to liking you and said he’d finally tell you on the way home.

“Bold,” Chase had said. “And if she doesn’t like you, too? That’ll be like, the most awkward car ride ever.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Zach replied with a smile.

.❅❅❅.

“Wow,” you say as you drive out onto the main road. “I never made you that hot cocoa, did I?”

“You didn’t,” he says, pretending to be deeply displeased.

“Will you ever forgive me?” you play along.

“I’ll need to do some reflecting first,” Zach replies. You laugh, relieved that you two are joking like old times before this past weekend through you for a loop.

“Fair,” you say. You plug your phone into his speaker system. “Let’s see if I can unlock any other memories. And don’t tell me it’s still too soon to joke about it.”

Zach chuckles, cocking his head.

“I’ll let it slide,” he says. “I woke up in a good mood.”

“You’re basically always in a good mood,” you respond.

Zach can understand why you’d think that. It’s because he’s never been in a bad mood around you. Life is bright and easy and rich when you’re around. And it’s been even richer since he overheard what you said this morning.

“We passed a waterfall while you slept on the way up here,” Zach says. “Would you want to make a stop to check out the view?”

“Yeah,” you agree, pushing away the reminder of what you’d dreamt about during that nap. “Sounds cool.”

.❅❅❅.

Crystal blue water rushes down in an endless torrent, crashing down to the surface with a dull roar. You’re in awe of how ethereal the waterfall is, white mist bubbling over the stream bordered by snowy land. The snow is still falling gently, the atmosphere cool but not cold, as if the earth is apologizing for the windstorm last night.

You and Zach stand at a height behind a railing, his car parked a few feet away on the side of the road. He purposely slowed down so your friends would drive far enough ahead to not notice you’d made a stop.

Now that he’s here, he’s painfully nervous. Worst case scenario, you’re not interested in dating him, and it’ll lead to, like Chase said, the most awkward car ride ever. He’s sure the remaining hour journey back to campus would feel like ten hours if this goes wrong.

But he’s always been optimistic and last night as he fell asleep with you in his arms, he thought back to every moment in your friendship when he had a spark of hope that he had a place in your heart like you do in his.

Over the months he’s known you, he got into the habit of trying to dull the spark, reminding himself of how much he had to lose if you didn’t return his feelings.

Deep down, he always knew he’d eventually give in; he has so much love to give you and the thought of keeping it contained when you might want it was getting harder to bear.

You could break his heart if you don’t want him, but it’d break his heart even more if you do and he doesn’t do anything about it.

“Wow,” you say in a whisper, taking a photo of the waterfall with your phone. “I shouldn’t post this, should I? Our friends might be mad that we didn't include them.”

“I think they’ll understand,” Zach replies. “I told Chase… uh…”

You lower your phone, looking up at him, unable to stifle your smirk because of how cute he looks from the way the breeze has messed up his hair. The road behind you is clear and quiet, the mid-morning sun offering mild warmth.

“You told Chase…?” you say.

Zach licks his lips, his mouth gently opening before he finds the words. He shifts to face you, eyes searching your pretty features, heart in his throat.

“I told him I wanted to be alone with you,” he says. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop this morning, I swear… but I… I do like you. Back.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You look down at the snowy concrete, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I heard you right… right?” Zach mumbles.

“Back,” you repeat softly, finding the bravery to look back up at him. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

A sweet, honeyed smile grows on his face. He tilts his head slightly, looking at you the exact way you’d dreamt he would. How you always wanted him to, but convinced yourself he wouldn’t.

“I didn’t tolerate you acting like we were dating,” he says. “I liked it and I felt bad for liking it because it wasn’t real.”

You mirror his smile, your heart full of love and joy and the comfort that he’s been giving you since the day you met him.

“I was just doing what I always wanted to do,” you confess. His eyes glint with endearment as he brings a hand up to gently cup your face.

“I really enjoyed being your pretend boyfriend,” Zach says, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you look up at him through your lashes. “Can I be your real one now, though?”

You sigh softly, nodding as he stares at you in nothing short of infatuation. He leans closer by a half-inch, silently testing if you��re okay with it.

You close the distance and your lips meet with a sweet, gentle tenderness like they’ve done this before. You pull back, remembering that they have.

“Can we count that as our first kiss?” you say.

“Absolutely,” he chuckles.

››› one week later

You’re stepping out of the kitchen in Zach’s apartment, tightly gripping the tray of six mugs filled with hot cocoa.

“Whoa,” Zach says, quickly standing up from his spot on the floor when you enter the living room. “Careful.”

“Her concussion is gone, man,” Chase says. “You have the test results to prove it. She can handle carrying a tray.”

“He’s helping her because he’s a gentleman,” Esha states. “Do you know what that word means or are you committed to being a caveman forever?”

“Caveman,” he repeats with a grin.

“Don’t give him any,” Esha mutters. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

You laugh as you set the tray down on the coffee table with Zach’s help. You settle in your spot on the couch as Zach sits on the floor in front of you again, tucked in between your legs, the insides of your knees pressed against his shoulders.

“I have to say, I called it,” Maggie says as she gazes between you and Zach with a big smile on her face. “Tell everyone how I called it.”

“You called it,” you say, putting your hands on your boyfriend’s broad shoulders, gently squeezing.

Her eyes dart to Esha and you share a knowing grin. You’d had private conversations about how if you and Zach were always a little obvious, Esha and Chase are the definition of the word.

“Ow,” Malek snips, holding the steaming mug away from his face. “I burned myself.”

“It’s hot cocoa, Malek,” Chase says. “It’s literally in the name.”

“Really good, though,” Malek says, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” you laugh.

The tray is eventually littered with empty mugs and you stand to clear away the mess, your heart glowing with the feeling it always has when you’re surrounded by your friends.

You’re scrubbing a soapy sponge over a mug when you hear Zach’s voice behind you.

“You don’t have to wash anything.”

You look over your shoulder, smiling.

“It’s okay,” you say. He approaches you, hugging you from behind as you stand at the sink, surrounding you in his warmth as your friends talk a room away.

He always enjoyed moments of privacy with you, but since that day by the waterfall, every second with you is more than perfect.

“So?” you say. “Did you get your wish? Was the cocoa life-changing?”

“Ask me again what you asked on the way up to the cabin,” he murmurs. “What I want most in the world.”

“What do you want most–”

“You,” he interrupts. You laugh breathily as he kisses the side of your neck. “I just couldn’t answer honestly the first time you asked. But it was always you.”

You turn the faucet off and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling with a smile on your face as he leaves kisses on your neck and holds you tighter.

It was always him, too.

(the end)

#taking a lil break from my intense dramatic rafe series hehe #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren blurb #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren #drew starkey #the other zoey

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mixingandmelting · 5 months ago

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Secretly Admiring You Artistically

Summary: How he's expressing that you're in his mind through art

a/n: based on scenes in the comics as civilians

Dick: Doodles

He’s dying. Actively decaying in real-time. Why he brought back the notepad from his day job as an officer home or why Haley pulled it out from his bag and gave it to you, he has no idea. To make matters worse, he’s crouching on the ground with both hands covering his very-much burning face as you stand in front of him silently, flipping through each page that’s filled with doodles of you rather than work notes he should’ve been taking for the cases he’s working on.

It isn’t an exaggeration to say his world revolves around you. He’s not ashamed or has any problem expressing how much of a simp he is for you whether it’s to you or everyone both verbally and physically, 24/7. Seriously, he can’t go a day without getting a kiss from you or telling you how much he loves you, no matter the situation. He’s constantly stuck to your side, always smiling from how you showered him with affection back, spoiling him silly to the point he’s thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world. But artistically? He drew a stick figure once during a game of Scribble. Tim was for sure that it was a basketball hanging on a fishing pole. Bruce had told him he can help him get enrolled for art classes.

“So, did the sarge or corporal see any of this yet?”

“No…,” He manages to wheeze out. He needs the ground to swallow him up right now. He still can’t believe this is how his (poorly and very much terribly drawn) doodles of you are discovered and exposed to you of all people. When he hears the notepad being closed shut, he musters all the strength in his mind and body. “...Can I please have my notepad back now?” He knows the answer. And he knows what’s about to happen next. But maybe today he’ll be lucky he’ll get it back-

“Nope.” The way you pop the “p” at the end of the word - of course you wouldn’t. He doesn’t even need to look at you to know the type of grin you have on your face.

With that, he gets up and yells your name as he gets up to chase after your running form. Sure, he’s dreading what exactly you might do with the doodles but his heart is filled with adoration from how he still managed to give you happiness from them. You are the most lovable person in the world to him - he can’t wait to kiss the ever living lights out of you when he gets you.

Jason: Poetry

Oh. Well. This is embarrassing. He rubs the back of his neck, face completely dyed red. You snuggling your face into the crook of his neck while embracing his biceps is fine. In fact, he loves waking up to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. His heart always swells with affection from how you feel so warm and right in his arms while being reminded how you genuinely enjoyed and appreciate him and his presence. The problem was the book lying open on the coffee table next to him. The book filled with romantic poems that he placed on his face after deciding to take a power nap which ended up as a snooze session.

He had been reading each poem, using a sticky note and red pen (because he’s not a heathen to ruin such beautiful and sacred text) to mark which parts or lines reminded him of you the most. Each sticky note had arrows drawn with whatever note he’d make about you, placed on the long-edge of the pages. It was obvious you had found out the contents of the book before joining him on the sofa as you had done the same, only your sticky notes were sticking out from the shorter-edge.

“Jason… What’s wrong?” He quickly turns his head away, covering the lower half of his face. The fact you aren’t even letting go when you usually would makes things worse, your grip tightening instead of getting loose. He doesn’t turn around to know the expression you’re making, feeling you nuzzle into his side.

“...Are you telling Roy or the others about this?”

“What? Hell no. This is only for you and me- why would I want to share it?”

With that, he topples over you and wraps himself around you like a giant, warm teddy bear. On top of relief, he’s filled with childish glee from getting to share something that’ll only be meant between you and him. It gets a chuckle from him when you laugh at how ticklish he makes you as he snuggles into you, eventually making you two fall asleep in each other’s embrace with smiles on your faces.

Tim: Photography

He’s pacing in circles in his room. Then he’s flopping onto his bed and screaming into his pillow. Pacing in the room. And again, screaming into his pillow. He’s been repeating this exact pattern for ten minutes straight now after finding the photo album on his desk. How Stephanie found out about them or why she showed them to you when you stopped by while he was out, he doesn’t know nor want to know. But he’s pretty sure that he's doomed. Best case scenario is break up. Worst case scenario is you choosing to never see him again because you found him creepy.

But, it’s not his fault, okay? He’s really down bad for you. Even when he’s dating you, he keeps finding himself falling for you deeper and deeper to the point he doesn't want to miss a single moment whenever he’s with you. So, every time the two of you went on dates or plainly hung out, he’d take pictures of you. You standing on a hill during a sunset, looking outside with the window down in his car, laughing in front of a bonfire with a marshmallow on a stick in your hands. He can’t imagine life without you. He needs to be with you even if it’s in a photo.

Finally, he gets back up and dejectedly drags his feet to the desk. Might as well put the album away before more people find out about it. Or so he thought when he suddenly freezes at the sight of a note sitting on top of it. There’s only a single sentence in your hand writing, making him do what it says. Having memorized the order of the photos in each album, he immediately finds a photo of him laughing while sitting on top of the hood of his car. It sits adjacent to a photo of you doing the same, making it look like the two of you were laughing while looking at each other. Heart skipping a beat with tears threatening to spill, he doesn’t look away when he grabs his phone and dials your number.

“So? Are we hanging out tonight?”

“No, we’re doing more than that. We’re going to go all out, my treat.”

The way you chuckle does so many wonders to him. With that, he rushes to get ready. Even if he can’t give you the whole world now, he plans on making tonight the best night of your life since there’s no other way for him to express how much he loves you when words can’t cover half of them.

Duke: Notes

He’s an idiot. That’s what he mentally screams to himself when he drops the pile of handwritten notes right in front of you. Not once had he ever mentioned that he had collected all the notes you wrote to him including the ones back before the two of you even got together. All of them were written as your way to cheer him on, secretly giving them to him in every way you possibly can. It’s as if nothing could stop you from passing him a note, whether it’s during class, passing in the hallways, eating lunch, or slipping them in his school bag. There were even times you managed to place them in his textbooks, right where the assigned reading starts.

All those notes you passed to him, he found solace. He feels that he’s being mentally and emotionally supported unconditionally, no matter the circumstances . You don’t know how he cherishes the smiley faces you draw on them or the words you write. Each and every note he treats like they are a piece of you. It led him to keep a few in his pocket, pulling one and reading it to get the extra boost he needs to get through whatever he’s doing even if it’s homework or patrolling the city.

Now here he was, caught red handed. He’s so nervous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, fearing that you might think he’s strange. Immediately he starts to ramble, spewing every excuse in the book while watching you pick the notes that dropped from his pocket off the ground.

“They were growing into a pile inside my bag, so I was kind of in the middle of-”

“Do they work?”

He stops and blinks at you. What do you mean they work? There’s a light blush coloring your cheeks, your hands gently straightening each note to stop them from wrinkling and getting damaged further.

“Are they making you happy?” Oh. Oh. He pulls you into a strong hug, hoping his actions convey how he feels about you. It’s not the notes that’s making him happy- it’s you and your efforts to make sure he is that makes him the happiest man in the world.

Damian: Sketching

No. Just no. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t muster a single word right now. You were teasing him a minute ago about how he must have sketches of you when he refused to show you his notepad he carries around. Little did you know and much to his horror, you were completely right and that exactly was the reason why he didn’t want to show it to you. In fact, he had been finishing another sketch of you before your so-called attempt to sneak up on him. You being you, you kept probing him into showing his sketches and with him being so flustered, he ended up getting the notepad snatched out of his hand leading to the current situation where both of you are standing with the biggest blush to be seen from mankind.

It’s not two sketches he’s drawn too. There’s a whole comic strip he drew in there featuring one of his favorite moments he had with you on top of all the other sketches, some being portraits, some being a compilation of various expressions you make on a daily basis. The way he’s constantly stuck about you has gotten to where Jon had gotten smug at guessing what he was thinking of when Jon found him suddenly grinning to himself. That day, the two of them got grounded by their parents once Damian started to threaten Superboy by getting kryptonite out and the other shot lasers out of his eyes as self defense.

“They’re so beautiful.” Your muttering snaps him back to reality.

Not wasting a second, he grabs his notepad back. Pride damaged and completely panicked by showing a pathetic side to himself to you, he tries to go somewhere, anywhere, away from you. Only to stop when you grab his wrist.

“Damian, you're absolutely talented.”

He mentally groans. He hates how you’re sincere and genuine in these moments. You don’t know how much he treasures you because of this - being open, honest, and accepting of his every being. Worse is you not being aware or truly choosing your battles - it’s how you are; it’s part of your nature. Accepting his loss, he sits back down. He refuses to admit how affected he is by the way you smile with excitement when you pick up his sign. Letting his shoulder brush against yours, the two of you go through his drawings with you commenting on each one while he snarks back though it’s softer and filled with fondness.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #duke thomas #duke thomas x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #tim drake x reader #tim drake #dc signal #red robin dc #red robin

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appleblueberry-pie · 1 year ago

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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

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