#left behind au: b side

[terrahlee-cup]

My hand slipped there’s more now @mousermayhem. This poor kid needs some damn soup and a hug. That is in no way my fault.

Splinter hummed softly, gently running his hand over their guest's scales. He'd walked in to find the turtle thrashing in his sleep and every protective instinct told him to calm the child down. He was glad his sons had, for the most part, stayed wary of the larger turtle. For him, though… he couldn't stop seeing an injured teenager that had been created only to fight.

The turtle's own brothers had been willing to harm him to the point of almost killing him. Had the child ever been treated gently? Had any of them? He was so young, inexperienced and vulnerable in ways Splinter's own children wouldn't be able to understand. It disgusted him that any adult would do things this way. Copied memories were not a true substitute for living. Knowing how to fight in theory did not give these children the muscle memory, the practice, that had been so important for his sons' safety.

A soft whine and a bang brought Splinter out of his thoughts to murmer soothing words to the injured teen. When the turtle's tail stopped whipping against the bedframe, Splinter looked to the notes Donatello had written out earlier that day. The times listed on the paper confirmed Splinter's suspicions that the pain medication was wearing off and leading to the increased distress.

He wasn't surprised to see his son step into the room shortly after his look at the notes. "Oh, hi dad. I didn't expect you to be in here?"

"I unfortunately cannot keep myself from watching over injured teenagers. I have too much experience with them pushing themselves too quickly." Donatello grinned,

"You mean Raph pushing himself too quickly."

"He may be the worst of you four, but you have all done it." His son stuck his tongue out before turning to administer the pain medication.

"I try not to, but I have so much stuff I want to work on! I can't just sit in bed all day. By the way, this stuff isn't going to keep him asleep, so he might wake up soon. Just… so you don't get bit or something."

"I will keep that in mind, thank you."

As it turned out, the child would sleep for another hour. Splinter took the chance to read while he waited. When the turtle did eventually start to stir he stood to fill a glass of water— far enough to avoid any initial panic, but close enough to help if necessary. Thankfully it seemed they needn't have worried, the teen simply yawning and carefully pushing himself into a sitting position. Catching sight of Splinter he tilted his head and blinked, "You're… their dad. Right."

Splinter smiled gently and nodded, "Yes. Now here, have something to drink, I'm sure you're dehydrated after everything that's happened." The turtle took the cup without complaint and Splinter returned to his seat. "May I ask why you chose to come here specifically?"

The teen opened his mouth to reply, only for his head to snap around to watch the door. Splinter raised an eyebrow. Did the child have enhanced hearing? Mikey skid to a stop just outside the door, grinning as he entered the room. "Hey, you're awake! Feeling better?" The other turtle gave a hesitant nod, tail curling around his ankle. Leonardo's entrance was far less happy-go-lucky.

"Mikey we don't know if he's safe-!"

"I can confirm that everything is fine, Leonardo, you have nothing to stress over. Come, sit." Seeing Mikey safe, Leonardo's shoulders sagged in relief as he moved to sit in a chair near his father. Mikey meanwhile began chattering to a mildly alarmed Dark Raph, who seemed unsure of if he should be responding to what was being said. Donatello joined them moments later, checking the computer before he spoke.

"How are you feeling? Any pain? The meds shouldn't be wearing off yet, but we already have a boosted metabolism so I'm not sure about you…" The other teen shrugged,

"I feel fine." After a moment of hesitation, tongue darting out to lick his lips, he continued, "My hip is a bit sore still."

"Yeah that's pretty much to be expected, but I can have one of the bots scan it just in case." 

"The-" Seeing the bot pop up next to him had the turtle jerking back in surprise, eyes warily tracking the machine as it started its scan. Donatello didn't seem to notice, eyes still on the computer as he looked over the images. Mikey, however, whipped out a sketchbook and nudged the other teen until he was looking at art instead of what was happening.

"Everything looks fine, but if you want to walk around at all you should probably wear a brace for now. That way you won't have to worry about anything popping back out of place." Still distracted by Mikey's sketchbook, the other turtle only hummed in reply.

Donatello's deadpan look had Splinter smiling in amusement and shaking his head. "I can make sure he actually heard you later, my son." His son huffed, but rolled the computer chair over to sit with him and Leonardo.

"Oh yeah! Guys, we need to give him a nickname! We can't just keep calling him Dark Raph or whatever if he's sticking around." Mikey seemed excited by the idea, but the other turtle frowned, eyes narrowed.

"You… want me to stay."

"Yeah of course we do! Right, guys?"

"Mikey if he has somewhere to go we can't keep him here. Wait, do you have somewhere to go?" At Leonardo's question the teen eyes skittered away to glare at a the wall.

"No, I don't." Donatello raised an eyeridge,

"Well I'd prefer you stay until you're healed at least. I mean, we can't just let you wander around the apartment, but… yeah."

"Yeah, what Donnie said! C'mon you should stay. Pleaseeee." Dark Raph immediately looked away from Mikey's puppydog eyes, still frowning.

"I- what's the catch. You want me to fight my brothers or some shit?" When all of his sons froze, confusion written across their faces, Splinter stepped in.

"There is no catch. We would not ask you to fight your brothers. If you really feel like you must give us something for letting you stay, any information you have on Darius Dunn's plans would be helpful. However, we are not going to force you to do anything." The teen was still visibly suspicious of their intentions, but he did seem to consider his options. Splinter waited in silence for the turtle's answer. It did not matter how much they wanted to help; if the child felt like a captive they would only be able to do so much.

By the time the teen spoke Mikey was bouncing in place, quickly running low on patience. "I'll… stay. For now." Mikey cheered at the answer,

"Yes! I'm making a celebration dinner bye!" His son was halfway out the door before he'd even finished his sentence.

"He forgot about the nickname thing, didn't he?" 

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

Almost tempted to have past!kl4nce lovers-to-exes-to-acquaintances in c&ai au for the sole hilarity of Keith's exes unionizing

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[evilminji]

I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~

Wrong way Au?

It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.

Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!

Childhood.

Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.

And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.

Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.

Where the FUCK are they Clark?

According to the GPS?

Here.

(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)

Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!

Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?

Was... was that THERE a second ago?

Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.

Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.

And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?

Fuck ™.

Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.

They park.

There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.

Grinning.

Everything grinning.

As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.

They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.

Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.

Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.

Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.

Then they are noticed.

"Cousin!"

One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.

"LETS WRASTLE~!!"

He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.

By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.

Dives into the fray.

Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!

It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.

His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.

By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!

Clark... Clark is so tired.

He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!

They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???

So yeah.... no more road trips.

How was YOUR weekend?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141...

You gave us that amazing chase scene in Dangerous Pursuit....how about for the other 141? You can include Price again of course :) I'd only ask that it be consensual. Thanks!

Oh, the chase scene from Dangerous Pursuit. That was a fun one to write. If any of y'all are interested in that one, you can find it HERE. Let's just say that it involved mud, Price dragging Reader back to the safehouse, and then forcing her into the shower with him. Things...happen. (hehe)

To be fair, there are actual chase scenes with lots of running, and simply walking very fast to maybe escape. Three of the four are more fast walking, while the fourth is more "traditional." Kyle's is the mildest. Simon's is straight up CNC and involves more of a "stalking" aspect. Price's is all about stubborn, bratty Reader and is a Bodyguard AU, and Johnny's is the only genuine "chase" through the woods.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: CNC, Primal, Stalking, knifeplay, brief pussy slapping, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, swearing, Bodyguard AU, arguments, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, secret relationship, spanking, rough kissing, light breeding, possessive behavior

Word Count: 4.7k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“I told your father that I’d take you home.”

“And I want to stay, John.” He sternly stares back, unamused. “What’s the issue?” you shrug. “Why can’t I stay?”

“You know I don’t ask questions.”

“No,” you reply. “You just do as your told.”

John grimaces. “And you do as I tell you.”

“That only works in the bedroom, John,” you hiss, lowering your voice.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

You’re being stubborn, but this event is fun. Most of the time, your father doesn’t bring you along to work banquets or charity parties. When he does, you’re briefly shown about, and then quickly whisked away. This time, you were allowed to stay.

“I’m staying.”

John shakes his head. “Can’t do that. Can’t disobey direct orders from your father.”

The two of you stand in a small side hallway directly left of the main banquet hall. Only a few people loiter about, but they are closer to the main foyer. None of them are giving either of you any attention.

“No,” you retort.

“No?” asks John, slowly.

“I’m. Staying.” You emphasize each word, and when John doesn’t reply, you start to turn away to head back into the banquet hall.

But John has other plans. Grabbing your wrist, he pulls, returning you to the stop you just occupied. He takes a single step into your space, staring intently into your eyes.

“We. Are. Leaving,” he says in the exact same way.

A sharp reply forms on your tongue, ready to be unleashed. John knows you, though, and continues on, interrupting before you can even begin. “Now, be a good girl, and let’s go.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter, yanking your arm out of his grasp.

Pushing past John, you purposefully shoulder-check him before storming down the long hall. There is an emergency exit at the other end. Bursting through it, you nearly trip on the top step, but manage to right yourself at the last second.

John calls your name but you ignore him. It is your only defense. It’s not like you can make it far with him on your tail.

Passing the second landing, you head for the next short flight of stairs, but John is already on you, grabbing your upper arm.

“Wait,” he commands, but you blatantly disregard the order. “Stop!”

Keeping your back to him does nothing. John gives your arm another tug, and this time he puts his strength behind it, shoving you up against the concrete wall. His hips press against yours, his large hand coming to rest beside your head.

“Don’t make this hard. Don’t run.” His voice is sweet, and that stirs a need in your belly.

You do soften, lips parting to receive his. John goes in for the claiming, meeting you with equal softness. Heat rushes to your core. With a hand between your bodies, you palm John through his pants. Rubbing his erection, he groans softly. The sound of it sends a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Then, you squeeze. A little bit harder than you usually would.

“Fuck,” he mutters, breaking the kiss.

It’s enough to slip away—enough for you to break out of his grasp and flee down the stairs. John follows. It isn’t until you’re at the bottom floor and exiting into the parking garage that he catches up.

“Let go of me,” you bite, but John ignores you, grasping your upper arm in a vice grip.

He guides you toward the black SUV the two of you arrived in. John retrieves the key fob and unlocks it, the car’s headlights coming on.

“Get in,” he mutters, opening the rear passenger door.

He unceremoniously shoves you into the backseat.

But he doesn’t shut the door. He doesn’t walk around to the front to get in the driver side.

Instead, John follows in after you, slamming the car door shut behind him.

Your next words are lost as his hand wraps around your throat and he pushes you onto your back. John’s kisses are not sweet. They are rough. Claiming. You open for him, taking each one, your need for him spiking ever higher.

“Told you to behave,” he mutters, hand coming down hard on the inside of your thigh.

You yelp, and then you’re yanked upright into his lap. John adjusts your position, spreading you wide over his thighs.

The front of his pants is open, belt to the side, everything shoved down enough to reveal this thick cock. “You’re going to sit on my cock, and fuck yourself on it. Yeah?”

You stare him down. Unmoving. It’s not that you don’t want to—because you’d fucking love to—but you’re irritated with him. You want to be a bit stubborn in this.

Gripping your thighs, John lifts just enough to push your thong to the side, line you up, and bring you down on his cock. You’re immediately impaled, and you both groan loudly. His hand grabs the back of your neck, fingers lightly digging into your skin.

“Fucking do it, love. Or we’ll sit like this all fucking night.”

Planting your hands against the back of the seat, you start to rock and roll, lifting and coming down again.

“Too slow,” he murmurs. “Fuck yourself.”

Fingers digging into the rough fabric, you angle forward a bit, engage the correct muscles, lightly bouncing on his cock.

“That’s it, love,” groans John. “Just like that.”

You set a steady rhythm, and John releases his hold, placing his hands off to the side, deliberately not touching you. But you notice his fingers flexing, like he itches to do it.

“You can follow direction,” he murmurs.

“Shut the fuck up, John,” you moan, your own pleasure building with every second.

But you need more. It simply isn’t enough. Reaching down, you seek your clit.

“No.” John snags your wrist and raises your hand to eye-level. He brings it to his mouth, sucking your slickness off your fingers. “Not until I fill you with my cum.”

“John,” you whimper.

“After,” he repeats, and you return your hand to the seat behind him.

You want your end, but to find it, you have to give John what he wants. With each upward tilt of your hips, you lightly engage your pelvic floor, squeezing him.

“Fuck,” he groans, elongated the vowel.

You repeat it a few more times until John’s eyelids become slightly heavy. Then, you’re frantic. Desperate. The car might be rocking erratically but you’d hardly care. The need to come is driving you on.

John’s hands go to your thighs, and then they squeeze—hard. Guiding, he meets you thrust for thrust, until all of the control is his, and John has you sealed to him, taking every drop.

The two of you pant in the dark car. There is sweat on your brow and on the back of your neck.

Pushing your dress out of the way, John reveals your pussy and how his cock sits inside you. He’s not looking at where your bodies meet. He’s staring into your eyes, thumb poised at your clit.

“You followed my orders,” he murmurs with the first stroke of his thumb. The one touch sends a rocket of pleasure up your spine. You’ll be gone in seconds. “That’s how it should always be, yeah?” He rubs little circles. Your hips twitch, rocking into his touch.

John is still inside you, and you watch as his cum-slicked cock appears and disappears with each soft rock of your hips.

“My good girl. My good fucking girl.”

Another stroke, and then your fingers dig into his shoulder, back arching, head lolling as the orgasm grips you.

When you come down, John sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking it clean. The next second, he’s lifting you off his cock, placing you into the seat next to him. The car down opens, and he slides out, adjusting his clothes and smoothing his suit jacket.

“Out,” he says.

“What?”

“Out.”

You do and he shuts the door behind you only to open the front passenger door. “Get in.”

The moment you’re in, he shuts it and goes around the front of the car. He hops in, and turns the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life. John backs out, and then the two of you are off.

The moment he clears the parking garage and the first stoplight, he glances in your direction.

“Punishment isn’t over.” He briefly nods toward your dress. “Hike it up. Play with yourself. Use my cum to do it.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The sky above Manchester is slightly overcast and grey.

It might be chilly, but that doesn’t appear to dampen anyone’s mood. The festival clogging the streets is packed full of people. Everyone’s attention is completely absorbed in what is happening around them.

Food and drink stalls line the street, interrupted here and there with stalls selling wares and crafts. There are activities for all ages, and live music on each corner. Everyone around you is enjoying themselves, and yet you are on alert.

A shadow is at your back. He is one with the crowd, moving amongst them like he’s simply one of them.

But you know him for who he is. There is no balaclava. No tactical gear. Just civilian clothes and a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

He comes to a stop one stall over, observing some art, admiring the brushstrokes like he’s actually there to shop and not stalking you.

Simon isn’t here for any of it. Not the food or beer stalls. Not for the trinkets or live music. He is there for you.

And the game is good.

It thrills your blood, churns your heart, makes every nerve fire erratically.

Casually turning away from the flowers you were inspecting, you pretend not to notice Simon. Yet, every time you glance over your shoulder, he appears to have grown a bit closer, matching you almost step for step.

Stepping around a giggling couple, you curve to the right, popping between two stalls and reappearing on the other street. You glance left, seeing no sign of him, and then glance to the right.

As if from nowhere, Simon appears. His arms are crossed over his chest, head tilted slightly to the side in a mocking gesture.

“Fuck,” you whisper, turning around to seek another escape.

If you can make it to the checkpoint without Simon grabbing you, you win.

If not…

You feel the brush of an arm against your own. Stepping to the side, you glance over, only to find Simon. He is standing right there, his body angled in your direction. Every limb and muscle freezes, solidifying you like stone.

It is a temporary paralysis.

You twist away, moving into the crowd.

Simon casually pivots with you, following as you weave through the crowd. He strolls, each movement slow and calculated, as if he knows there is no rush in catching you.

But then again, Simon always wins.

Even with the rules.

With each step, you glance over your shoulder. Simon holds the same distance, still casually strolling with indifference. You pick up the pace, intending to escape, only for you to knock into someone’s shoulder.

“So sorry,” you say quickly.

The older man you’ve run into shrugs, smiling. “No harm done.”

Giving him your best smile, you quickly glance away, seeking Simon.

But Simon is gone. A disappearing phantom.

You spin, gaze scanning the crowd, but you don’t see him. Simon is absent. Or hidden. He could be anywhere.

Taking off, you slip between two stalls to cut through a side street. There are people around but no one is hanging about. They keep moving, minding their own business.

The side street is completely empty.

You keep glancing back, expecting Simon to come up behind you, turning into the alley to pursue.

But he doesn’t come from behind.

He doesn’t come from the front, either.

A hand closes over your mouth, and you’re tugged from the side, dragged beneath a garage door and into a loading area. Simon pushes you against the wall.

“You lose,” he murmurs.

The cigarette is gone, and there is a mischievous glint in his eye. The rules say that if Simon catches you, he can do whatever he wants.

With his body trapping you, Simon withdraws a knife from his boot. He taps the flat edge against your cheek.

“If you scream. I cut. Got it?”

You nod frantically.

The knife disappears, and his hand falls from your mouth. He grabs you by your upper arms, hauling you away from the wall, only to push you down onto a nearby stacks of crates. You’re not bent over completely. Just shoved forward. At Simon’s mercy.

“Spread your legs.” You obediently do so. Simon’s hand roam over your jeans, gliding over ass and thigh. “Take them off.”

Reaching with one hand, you undo the button, and then you’re shoving your jeans down as best you can. When they stick, Simon grabs hold, yanking them down to the floor. You whimper, and Simon lightly slaps your pussy through your underwear.

The knife comes next, slipping underneath the fabric. Simon tugs, and you hear the rip before you feel the bare air against your slick pussy.

“Open your mouth.” You obey, and Simon shoves your underwear into your mouth.

Grabbing your wrists, Simon locks your arms at your back, keeping you stationary. From your advantage points, all you can see are his boots between your legs.

Simon’s thumb parts your pussy, the wet squelch of your arousal loud in the air. He teases your entrance—moves to your clit. Toying with it has you clenching on nothing.

“You love it when I hunt you.” Simon’s thumb disappears, replaced with the head of his cock. He rubs that through your slickness, coating the tip. “Do you feel that?”

The head of his cock starts to push in, and you moan around your underwear.

Simon chuckles, and then he’s shoving forward, forcing every inch of him inside. It is tight, the stretch a little daunting. It always is with him. With the next thrust, your foot slips against the floor, but Simon holds your firmly.

That thrust was just a tease. Using his weight to keep you pinned, Simon fucks you in earnest, skin slapping against skin. You are his toy. To do with as he wishes. To be his in whatever ways he wants.

Those are the rules after all. You’ve been caught. Simon is the one in control.

He grunts above you, not speaking. You’re unable to see him, but you feel the harsh grip of his hands. There are no people around, just the distant sound of music slipping in from underneath the garage door.

The warehouse is completely empty, and knowing Simon, he likely scoped this place out before the two of you arrived here. He enjoys planning ahead. If anything, he was probably herding you to this very spot on purpose.

The fucking bastard.

His thrusts increase—become more erratic. As the winner, your pleasure doesn’t matter. This is about him. Simon stifles a moan, and then he’s grinding forward, pressing himself full against you.

Simon shivers as his release floods him and enters into you. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing, telling him to fill you until you’re dripping.

In the silence of the warehouse, Simon’s labored breathing starts to even out. He doesn’t release your wrists. Instead, he thrusts shallowly a few times, spreading his cum around before withdrawing.

“You did good,” he murmurs. Using the grip on your arms, Simon brings you up to standing, his softening cock pressing against your ass. “Behaved nicely.” He lightly kisses the side of your throat.

Releasing your wrists, his fingers find your lips. You open for him, and Simon removes your underwear from your mouth. It disappears into his pocket.

“Get dressed. And then you’re going to follow me out of here. Calmly. And without fuss.” Your only answer is nod. “You’ll get yours when we leave.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're being difficult," growls Kyle.

"I'm being difficult?" you snap. "How inconvenient for you."

Kyle rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in the air. "I'm not arguing with you about this," he sighs.

"Great,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders like you’re not bothered at all. “Not that interested either."

It earns you a sharp glare that you blatantly ignore.

"We need to cool off," murmurs Kyle, his demeanor softening.

"I agree," you say automatically, starting to turn away from him.

You’re being bratty. It’s not right, but it feels fucking good. Irritation simmers beneath your skin, and you’re itching for an argument.

“Where are you going?” asks Kyle.

"Away from you.”

Kyle mutters something you don’t quite catch, but you don’t turn around. You keep walking, trudging ahead, even when he tries to stop you.

“What are you going?” he asks again.

"You just asked me that. And I answered you.”

“We’re not at home. Where do you think you’re going?”

You shrug. “Why does that matter? You just said we need to cool off.”

“I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone in a public space.”

"And I don't feel like being in your presence at the moment."

Kyle mutters a curse, but you’re already walking away again, aiming for anywhere but beside him.

"No," he says, reaching out to grab your wrist. You pull back at the last second and continue on.

Kyle says your name.

You ignore him.

People are starting to stare—to glance in your direction. It only makes you want to run fast—to move swiftly away from the situation. It’s not that you want to fight. You hate fighting with Kyle. But you’re annoyed, and sometimes having it out in the moment isn’t the best time to sort through an issue.

Kyle moves out in front of you, coming to a stop directly in your path. You side-step, but Kyle matches the movement.

“I swear to God, Kyle,” you growl.

“You’re not leaving my sight,” he replies, voice husky and harsh. “Don’t care how mad you are.”

Your hand rises in a gesture for silence. Biting your own tongue, you swallow back a retort.

Taking a deep breath, you try again. “Move.”

"No."

As you shove past him, Kyle grabs your upper arm, haltering all forward momentum.

“Is this bloke bothering you?”

Putting on your best smile, you turn toward the stranger, intending to reassure him that everything is fine.

"We're good," says Kyle before you even get a word out.

Nope. Now you're beyond annoyed.

The stranger doesn't address Kyle. He doesn’t look at him at all. “I was asking the lady.”

"I'm fine,” you reply slowly. “Thank you."

Kyle’s back straightens, shoulders broadening. “She said she’s fine.”

All you irritation is melting away, pooling at your feet like a rainy puddle. You adore like this. Protective. Assertive. Slightly possessive.

The stranger inclines his head and backs away. Kyle watches him go, his mouth a thin line of annoyance.

Rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off stress, Kyle pivots in your direction, his grim expression switching to a puzzled one.

“I know that look,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What look?" you ask, all innocence.

Whatever Kyle felt before is gone. There is a knowing—nearly sly—smirk twisting at the corner of his mouth.

He takes a small breath, and then leans in a bit, lowering his voice. “You want to do this here?”

"Not here," you shrug. "But it would help work off some this," you gesture vaguely, "irritation."

Kyle’s gaze sweeps up and down your body, admiring every angle. He is not subtle. Each pass of his gaze is deliberate, like you are a shiny gold necklace he wants to purchase.

“You think you deserve it?” he asks, slightly arching an eyebrow. “After running away from me?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan.

Your arm rises, hand poised to push at him, but Kyle knows all your moves. His hand grips your wrist and squeezes, drawing you close.

“Don’t run, love. I’ll always chase you.”

He promptly releases your wrist and you spin on your heel, the irritation rising again, boiling hot in your blood.

It is just you, and your footsteps moving toward escape. People pass by you—but his presence is there, sitting on your heels. A weight you cannot shake off.

The moment you step into a side hall that exits into the main parking garage; Kyle is grabbing your waist. It doesn’t matter that the door he pushes you through says “Employees Only.”

You’re shoved against the wall, his hands roaming, tugging at your clothes. There is nothing soft about this. He is hungry. Wanton. Kyle loves the chase. You resist—but it’s pretend. You enjoy Kyle like this. You enjoy this attention.

Kyle’s lips press to yours, but you do not kiss him back. It earns you the reaction you desire. With an annoyed, grunt, Kyle turns you around and shoves you back against the wall. Your cheek flattens, the cold stone almost biting as Kyle shoves his hand down your pants to play with your pussy.

His finger slides through your slickness, seeking your clit, teasing a bit before retreating.

“I told you I’d always chase you.” He nips at your ear, and then with his other hand, slaps your ass.

You yelp, but all that earns you is Kyle’s hand. Not returning to your ass but to venture into your mouth. Fingers push in, and then your lips suck his digits, tasting your wetness.

“You need to fucking behave or—”

“Excuse me.”

Kyle freezes. He waits a beat, and then turns his head enough to look over his shoulder. With your position, you only see the vague shape of a person.

“You’re not supposed to be back here.”

Kyle clears his throat. “Sorry,” he laughs. “Got a bit turned around. Right, love?”

His fingers are gone, as is his hand.

“Yes,” you answer with a giggle. “Took the wrong door!”

The employee is unimpressed, but only steps to the side next to the open door, lightly extending their arm in a gesture to leave. Kyle promptly places his hand on the small of your back, ushering you forward.

He guides out into the parking garage, and you whirl on him, but Kyle is faster.

“We’re going home,” he murmurs.

“Kyle—”

“Behave,” he coos. “You won’t like your punishment.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

The moon glows high in the sky, casting white light across the tree line in front of you. Johnny is in nothing but a kilt and boots. There is a cheery, almost cheeky grin on his face. You have no idea how the man isn’t cold or even chilly. The cool night air doesn’t appear to bother him at all.

It is just the two of you. No one else is out. The farm is completely asleep.

“I’m gonna show you a piece of my history.”

“Your history?” you ask, shivering.

Johnny instructed you to bring a thin nightdress with you when you came to visit his family farm. Tonight, you’re in it, barefoot and seconds away from shivering. The material is almost translucent, and it clings to your body, hugging every curve and dip. It’s for sleeping. Not for frolicking in the Scottish Highlands at night.

“Aye,” shrugs Johnny. “Family history. Clan, specifically.”

Your cross your arms over your chest to hide your pebbled nipples. “It has to do with the forest?”

He nods. “You know what’s coming up?”

You frown. Shake your head.

“Beltane,” he answers. “It’s all about…coming together in fruitful union.”

“Fruitful union?” you deadpan.

“It’s a time to celebrate,” he replies, turning his back on the dark forest to address you directly. “Passion. Abundance. Vitality.” He pauses. “Conception.”

The back of your neck warms at the word.

“Why are we out here exactly?” you ask, pushing the conversation on. It’s not like it doesn’t intrigue you, but it is chilly.

“All the families in the area would gather their marriable sons and daughters, bring them to this very forest, and they’d…have a race.”

“A race?”

“The men in kilts.” Johnny gestures to himself. “Every bonnie lass in robes.” He gestures to you.

“I’d hardly call this a robe, Johnny.”

He takes a step closer. The heat at the back of your neck intensifies, running up to your cheeks and scorching down your back to pool in your core.

“Women were sent first into the wood with the goal to come out untouched on the other side. The men would be sent in a few minutes after. Chase them down.”

“And what was the purpose of this?” you ask, voice nearly a whisper.

Johnny steps forward. “Marriage.” His gaze drops to your lips.

"I see. And what happened in the woods, exactly?"

Johnny grins, gaze returning to your eyes. "I think you know."

You do know. It isn’t hard to connect the dots.

“Am I to be chased?”

Johnny’s thumb lightly brushes the underside of your bottom lip. “Would you like that?”

You nod.

He leans in, lightly pressing his lips to yours. “Then run.”

You don’t run. You don’t really jog, either. It’s more of a quick walk with an occasional skip into the dark forest. And it is that. Dark. The moment you slip beyond the exterior tree line, you’re swallowed up. The sky is clear with no clouds, and yet only a few slivers of moonlight break the canopy overhead.

You are not made for this. Especially barefoot.

The only thing you can do is to take it slow. And the other side? You didn’t even ask how far it is or in what direction you need to go. But it’s not like you want to be successful. Johnny is somewhere behind you, hunting you down, watching you in the dark.

You are the deer. And he the hunter.

An owl hoots. A twig snaps. Like a startled animal, you spin around, head on a swivel as you scan the darkness. There is nothing. Only you. And the intense hammering of your heart.

You take one step back, the soft ground melting under your foot.

Reaching out, your fingers brush against bark. It is rough and coarse beneath your fingertips. Splaying your hand flat, you press your palm against the trunk of tree beside you.

Its outline is hardly visible.

Just a shape in the dark.

“Found you.”

Johnny’s voice comes as a whisper just over your shoulder. You start, body lurching forward as the adrenaline spikes. His arms grab at your waist, and then the tree is at your back, biting into your skin through the slim fabric.

Johnny’s hand cradles the side of your neck as he goes in for a kiss. It is claiming. Deep. Intense. You open for him eagerly, tasting him, and sucking on his tongue.

He groans in response, his pelvis grinding against you. Even with the kilt you feel his hardness. It is pressing. Insistent.

“You’re mine now,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss, giving breath before stealing it again.

One hand slips underneath the hem of your nightdress. You’re not wearing underwear, and that hand—Johnny’s hand—pushes between your thighs, seeking your wetness. He finds it, moaning softly into your mouth as he glides his fingers back and forth over your pussy, teasing your clit in slow circles.

The cold is distant now. Fuzzy. There is only heat, and your legs part for him, wanting more.

Johnny’s grip tightens, and then he’s drawing back, turning you around and pressing you against the tree again. You brace yourself against the bark. Johnny shoves the nightdress up, exposing your ass to the chilly air.

But then the cold is gone, replaced by his heat.

Johnny cages you in, and then you’re the one who fills the wood with your moan. The head of his cock pushes in, and then Johnny is thrusting. With his hands on your hips to keep you in place, Johnny ruts into you, teeth grazing along your exposed shoulder.

You are unable to move. Unable to do anything but take it.

Each stroke hits deep, sending waves of sensation up to cloud your head. There is a hazy settling over you. Your pussy clenches, and Johnny shivers, his thrusts stuttering slightly. Once it relaxes again, Johnny is right back at it, grunting.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he groans, pace quickening.

It’s slurred a bit.

Reaching behind you, you grasp the back of Johnny’s neck. Turning your head just enough, you find his mouth, seeking your own claiming.

“I’m yours.”

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[hannieween]

spotlight | lights out series

In the aftermath of that night when everything changed, Joshua has to pick up the pieces of his own doing.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader x yoon jeonghan ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, boyfriend joshua, theatre director jeonghan, best friend jeonghan ✮ word count: 16.9k

› 🎧: am pm – jay b ft. whee in | lover – b.i | switch it up – jay b | lights out – sunmi ft. be'o | planet girl – jooyoung, pH-1 | skyline ��� i.m | closer to you – jung kook ♡

→ season one – navi post – read more

› smut warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: descriptions of food, food and alcohol consumption, smut with plot, joshua is toxic and kind of manipulative, multiple sex scenes, sub joshua, dom reader, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, body worshipping, creampies, morning sex, slight exhibitionism, a bit of cuddle fucking, cowgirl, bondage, sensory deprivation, overstimming, edging. pet names: bunny, baby, beautiful (hers) baby, baby boy, handsome (joshua's)

✮ author's note: this story takes up after the city lights series. i highly recommend you check that fic out before diving into this one if you haven't already... or you might be a little bit confused.

✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part i

You clawed at the bedsheets wrapping your body.

Sweat covered your neck as your fingers clenched around the soft fabric of the creamy white bed sheets you were writhing under. You sank the side of your face on the pillow below you, muffling out a short moan.

The side of your body was comfortably lying on your mattress, softly creaking as Joshua moved behind you under the bed sheets, keeping a steady pace on the push and pull he had commenced not two minutes ago.

Your boyfriend was breathing hard on the crook of your neck, moaning softly every time he pushed inside your walls, the front of his body cuddling your back, keeping one of his large hands flat on your tummy to keep you in place for him to fuck you slowly.

One of the things Joshua discovered about himself is that he loved morning sex. In his past relationships, he didn't think too much about it. Granted, he was never big on vanilla sex.

But something about waking up next to you, wholly naked under the bed sheets, your face being the first thing he sees, your soft humming the first thing he hears.

The first few times he woke up next to you as soon as he moved into your apartment, right after he finished touring and recording an album, you were the first one to wake up. And those times you usually left the bed before he woke up, only for him to catch up with you making breakfast.

But now that he had grown familiar with your routine and you with his, he was the one who was waking up before you did.

And Joshua Hong swore he could fall in love twice over.

Somehow he learned to wake up silently, so he wouldn't wake you up in the process, knowing how much of a light-sleeper you were.

Sometimes he would just lie there with his eyes closed, either cuddling you or just lying by your side.

Something would brighten up inside him every time you would unconsciously search for him, either turning over the bedsheets to cuddle him up, lacing your leg with his. Or whenever you were already snuggling him, you would just bump the tip of your nose against him.

It was as if, in your dreams, you would reach out to him, to make him hold you as if you were in your own world, resting peacefully.

But this morning he was just so bundled up in your warmth and in your love that he just couldn't resist himself.

Joshua had to wake you up with kisses on your shoulder to let you know of his intentions, and to his surprise, you immediately caught on, arching your back for him to have easy access to your warm walls.

So there he was, madly in love, drunk on you, pushing your body as he breathed hard on the curve of your neck, getting glimpses of you holding onto the bed sheets every time he blinked dazedly.

"Baby," Joshua half moaned, half sighed as he closed his eyes. "I love you."

The sound those words elicited from you, made him smile, turning his head to litter kisses on your cheek, and down your neck.

"I love you, Josh," you replied, sounding as if trapped in a trance, so dreamy, breathily moaning out his name.

"Yeah?" he sighed. "Are you gonna come with me?" he asked, hearing your increasingly louder moans.

"No, no, not yet," you replied, your fist leaving a bundle of sheets, diving under the bed sheets to meet his hip, holding onto him. "Please, it feels so good.."

"Okay, okay," he whispered hurriedly. "Fuck," he gasped softly, slipping out of your sopping walls by pulling his hips backward.

"Joshua!" you gasped, turning your head to see him, squeezing his eyelids shut in focus.

"Sorry baby," he sighed with a smile, opening one eye first to see your obfuscated face.

"It's okay," you smiled sweetly when you understood that he was close to his climax.

"Turn over for me," he rasped, nodding his head to the pillows.

Joshua experienced something unusual to him, like a lightning bolt piercing his chest when you smiled at him giddily before turning face down on the pillows, knowing what he wanted to do.

The love he felt for you was so intense it could literally cause him pain.

But he got to his knees on the bed, not letting you wait for him any longer, he moved on top of you, each of his knees at the sides of your hips as you instinctively lifted your ass up for him, uncovering your wet pussy for him.

Joshua smiled when something in his mind reminisced on the days you were getting a feel of each other, just two total strangers giving themselves into carnal desire.

And now, he couldn't imagine a life without you.

He brought down a hand on one of your buttcheeks, not hard, but just about enough to get a squeal out of you, followed by a sweet laugh from your part that sent a blissful shudder through his body.

You looked over your shoulder, propping your weight on your elbows to watch him with an excited glint in your eyes. Without more pause, he just grabbed his wet cock, driving it inside you in one go.

It was nearly electric, the feeling of being inside your engulfing warmth, the fluttering, the wetness, you, you, you.

You dropped your face flush into the pillows to muffle a raw cry of pleasure. This position made it so that his cock teased a particular sweet spot in your walls that instantly had you wailing like a mad woman.

"Joshua..." you sighed against the pillows.

His head lolled back slightly, giving himself into the blissful pleasure and desperation to feel you whole, to make you feel good, to hear your voice call out his name in raw cries.

So he just started moving his hips back and forth, pumping his cock inside your warm walls, moaning at just how wet you were.

"Joshua, Joshua..." you continued as he fucked you deeper, the back and forth of his hips made the bed frame creak and budge against the wall of the bedroom, quite evidently telling the new neighbors that it was another one of those mornings.

"I know, baby," he sighed back, grabbing you by the hips to keep your ass up and cunt angled for him, watching his front hit your plump cheeks, the recoil, the dents his fingers were creating as his hands held you steady for him to fuck.

"Oh, god," you rasped loudly against the pillow, your hands balling into fists on the pillowcase. "Oh god, Joshua..."

"Are you close, bunny?" he called in a gasp, groaning in frustration as you shook your head on the pillow.

"Harder," you sighed, lifting your head to cast a look over your shoulder, your eyebrows knitting in a plea as you added. "Please, fuck me harder, Josh."

"We'll get another noise complaint," he grinned, reading the dilemma that set in your furrowed brow.

Joshua couldn't care less about the new neighbors. As soon as they moved in two weeks ago, he knew they would be a problem. When you were notified about the noise complaint, Joshua just knew it was them.

"Hmn?" he changed the pace of the back and forth of his hips on you, fucking you with shallow thrusts. It was not as deep as you preferred, but still good.

You groaned in frustration and buried your face on the pillow again.

"Baby, give me an answer," he laughed heartily. He knew he could continue fucking you slowly just to tease you.

But he was also aching to come.

"Do it," you breathed, nodding with your head before casting another look. "Please, baby, I'm gonna be quick, just, please, I want it harder..."

Joshua smiled at your resolve before commencing to plow on you, retreating his hips and thrusting forward with a hard and fast pace, his front slapping against your ass, causing the recoil to be more prominent, making him moan at the sight.

But your moans, oh, they were the cause for the noise complaints, he was sure. It wasn't the bed frame hammering against the wall, or the loud creaking of the mattress, or even his own moans.

You were wailing now, crying out his name in bliss and pleasure pleading him to never stop, to keep going, to go harder.

And he was just too complacent to not let you have what you want.

"I'm coming, Josh, c-coming!" you cried out, gripping the pillowcase, turning your head so he could see your pretty cum face of your eyebrows knitting, your mouth falling open.

"Fuck," he sighed, his fingers digging into your skin to focus in not changing his pace for his own pleasure, he kept plowing on you as you came undone on his cock, your whiny moans flooding the room paired with the banging on the wall from the other side.

"Josh..." you sighed as you slumped down on the pillow.

"I'm there, oh fuck, baby..." he moaned, ignoring the urgent thumping on the wall. He threw back his head, a long, moany exhale coming out of him as he spilled himself inside you finally, his hands grabbing your hips to fuck you into him languidly until he spilled the last drop of his cum in you.

You were breathing out sweet moans as he stopped thrusting in and out of you slowly and sloppily, hearing the banging on the wall with a sly grin on his face, being accentuated when you groan in utter embarrassment against the pillow.

Joshua sighed in complete joy and adoration when you sneaked a look over your arm, laughing in excitement and shame, partly enjoying the loud exhibition of your love at very early hours in the morning.

"Good morning, baby," he sighed, a small groan spilling along.

"Morning, Josh," you replied cutely.

"Hungry?" he breathed with a lazy grin on his face.

"Umn, yeah," you replied aloofly, sinking into your pillow again to enjoy the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm.

He also needed a minute to catch his breath and for his brain to come down to reality and gather up that the neighbors might take an issue with them again.

But he couldn't care less.

You, on the other hand, were mortified.

"Should we... go talk to them?" you asked with a tiny voice, lying motionless below his body.

"And tell them what?" Joshua sighed a smile, running his hands from your lower back upwards, caressing your skin lovingly.

"That we're sorry!" you gasped, but there was a small giggle that quivered in your tone.

"Sorry about what?!" Joshua protested with a faux scandalized tone. "Sorry that we have a good sex life and they don't?"

"Maybe not that, but, sorry that we're loud might work," you retorted.

"I wasn't loud, you were," Joshua teased.

"Josh!" you sent him a glare. "We both were."

"Fine, fine," Joshua conceded with a breathy chuckle. "I could get soundproof padding for the walls and something for the bed frame so it doesn't bang on the wall," he offered, taking your worry seriously.

"Isn't that going overboard?" you inquired with honest curiosity.

"Yes... but also no," he pondered. "I think it would work, and stop the complaints."

"Mmff," you sighed and turned your face flush against the pillows again.

"Come on, baby," he muttered as he pulled his hips back, thus slipping out of your wet walls.

"Just give me a minute," you mumbled on the pillows.

"I'll be waiting for you in the shower," he slapped your ass teasingly one more time and laughed when your squeal was muffled in the pillow.

Joshua had no issue settling in your apartment. When he got back from touring and from all of the appointments he had outstate, you had already made space for him. And he had spent so many nights there that it already felt like home.

But he was convinced that the homely feeling came from your company.

He was just stepping below the shower head when he felt your arms wrapping around his waist, hugging him from behind. You pressed your cheek on his back.

"Hi baby," he sighed, not caring that it was about two minutes ago that he had said just that.

"Is it my turn to make breakfast?" you muttered, pressing small kisses on his back, between his shoulder blades before reaching out with one arm to get the bottle of shampoo.

"Would you like to get breakfast somewhere?" he asked you as he finished rinsing out the shampoo from his golden brown hair. "We could go to that place you like with the banana pancakes..."

"I mean you gotta let me make breakfast one day," you giggled sweetly as you busied your hands on your hair, your fingers massaging shampoo into your scalp made Joshua turn and pay attention to you.

He had been doing that lately. He paid attention to things you do for yourself, no matter how simple or how meaningful they were. He knew that you had changed the color of the polish in your nails, you trimmed your hair and added some new touches here and there.

But also, you also have gotten into some new habits. Such as trying to fix your sleep, you go to the gym more frequently, not as an on and off thing anymore, you go out with your friends more, and the biggest thing he has noticed, is that you did all of this to hide the sadness you actually felt.

It had been weeks since you last talked with Jeonghan. An event that you weren't to talk about with Joshua yet, but he could see that whatever happened, left you pretty bad.

Joshua knew already that he needed to give you time. And he promised you he would be patient if that was what you needed. He didn't need to know what had happened that time you talked, in truth, he ached to hold you, to make you happy again by whatever means necessary.

"We could also go to the book shop afterwards," Joshua offered with a hollow tone, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible but he knew that you were avoiding going out today.

"Okay, that's how I know you're up to something, Mr. Hong," you smiled as you tilted your head to raise your hair.

"I just want to pamper you, Ms. Hong," he joked, but his tone dropped as he uttered those last two words. "Take you on as many dates as possible."

"Mmn, then you got a date, mister," you replied with a playful grin, sliding your arms on his shoulders and locking your wrists behind his neck. "But you gotta let me make breakfast someday, you know. I'm not a bad cook."

Joshua chuckled, but your lips muffled his laugh as he tried to get back at you. "I know, baby. Just let me take you out today."

"Maybe you're just getting away with doing the dishes," you said with a lower and velvety tone.

He was struck with so much adoration for you when he noticed that you were flirting with him. The corners of your eyes were smiling, and the glint in your eye told him that you were feeling the same too.

"You got me," he whispered, dipping his head to meet your lips.

"Mmn, you little deviant," you muttered sultrily, smiling in his lips.

He felt a hand cup his chin as your tongue touched his lower lip. "Look who's talking," he replied when your other hand roamed all over his body, feeling his lean chest first, sliding down to feel the toned muscle of his abdomen.

"I learned from the best," you replied, circling your hands to his back.

Joshua laughed breathily into your mouth.

You clapped your hands giddily as the plate was set in front of you. There sat a fluffy banana pancake, decorated with berries and honey.

Joshua sat just across your seat on the small round table, he was pretending to type something but in reality he was snapping a photo of you looking at your meal.

The first bite made you sway your body in tiny motions, like a little dance with your fists bundled up at your sides as you chewed on your food merrily.

And he watched you in complete delight. Setting his phone down on the table to take a bite from his own plate. "Good?" he muttered as you took another generous bite with near maddening joy.

Food made you happy, in the month he had been living with you he had learned more and more about your favorite foods and general eating habits. So he knew that sugary breakfasts were accompanied with coffee.

You set your mug and licked your lips. "Amazing," you sighed, resuming to eat more banana pancakes.

"Mm," he nodded with a small pleased smile on his face. "Oh, my mom asked about you," he suddenly remembered.

You almost choked on your mouthful. "Huh?!" you uttered as your round cheeks from the food gave you a comical expression. "W-what? Why? When?"

"I think it was... yesterday actually," he mentioned, thoroughly enjoying your reaction. "I told her we could meet one day for dinner or lunch soon."

You swallowed your bite with a bewildered look in your eyes. "Oh, of course why not," you nodded. "I could cook something, I can make a mean lasagna."

A twist in his stomach in pure fondness made him pause when you took on a proud look for yourself. "Oh yeah?" he teased: "Why haven't I tried your lasagna?"

"Because," you elongated the word. "You, mister, keep me out of the kitchen nearly everyday. You don't let me cook for you."

"That's not true," he retorted with a smirk. "It's not everyday."

"I'm not complaining though," you muttered as you pointed at him with your fork.

"I know you aren't," he chuckled.

"Mmm," you hummed as you took another sip of coffee. "Tell mom she's invited to dinner at our place next friday."

"Will do," he smiled, from both your assertiveness and the cuteness you exhibited suddenly.

"Thanks for breakfast, Josh," you muttered, linking your arm with his, your hand grabbing on his bicep comfortably as you both walked on the sidewalk.

"Don't mention it, beautiful," he smiled at you.

Your eyes were marveling at the sight of the cherry blossoms flanking the street you both walked. The grip of your hand on his bicep shifted and tightened, directing a smile at him as you teased him a bit, using the bulge of his arm as a stress ball.

"You're bulkier," you grinned.

"You've mentioned it," he replied in kind.

"I like it," you said and tilted your head to the side so your temple touched his shoulder briefly.

"All for you, baby."

The giggle that spilled from you echoed in his mind. Joshua slipped into what he felt was something that felt like a daze as you aloofly started to hum a tune that you were improvising on the spot. You did that, he noticed, you hummed a beautiful tune happily for two or three seconds and started it again.

Joshua grabbed your hand from his bicep and laced his fingers with yours to then kiss your knuckles one by one, slowly as you both walked down the street.

The sunlight slipped through the branches of the cherry blossom trees, shining in against your beautiful hair, making your cheeks grow hot and when you looked back at him, you smiled, noticing that he was lost in thought.

"Do you want to make a stop at the book shop?" he nodded his head to the small bookshop on the corner of the street.

You pondered for a second, but Joshua knew what your answer would be from the way you were pouting cutely.

"Maybe an hour," you decided.

Joshua pushed the door open for you. "That's what you said last time."

"But last time they had new titles," you countered and giggled shamefully. "Okay, maybe two hours."

"Take as long as you need, baby," he muttered, letting go of your grasp as you were swiftly taken away by the new shiny covers on display.

Joshua gravitated towards you in the maze of shelves, acting as if he were just as interested in the books surrounding you. But he was more raptured by you, by the wonder in your eyes as you picked up book by book to read the covers, to open them up carefully and peer inside.

He just stuck around you, picking up books to just settle them back to their place without even so much as reading one word. You skirted around the shelves, while he just wavered in the distance.

That was until his eyes caught sight of your pen name on a book. Rows of a glossy cover under a sign that said best seller sat the book that was partly responsible for him being there.

Almost as if the book had a magnetic pull on him, he brought one copy from the shelf. Joshua only recognized the book by the title and obviously your pen name, but he realized that he hadn't really paid attention to the work on the illustrated cover.

He remembers seeing it at some point, but almost beat himself up for not paying more attention to it. The cover was pretty, totally eye-catching, but he knew the contents were much, much more impressive.

Joshua read the final manuscript, he also had to read all of your annotations. But it was the first time in a month after the release that he actually held a copy of your book.

He felt dumb for a second. How didn't he get a copy before?

You were submerged in a different book, rows of shelves and far away from him, swaying your body gently to the soft music playing on the speakers overhead.

The first page of your book started with a dedication. Joshua first saw his name written in it, and his stomach dropped.

To Joshua, my favorite plot twist, my endless inspiration. I love you.

Cursing to himself, he slowly closed his eyes. There was no excuse for missing something like this. Not work, not whatever it was that bothered him. This was important to you, your greatest achievement so far, and you dedicated it to him.

And he is just finding it out. A month later.

He thought of something to say to you, an apology, anything.

But at that moment, his phone buzzed in the pocket of his jacket. Pulling it out he saw flashes of a series of notifications from his new management team.

With a resigned sigh, he opened the messages to read that Midnight Haze had secured a bunch of dates for upcoming concerts the weekend after their first self titled album release.

It was huge for him, but it was instantly overshadowed by the thought of leaving you behind again for several weeks at a time. He had been enjoying his quiet life with you so far, and it amazed him how much it bothered him that his career success was not as important to him anymore.

The problem was not that he would leave you alone. Joshua still had trouble with the thought of you hiding away in your study for weeks, being lonely while he goes away and lives the life of a rockstar.

But what bothered him the most was that he was about to leave you when you were going through something that he knew was taking away your sleep, something that had broken your heart.

Joshua knew that Jeonghan had stopped talking to you some weeks ago. After the night of the threesome, and he very evidently showed how he felt about you, you tried to reach him, to talk about it. But he just said he needed time.

Time went by, and you got sadder. Sometimes he heard you in the middle of the night, crying alone. He would ask you about it but you just said you were alright, you said you also needed time. So Joshua gave you that.

But Joshua could not shake the feeling that he was responsible for it all. Deep down he knew that this mess was caused by everyone involved. Still, he was the one that suggested Jeonghan to get closer to you, to be friends. He was the one that left you for weeks and eventually stopped talking as frequently.

What will happen now when he leaves? He knew he would only carry that guilt with him.

Sometimes he missed when he was just a singer in an independent band that had some shows at local bars every now and then. If that were still the case, he would not have to leave you behind.

"Would you like an autograph, sir?" your cute voice snapped him out of his mental turmoil.

Lifting his head up, he found you standing in front of him, unbeknownst to the messages showing on his phone screen sitting on the palm of his hand. You were looking at the copy of your book in his other hand.

"Allow me to buy the copy first, miss," he replied.

"Oh, no don't do that," you muttered, immediately dropping your act. "I was just joking, you don't have to buy it."

"Why don't you like to have copies of your books at home?" he inquired with genuine curiosity.

You shrugged slowly, fingers tracing shapeless doodles over the spine of a book you picked up. "I like to keep my space separate from my work," you smiled shamefully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know it's silly, but I like to pretend that the writer and I are different people."

Joshua tilted his head to one side. "That is a bit more confusing," he chuckled softly.

"Well, that's because you're famous, you like the public acclamation, the fame," you disputed, snatching the book from his hand and placing it back to where he initially found it. "And I don't."

"I'm not famous," he immediately battled, with a shy smile painting his ears red. "And I don't like fame either."

"Yeah right," you quipped with a grin. "I'd beg to differ."

He stretched an arm and grabbed the copy of your book again. "I'm taking this if you don't mind," he said with a faux serious expression. "And I'm getting that autograph."

"What, no, Josh," you pronounced his name with a giggle. "Don't buy it, we have the manuscript at home."

"You can't sign the manuscript," he rolled his eyes and laughed when you tried to grab the book from him but he just kept it in the air and out of your reach.

"What do you want a signed copy for?" you sent him a glare that only made him laugh harder.

"This one has a pretty cover," he shrugged and turned away from you and started walking to the counter to pay.

"Josh!" you gasped and fell into step behind him.

"I expect my autograph," he said, pulling out his phone to pay.

The cashier sent you a look and then to Joshua, who just dismissively smiled, his nose wrinkling a bit in the process. He could see from the corner of his eye how you just sighed in resignation.

"Bunny," Joshua said as he followed you out of the book shop.

"Yes?" you lifted your eyes to lock with his.

"I... thank you for the book dedication," he muttered, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers with his. "I really appreciate it, baby."

"You don't have to thank me for that, Josh," you giggled sweetly. "That's me literally saying thanks for being there, for helping me."

Joshua paid attention to the way you emphasized that word, paired with the shy smile on your face as your gaze dropped to the ground. What you meant by helping, though, was having sex.

"Do you need help with book two?" he grinned.

"Oh my god, Josh," you muttered, teary eyed in embarrassment.

"I can totally help," he teased some more. "Everyday, if you let me. Anything you want to try baby, I'm game."

"You are helping, Josh," you turned to look over your shoulder and deciding no one was listening to your conversation you added: "You are a very diligent source of inspiration."

"You think, baby?" he pressed, holding the door to the building open for you.

You nodded eagerly in affirmation to his question.

"I take my job seriously," he quipped with a laugh. "Anything to help."

After the day-long date, you came back home feeling exhausted, but ready to get some hours of work before heading to bed. Committed was the relationship you had to your writing, a thing you tried to do at least an hour a day.

So Joshua decided to spend the remainder of the day sitting in the living room area. Guitar sitting in his lap, phone ready to record, he tried to emulate the tune he heard you hum, the tune he replayed the whole evening in his head.

Before he knew it, he had recorded a good chunk of melody. He replayed it once, deciding it was good material he sent it right over to Jihoon, presenting it as something they can work on for a ballad.

Content with his day's productivity, he decided to call it a day, being that it was already nightfall and he felt rightfully sleepy.

So he made his way to the place he knew he would find you, happily buried in work. Pushing the door open he found you working on your desk, eyes glued to one of your monitors, typing fast on the keyboard.

He saw that you were wearing your headphones so he went unnoticed completely. Suppressing a small smile, he walked closer to you, being careful as to not startle you as he had done several times in the past.

"Baby," he whispered as he placed his hands on your shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek once you slid a hand on top of his.

"Mmn?" you removed your headphones. "What's that?"

"I'm heading to bed," he whispered before pressing another kiss on your cheek. "Wait for you there?"

"Yeah, sure," you turned your head to plant a kiss on his lips. "I'll be there in five."

"If you take longer, I'll come for you," he said, eliciting a chuckle from you.

"That sounds fun," you whispered, pressing your lips against his smirk.

He kissed you one more time before backing away from you and getting ready for bed. His routine was short, consisting of rinsing his face, brushing his teeth and undressing himself.

When he was already lying in the bed, he heard you come in exactly five minutes later, which made Joshua turn his head to look at you curiously.

Noticing that he was still awake and with his gaze trained on you, you began to undress, reaching out for your sleeping clothes in the drawer. You had taken to using one of his t-shirts, which was a few sizes too big for you.

Turning off the bedside lamp, you climbed up the high bed, crawling to the space you had assigned for yourself, but as you slipped beneath the sheets, you immediately attached to his side.

Joshua chuckled softly, wrapping one arm around you as you snuggled to him, fitting your face on the curve of his neck.

"You didn't take long," he pointed, thinking of the times you worked past midnight.

"I'll continue tomorrow," you sighed a yawn. "I want to cuddle with you, is that okay?"

"Of course, baby," he whispered, bringing his other arm to hug you snuggly. "Always."

"Thank you for today, Josh," you muttered sweetly, your hand had started to rub shapeless figures on his chest. "I enjoyed every moment of it."

"You don't have to thank me, bunny," he replied sleepily. "I want to give you more days like this. For the rest of your life if you let me."

That made you giggle in joy. "Be ready to hear me thank you every single day, then."

"Why?"

"Because you make me happy," you muttered, your voice had turned into a tiny coo.

"You make me happy too, baby," he turned his head on the pillow to look at you. "That's the point, right?"

"Mmn, yeah but I want to say thanks anyway," you laughed, realizing how stupid the argument was.

But Joshua smiled, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "I love you," he muttered, caressing your arm with his hand. "I just want to make you happy."

"I love you too," you whispered, sighing a hum. "Let's make each other happy, then."

Joshua was unsure as to how he fell asleep, or how long after he drifted into a peaceful dream. He woke up to distant noises of water boiling, a sizzling sound and then the clinking of metal against ceramic glass.

The bed was cold on your side, when he outstretched his arm he found it empty. Instantly, he knew it was one of those restless nights. Even if you were trying to fix your sleeping habits, you still suffered some insomniac nights.

He waited for some minutes, and then got out of bed, fishing out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that he had discarded earlier and left on top of the armchair in the room and put them on.

You were sitting on the couch by the window. He noticed that you had drawn the blinds to get the lighting from the restless city outside.

You didn't notice him right away, so he also could tell that you were crying as your teary eyes panned to the hall and found him.

His heart dropped. "You're okay, bunny?" he asked wearily.

Sitting down on the couch beside you, he kept some distance from you, giving you space in case that was you needed.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you smiled, pressing your lips together.

He nodded slowly, averting his gaze to his lap. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered, holding in his breath.

This would probably be the time, he thought. He wished you would finally air out your troubles with him. It was the third time he had woken up to your cries, he silently counted. And he suspected that you were hiding from him to let your feelings out, suspected you weren't sharing your feelings with him to avoid more conflict.

"I'm just thinking, Josh," you said with a dismissive tone. "Everything's okay."

You took three big gulps from the tea that you drink to help you sleep. Grimacing at the taste you put it back to the coffee table and shifted on the couch closer to Joshua until your bodies touched.

"What do you think about?" he asked gently, the weariness coating his tone was still there.

A long sigh made your chest rise and fall, more tears kept rolling down your cheeks and you shook your head, signaling your reluctance to talk about it.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No, I..." you choked on your words and before he could move, you took his hand. "I'm just being a bit emotional. That's it."

"You can trust me," he whispered, raising his eyes to find your grief stricken face.

"I know," you replied in kind. "I know, Josh."

You picked up your tears with the pad of your thumb, sniffing quietly as you seemed to calm yourself down. But you wouldn't make eye contact with him, your hand held his tightly, but it seemed that you weren't opening up just yet.

"Baby..." he whispered, following your eyes. "I want you to talk to me. I'm waiting for you night and day to open up but you just won't. Do you think that I don't know what you've been going through?"

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion but they quickly went lax, coming to a realization that he knew. All along he silently bore witness to your pain and your mourning to your friendship with Jeonghan.

"I've heard you cry before too," he confessed, a painful jab making him shudder. "I know you told me to give you space but you don't have to. I think that you will feel better when you talk to Jeonghan and whatever you decide to do... I'm ready."

"What are you saying?" you croaked, sniffing loudly and bringing up a hand to wipe your tears.

"I'm... saying that if you–," a strangled sound interrupted him, and he had to pause to gather his thoughts, drawing a big gulp of air as he sighed the next words: "Whatever you need to do when you talk to him, I'm ready... to take it."

"What?!" you gasped with a bewilderment that almost made you stop your tears. "You're not taking anything, Joshua. Who do you think I am?"

"I'm just saying, whatever you feel like you have to do, I'll understand…. I just want you to be happy again," his eyes inevitably rolling upward, trying to resist the angry tears stinging his eyes.

"Have you lost your mind, Joshua?" you asked, watching him nearly vibrate in what you assume was a very undesirable remorse.

"I think so, yes," he said slowly, now looking at you. "It kills me to wake up and hear you crying in the middle of the night. I hate that you pretend to be alright instead of trusting me with what's hurting you."

"What hurts me hurts you," you said in a weak tone, crossing your arms over your chest in what he recognized as a mechanism to hold yourself together.

"Is that why you won't open up to me? Because you don't want to hurt me?"

You slowly nodded with your head, biting your lip to make it stop quivering, though it was futile.

"I just want you to trust me," Joshua whispered, and your eyes widened when his tone faltered. "It's the only thing I care about."

"Joshua, I..." you started, but you were at a loss of words.

"We can't keep doing this to each other," he whispered, shuddering under the stress of finally being vulnerable with you. "I want to help you but you need to let me in."

"I don't want this to affect us," you replied with an air of surrender, it was quite evident that it was too late for that.

At that, he knew he had nothing to say. He had caused all this, no matter how much he wanted you to open up, he was being a hypocrite. His attempt to make you trust him with this fell completely disingenuous since he was also keeping things from you.

He shifted on his seat, opening his arms to you. "Come here," he whispered and you promptly crawled wight into his embrace, crying freely on his shoulder. "I just don't want you to go through this on your own, baby," he said shakily, swallowing his own guilt-ridden tears. "But if it's what you want I get it. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," you replied in a tiny voice.

"No, don't be," he muttered. "I know this is hard for you... this is hard for me too, but it shouldn't have to be, baby. We are together to lift each other up, aren't we? No matter what tries to bring us down."

Joshua could feel your fingers clinging onto his shoulders, your face pressed flush against his chest as you sobbed and cried hard, harder than he had heard you ever.

"All I'm trying to say is... trust that I won't walk away from you. Not because of this, not ever," Joshua gulped, a hand finding the back of your head to hug you tightly. "I love you and I trust you."

"I love you too... and I trust you, Joshua," you replied with a hoarse tone from crying. "But, how can I tell you about this? I don't know how I would feel the roles were reversed. If you told me you felt something for someone else... I don't know how I'd react."

Joshua had been over this scenario on his head multiple times. "It's different," he said with an air of decisiveness. "I don't think this is as straightforward, baby."

You felt him press his lips on the crown of your head for a long minute.

"But more importantly... you can tell me anything, baby," he muttered, closing his eyes slowly as he sighed. "Even if it's about Jeonghan."

There was a pause, between him waiting for your answer patiently and you gathering your thoughts. This was definitely not something you had expected from your boyfriend. Granted, he had been extremely reasonable about your feelings for Jeonghan.

"I just want him to know that I'm sorry," you sobbed quietly, holding onto his shirt.

Joshua felt the small wet patches on his chest from your tears, he held you tighter against his body, when the painful jab of remorse returned.

"Have you tried talking to him?" he pried with a fear pulsing in his throat.

"Last time I tried he told me he's not ready," you replied and your tone weakened. "He stopped replying to my texts two weeks ago."

His arms wrapped your body tighter. "I'm sorry, bunny," he replied with honesty.

But a part of him burned with rage. He wasn't in the least bit pleased that Jeonghan had feelings for you, but on top of that he hated that he was making you suffer. Joshua understood that Jeonghan needed time to think, since this was a very complicated situation they were all embroidered in.

Still, he hated to see you cry.

"Maybe I can talk to him," he offered softly, resting his cheek on the crown of your head, his arms still cradling your body.

In all this time, Jeonghan and Joshua had not spoken, nor crossed paths. The reason why in reality was that Joshua had nothing to say. And if he thought of something to say, he wouldn't mean it.

In part, he felt betrayed by his best friend. Even if all of this was partly his doing, he started all of this. But still, there was a nagging feeling in him that no matter what he did, he couldn't shake it off.

"Maybe I can call him, ask him to hear you out. Would you like that baby?" he asked, now moving his head to see your face.

You mumbled something that resembled an affirmation. But you had already drifted into a slumber, losing the fight against the powerful sleeping tea that you didn't even finish drinking.

He certainly didn't take that to be an actual affirmation on your part. But he thought he might as well try. Because he had to at least try to fix something from this mess.

Joshua held you until he was certain you were completely asleep. Subconsciously, he started humming that song again as he memorized again the features of your face with the pads of his fingers, grazing your skin ever so gently that you never felt a thing.

He loved you. He ached at the thought of losing you all for his stupidity, for his blind jealousy.

Slowly, he leaned so he could rest his forehead on the crown of your head. I'm sorry, he pleaded silently, I love you.

Cradling you in his arms, he stood up from the couch, carrying you straight to bed where the covers were already drawn so he just easily laid you down, tucking you in.

He asked himself if he was even worthy of being your lover. Holding you like this, sleeping next to you after a day of showing you how much he loved you, he wondered if his love would amount to something enough for you. Mistakes and all.

The Spot was as busy as any thursday.

It had been a while since Joshua's last visit. He had some memories of being wasted, to the point that he fell asleep on the barstool he was sitting at, his head propped in the lacquered red bartop.

It seemed funny to him that Jeonghan was sitting in the same place now.

His fingers were toying with the neck of the empty bottle of beer, his head leaned forwards, eyes out of focus.

Joshua silently sat beside his best friend, drawing his attention to him with a dreary look. "Hey."

"Hi," Joshua replied with an empty smile.

"How did you know I was here?" Jeonghan asked, but his hollow tone implied that he knew, but just wanted to confirm his suspicions.

"I had someone on the lookout for you tell me," he informed, Jeonghan nodded and signaled to the person behind the bar with just two fingers.

"Thank you Mingoo," Jeonghan said, the hollow tone persisting.

Jeonghan had ordered two bottles of beer one for Joshua and one for himself, which upon arriving he took a sip of his own, directing a cold look at Joshua.

"I know why you're here."

Joshua took a deep breath through his nose, looking straight in front of him and he felt his own eyes fall out of focus as his mind began to reel.

"Tell me why I'm here," Joshua muttered, trying not to roll his eyes.

Jeonghan frowned, for the first time in the whole interaction he showed a sign of some shred of emotion. The confused look told Joshua that his best friend might have expected a confrontation like this, but maybe he was not ready yet.

"You want to talk about that night," Jeonghan muttered slowly, the frown still painting small lines between his eyebrows. "But there's nothing to talk about. I am sorry about... everything."

Jeonghan averted his gaze in front of him and took another generous gulp of beer. Joshua knew what he meant by everything, about violating his trust, about letting his feelings for you grow. Or at least, that was how Jeonghan saw it.

Jeonghan still wore one of your scrunchies around his wrist. Joshua closed his eyes as the flashing feeling of remorse coursed through him.

"You're wrong."

His best friend paused as he was about to lift the bottle from the surface of the bar. Slowly, the black haired man turned in the barstool to face Joshua, tilting his head to one side ever so slightly.

"Tell me how I'm wrong," he retorted.

"I'm not here to talk about that night," Joshua began to explain, taking another gulp of beer to gain some very much needed courage. "Nor do I want you to apologize for anything."

Jeonghan pursed his lips into a pout, almost as though he wanted to ask a big, "What?" but refrained from doing so.

"I..." Joshua started, sending a look to the dim lamps on the ceiling, he took another deep breath but it felt like no matter how many times he did that, the restless beating of his heart wouldn't let him free. "I need you to talk to her, Jeonghan... I need you two to talk."

Jeonghan froze, the only part of his body that moved was the pair of brown eyes, scanning Joshua's face over and over again.

"Why?"

The question was uttered slowly and pointedly. Almost as if Jeonghan were avoiding falling into a trap into the deeper parts of this conversation that both men were avoiding to have for nearly a month.

"Because you both need it," Joshua said but he immediately wanted to retract himself, shaking his head once. "She needs it, Jeonghan."

Joshua exhaled hoarsely, feeling that if he didn't hit pause he would soon suffer a mental breakdown. It was driving him crazy, it was burning what peace he had left to ashes.

Some nights had passed since Joshua saw you crying in the living room. You were reluctant to talk about that night again, and the memory of you crying refused to leave his mind. It was robbing him of sleep, of peace. He needed to do something.

There was a general understanding that Jeonghan saw right away. In more than three weeks of not speaking to each other, Jeonghan knew his best friend would not be asking that unless it was completely serious.

But he couldn't bring himself to say yes. By now, he was confused as to how much Joshua knew about what happened that night. Did you tell him about the conversation that led him to this moment? Is Joshua sitting here asking him to reach out to you, his own girlfriend without knowing how Jeonghan felt about you?

If he did know about it all, this was a very strange request to ask the guy that very evidently had feelings for you.

But if Joshua did not know...

"I need to know why," Jeonghan insisted, making Joshua dart a look his way swiftly.

"I told you why."

That much told his best friend that he was bluffing, making Jeonghan huff. "You're not here just because you want us to talk," he grimaced slightly, now toying with the bottle in his hand. "There's more. There's always more with you."

Joshua sighed, letting his eyes close briefly. "I'm leaving in a few weeks," Joshua admitted, licking his lips in an irked way.

"Ah, there it is," Jeonghan nodded with realization, and then he sighed too. "I can't keep doing this, Joshua."

The uneasy feeling invading his chest made him breathe near erratical. It hurt him to know that he caused all of this, and now the two most important people in his life were hurting too.

"I don't care," Joshua said with an annoyed hint in his tone, casting a glance at him. There he saw the guilt in his best friend's eyes too and his heart twisted even more before he blurted: "Just this once, and I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

That definitely awoke an intrigue in him. "Does your girlfriend know you're here?" he inquired, pinning without much effort something that Joshua decided to omit.

"No and I'd like to keep it that way," he replied pointedly, setting the bottle down with a harsh thump. "Please. For now."

The two men exchanged a long glance that told years of knowing each other so deeply, they had learned to communicate without words. Jeonghan saw the desperation, the guilt and remorse in Joshua's eyes.

"Okay," his best friend replied, but the intrigue and the confusion didn't subside. "I will. I'll talk to her."

"Thank you," he muttered quietly, averting his gaze elsewhere. "I'm sorry about all of this too, Jeonghan. I know you didn't want any of it but if you love her, you'll listen to what she has to say."

Jeonghan froze. Slowly processing what he just heard, he waited for Joshua's next bluff, he waited for something to tell him that he might have misheard but before he could even protest, lie, or negate it, Joshua was already leaving his seat.

"So you do know."

"Please," he said, pulling out his wallet and drawing out a bill which he placed beneath his empty beer bottle. "I know you better than anyone else. Trust me, I know."

Completely thrown off, Jeonghan watched his best friend walk out of the bar, thus leaving him with much to think and no clear sign as to where to begin.

The ride back home was quiet. Joshua remained deep in thought for the whole half an hour, silently thanking that it was about nine o'clock and traffic was busy. He needed the extra minutes to think as to what he was doing, how he would confront you.

Ever since that night, Joshua had encountered a dilemma. He knew that you had feelings over Jeonghan, and that to some degree, it was mutual. He saw the hurt in your eyes afterwards, the inwardly quietness of your mourning of a friendship with him.

And now, he saw the same in Jeonghan. He saw the morose pain of losing you, of not being able to reach you. Something Joshua himself knew too well.

But what killed him was that this was somehow a result of his own choices. He asked Jeonghan to get closer to you, he left you for a month, it was a recipe for disaster.

And it wasn't that he didn't trust you, he did. And he trusts his best friend as well.

Even though he hated himself for all of this, he couldn't help but live in the memory of that night. It made him sick that, even if he had double intentions, he enjoyed it by far more than he had originally thought.

He felt sticky.

But he constantly thought of that night, he vexedly thought of how much he enjoyed watching you and Jeonghan having sex in front of him. It was like he saw a different version of you, and for some reason he could not pinpoint, he loved it.

It was fucked up, he knew that. He didn't know if he would ever confess that to you. But he suspected you knew it already, because he didn't make an attempt to hide it. Joshua liked the way the three of you moved seamlessly, almost as if... it were meant to be.

He felt torn.

Torn between hating himself and thinking of that night. Hating himself for playing with his best friend's feelings and for lying to you. Torn with jealousy because his best friend had feelings for you, but every time he thought of that night, he grew hard at the memory of you fucking Jeonghan.

As soon as Joshua crossed the door, he knew that you were working in your studio. All of the lights were out, leaving the apartment in a somber quietness that was only interrupted by the echoing traffic noise outside.

The curtains were drawn, so the living room was dimly illuminated by the city lights. Joshua discarded his shoes by the entrance before making his way to turn on the lamp on the corner of the room and then went looking for you.

Gently, he pushed the door to your studio, finding the only source of light being your double monitors. You didn't budge, partly because your noise cancellation headphones kept you from knowing Joshua had arrived home.

Joshua leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he watched briefly you typing away, every now and then you bobbed your head to what he presumed was the song you were listening to.

He didn't want to pry, because he suspected that times when you were deep into your writing session, you wanted to be left alone. Sometimes, when you were not as busy, he would crash on the small couch next to your desk.

Those times, he would lie idly scrolling on his phone or playing his acoustic guitar. But inevitably, he would fall into a distraction. Just as he was now, lost in the imagination of a life with you, the cherishing of the moments he can get like this.

Before he has to go away again.

Something made you stop typing and you pushed the keyboard in as a sign of termination. A few clicks and then you reluctantly turn your head, as though you already knew he was standing there.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hover," he smiled softly at you.

You grabbed your headset and pulled your head back out of it. "You're back!" you sighed in a pleased surprise. "Hi handsome."

A surge of tenderness and warmth washed over him, suddenly being overcome with the need to melt into you.

"Hi beautiful," he replied, his voice sounding a little hoarse.

He crossed the distance between the door to your study to your armchair and before you could get to your feet, he was already leaning down, grabbing your chin with two fingers to kiss you. It was a brief, tender kiss that ended with a small smacking sound and a hum from you.

"Someone's in a mood," you noticed right away with a tiny smile. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's okay," he whispered before diving again into your soft lips, capturing them with a low hum from his part now, trying to wordlessly let you know that he needed you.

"Okay," you replied in a mere whisper, taken away by the urgency to which your lips were being hugged by his now.

"Are you done with that?" he asked, his voice raspy to what he assumed was the need, the love and adoration he felt for you flooding inside him.

"No, not yet," you replied with a playful grin. "Why?"

Joshua thought of the way you elongated that question, the taunting velvety tone you gave to it. "Because I was thinking of you on my way back," he mumbled, still littering kisses on your lips, moving to one of your cheeks as he kept speaking. "I remembered that I owe you a massage."

"Well then get on with it," you let out a small chuckle that sounded sweet to him, though it was playful. "You don't need to be all over me to do it, Mr. Hong."

That made him laugh in both awe and lack of words.

So he just simply scooped you up off your chair. He initially crouched a little, securing your body with his hands as you wordlessly understood what he intended to do and reached out to wrap your legs around his waist.

Not without some struggle due to the darkness, he searched his way to the bedroom, where Joshua quite literally threw you to the bed, sighing with amusement as he heard you squeak when you landed on the mattress.

You looked at him up and down, a glint of excitement in your eyes.

But Joshua found it hard to move for a moment. The way that you looked at him made him freeze, he found the love and carnal need in your eyes and he almost had to slap himself.

The pause was brief but you noticed. "Come here," you muttered sweetly, reaching out a hand to him.

Joshua climbed on the high bed, placing each of his hands at your sides, his body hovering on top of yours as he slowly propped his knees and elbows to pin your body down with his.

"How was your thing with the boys?" you asked as he planted a tender kiss on the apple of your cheek. "I actually thought you'd be gone for longer."

A sharp pain tugged at his insides. You didn't know he had gone out to meet Jeonghan, and he felt bad for lying to you. He felt bad at how easily he could craft a story to deceive you.

"It was fine," he whispered, taking advantage of the position of his face, so you couldn't see his eyes, probably translating the restlessness he felt inside.

"Did you guys have fun?" you asked and he knew you were just trying to make normal conversation.

"Yeah, you know them," he sighed, trying to make his voice sound at ease. "They're pretty chill."

You shuddered slightly when his breath caressed a sensitive spot on your neck as he leaned to press more kisses on your skin, his heart deflating at every second he waited for your next question. But luckily you quickly shifted your attention to his lips reaching your collarbones.

Your hand slid on the nape of his neck. "Oh, Josh..." you whispered shakily, a small moan coiling when he didn't care to get rid of the t-shirt you were wearing, which he noticed was his.

He cupped your breasts with his hands, fingers digging gently on the cotton fabric as he pressed his mouth on your already pebbled nipple, which he teased with his lips and teeth, gently to not hurt you but harsh enough to make your breath hitch embarrassingly.

"I thought I was getting a massage," you mumbled faintly, your hands searching his body for somewhere to hold onto, a hand deciding to tangle on his long golden hair while the other parked on his back.

"You'll get it, baby," he replied in kind, his hands searching for your shorts, practically ripping them off of you. "But right now I need you."

"Slow down, Josh," you sighed bemusedly as he tossed the shorts to the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered, pressing more kisses into your lips, those becoming more and more heated and hasty. "I really need you."

With a low hum, you were quickly subdued to his carnal desire, holding onto his shoulders your hands roamed all over his back. "You don't want to take this off?" you muttered, fingers tugging on the jacket on his shoulders.

"Yeah, okay," he breathed. Then he pulled back, yanking his brown jacket. And with a thrust of his arm, he carelessly tossed the jacket to the floor.

The sight made you tilt your head on the pillows. "I want the t-shirt gone too, Joshua," you mumbled with a small smile tugging at your lips.

Joshua gave no thought to your command and obliged wordlessly. He just saw the glint in your eyes as his hands searched for the hem of the white t-shirt, pulling it over his head with one motion of his arms.

And just as he began to lean towards your body on the bed, you stopped him. You just lifted one leg from the bed, placing your foot between his pecs.

"Jeans too," you said sultrily quirking up an eyebrow at him. Though there was a noticeable quiver in your tone due to nervousness, the darkened look in your eyes convinced him.

Lately, you have been trying your hand at taking control in the bedroom. A few commands here and there, until you grow more and more sheepish and beg him to retake control. Though obviously not without some teasing from his part.

But tonight, Joshua thought that maybe this is just what he needed. He needed to disconnect his mind from all that troubled him, he needed you to have your fun with him, to use him, to punish him.

So he climbed off the bed, unbuckling his belt, the clinking sound as it dangled made you prop half of your body with your elbows to keep looking at his body as he became progressively more naked.

He stepped out of his light blue jeans, sneaking a glance up at you in your bed as he started to crawl back on top of you. You were biting your bottom lip, hiding an excited smile as you saw his beautiful tanned skin, his bulging biceps and toned pecs.

"You're so hot," you welcomed him wrapping your arms around his neck as he hovered on top of you, meeting your lips with his own with soft and wet kisses. "And mine."

That made him smile as he kissed you deeper. "All yours," he whispered, feeling weak over the way you hummed happily in his mouth, your hands roaming all over his back.

"Yeah, baby?" you mumbled, your voice tiny but still in a taunting purr. A perfect mimic to his own voice when he is the one in control. "Will you do something for me then?"

"Anything," he breathed, his lips finding a sensitive spot on your neck quite effortlessly, just to hear your breath hitch and feel how your body tensed up.

"Get the handcuffs," you murmured into his ear, your fingers raking through his golden hair in a response to your own nervousness.

Joshua paused, but he didn't think of questioning you, or teasing you. He pulled back to see the certainty in your eyes and nodded, making his way to the dresser where you both kept a variety of sex toys and other accessories.

As he got the pink handcuffs he got for you in what felt like forever ago, not mere months, you got to your knees and reached out to your nightstand.

Immediately, he got a notion of what your plan was when he eyed the blindfold in your hands.

"Can you–," you paused, gathering your words in your mind before trying again. "Lie down for me, Josh."

He tried to conceal a smirk by biting his lower lip. But he obliged anyway, partly because he wanted to see where you would go with this. But on the other hand, he ached for you.

"Hands up," you breathed nervously, but the excitement in your eyes made him beam at you. You smiled and nodded your head at the railings of the headboard. "Don't make me ask again."

Anticipation ran thick and heavy through his body. His eyes remained trained on you as he raised his arms over his head, fingers grazing the rails.

You sat back on your heels, hovering over him as you reached out to secure the cuffs around his wrists. You noticed his eyes focused on your face, noticed the dark and greedy need that was slowly eating him from the inside.

"Be good for me," you whispered with a sheepish smile, leaning down to press your lips against his.

"Always am," he breathed, sounding hoarse from the urgent desire beating fast in his throat.

"We'll see about that, baby," you replied, so close to his own face still that he could feel the smile curving in your lips.

Joshua closed his eyes, letting go of his worries when your lips met his again. The pain and remorse slowly blended with the deep craving for your touch, for your love and undivided attention. Selfish, he told himself with a slight rush of guilt, but he couldn't bring himself to stop you.

Because your lips were on his. He swore he could melt into your gentle touch, the tenderness to which you always seem to carry yourself even in moments like this. He hadn't known a tender kiss like yours.

But you quickly progressed into a deeper, heated kiss, tugging at his lower lip with your teeth, making him groan quietly. "You look so hot like this," you said in a breathy mewl, slowly moving your knees to his sides.

Straddling him, you ran a hand from his forehead to the crown of his head, fingers skating through the golden locks of his hair, looking at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

"I have a confession to make," you smiled sweetly, your hand left his hair, sliding a fingertip from his cheekbone to his chin. "I was also thinking about you before you got home."

"Y-you were?" he had to swallow hard, his voice sounded hoarse from the lust, love and adoration slowly consuming him whole.

"Yeah," you breathed before biting on your lower lip. "I couldn't even focus on my writing."

"What were you thinking about?" he asked with a low murmur as you continued to litter his skin with wet kisses, he shuddered hard when your sweet breath caressed the curve of his neck.

"I thought of the things I want to do to you," you said breathily, you trailed down to his collarbones, sneaking a glance at him with a sheepish smile. "Have I ever told you?"

Joshua shifted in his position slightly, the metal chain linking the cuffs clanked against the rails of the headboard. "No, I don't think so," he whispered, closing his eyes when you resumed with your little trail of kisses on his skin.

There was a single mole sitting perfectly between his pecs, which you kissed lovingly as your fingers skated on his chest, caressing over, a thumb circling around his nipple just as your mouth kissed the other.

The strangled sound that came from Joshua made you grin, he felt it on his skin as you hummed bemusedly. Joshua was sensitive around his chest area, and you were always so excited to find out just how far you could go.

"I think of having you like this," you raised your eyes to his hands cuffed to the headboard, his beefy biceps framing his golden brown head. "I thought of kissing every single inch of your body."

Joshua made note of the punctuated manner you delivered the last few words, he thought of how sultrily you sounded. Sweet and dangerous.

"I thought of teasing you, marking you..." you gave him a bashful look, trying to bite your own smile as you moved to kiss his other nipple. "I want to see how obedient you can be."

Joshua closed his eyes again, trying to put no resistance to your newly found dominance over him. Raking your fingernails over his chest, littering him with feathery kisses that made him suck in a breath.

"Fuck," he squeezed his eyelids tightly when you suckled the skin on the underside of one of his pecs. His body tensed up, the cuffs clanking against the headboard. "Baby..."

"Mm? How does that feel, Josh?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

"Good," he breathed, licking his lips.

"Yeah?" you cocked your head to one side cutely, puckering your glossy lips before attaching them to his skin.

"Yeah..." he replied faintly, limbs relaxing into pleasure when your lovebites became harsher, mercilessly marking his skin.

He vaguely remembered the time where he didn't let anyone so much scratched his skin. He belonged to no one, so no one would leave a mark.

And there he was. Willingly subduing himself to you, letting you leave your mark on his skin, because he was completely yours.

"Stay still," you advised with a low tone before running your tongue on the recently marked area, which was already tingling.

But he couldn't help it, he tensed again, flinching so abruptly that his body nearly made yours jump.

"Joshua," you warned sternly.

"Sorry. Sorry, baby," he rasped with a laugh that remarked on his shyness. "I'm not used to this."

He was usually the one in control. The one torturing you with slow kisses, and you the one cuffed to the headboard. So the times you actually had him at your mercy were very few.

"Mmn, then I think I'll put this on you," you grabbed the blindfold that you had placed aside. "I'll remove it only if you behave."

Joshua didn't try to hide his discontent with that, sending you a glare before lifting his head from the pillows to let you secure the blindfold around his head, covering his eyes.

"There you go," you whispered. "Good boy."

Your fingers slid to cup his chin before capturing his lips with your own in a heated kiss. His tongue swept inside your mouth, muffling a raspy moan that denoted his need for you.

"If you misbehave again, I'll just use my toys and force you to watch," you muttered, emboldened by the absence of his attentive gaze on you now.

"I'll behave," he replied immediately, ignoring the quivering in his tone. "Please, just... don't stop."

There was a pause, your fingers left his chin and with a painful jab in his chest he considered pleading with you to remove his cuffs, maybe just release one of his hands. He wanted to feel you, to ease the ache eating him from the inside.

"Baby? Please," he whispered, licking his lips with some anxiousness. "Please keep going."

"Mmn, someone's a little impatient," you cooed, he could hear you smiling through your tone. "Why are you in a rush? We have all night, baby."

He cursed at himself silently for teaching you everything you were doing. But he couldn't deny that he was enjoying this way too much.

You sat back, pressing your clothed pussy on the hard bulge beneath his boxers. "Oh," you breathed upon feeling the small wet patch on the stretchy and dark fabric he still wore. You had scooted back a little sitting now on his strong thighs.

The next thing he felt was strands of your hair caressing his abdomen before you pressed more kisses around his belly button. Joshua had to ball his hands into fists to avoid jumping dramatically on the bed.

"Fuck," he breathed, feeling your fingers hooking on the band of his boxers and he braced himself, biting hard on his lower lip as your lips pressed more kisses down his happy trail.

Your fingers pushed the waistband of his boxers down further, a sigh of something that sounded close to awe spilled from your lips when his erection slapped his lower abdomen.

You crawled backwards to pull his boxers down his long legs, with a bit of his help. "Have I told you how much I like this?" you whispered, running a finger through his soft pubic hair.

"Maybe," he sighed, suppressing a shudder.

"Baby, I don't think I'd ever seen you this wet," you pointed with a gentle tone.

A finger circled around his slit, gathering the precum on his cockhead. "Mmn," you hummed softly, making him assume that you were licking the precum off your own fingers.

"Baby," he whispered with a near palpable urgency. "Please..."

"Yes, Josh?"

"Please don't make me wait," he pleaded, his voice raspy and he hated how needy he sounded but at the same time he wouldn't dare to pretend otherwise.

"Why should I?" you asked.

"I'll be good, just..." he sighed when your hand started caressing his thighs. "Let me feel you, baby, please..."

"Like this?" you muttered, your hand circling around his length and started stroking him slowly.

He groaned, sinking his head back in the pillows, his heart constricting. "No, baby, not like that," he gasped, but his mouth fell slowly when your grip became tighter around him, moving on his hard cock faster.

You rolled your hand on his bulbous head expertly, smearing his precum all over his veiny shaft, the jerking of your hand causing a wet sound.

"Then how, Josh?" you cooed, making him once again to be rid of the blindfold to see your face. "You don't like this?"

You were probably biting your lip over the sight of him trying to behave and follow your command. You were probably reveling at the sight of him subdued to you, the twitching of his fingers, his throat bobbing.

"I–, I do," he rasped. "Can I have your mouth? Please baby, I'm being good," he whispered, moving his head sideways to muffle a moan against his own bicep when he felt your pretty lips on one of his thighs.

"Mmmn, I guess..." you sighed with a pleased tone. But you didn't give him what he wanted right away.

"Please," he whispered, his thighs tensing involuntarily when your lips kissed closer to his crotch on his thigh. "Please, please..."

"I'll give you my mouth," you conceded, the movement of your hand didn't relent in speed, didn't relax your grip. "But you're going to tell me when you're close."

He nodded frantically.

"Good boy," you whispered, your fist slowed down but you continued jerking him off, giving him a broad stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock, trailing down to his balls.

"Fuck," he clenched his jaw tightly, the muscle on his abdomen tensing before he groaned gutturally. "Fuck, fuck, baby..."

"Do you like that?" you asked swiftly, your hand rolling over his cockhead to spread his precum all over his cock before you wrapped your mouth on his balls, sucking slightly, testing for his reaction.

"Y-yeah," he croaked, craning his neck as his head sunk on the pillows.

The gentle slurping sound that came from your mouth only egged him on, but he forced himself to ground his body on the bed, the only part of his body allowed to move was his mouth as he moaned breathily.

"So good," he murmured faintly. swearing he could see colors as your mouth continued to suck on his balls, your hand pumping him languidly, distractedly.

"Remember what I told you." you muttered before wrapping your mouth around his cockhead, licking him slowly, as if simulating an open kiss, tasting the salty precum.

"God, fuck," he gasped, moaning hoarsely when you sank your mouth on him, hollowing your cheeks out as you moved up, swirling around the bulbous head. "Baby, I don't think I'll last long."

But you continued bobbing your head up and down his cock, your hand pumping on the base, tongue swirling, sucking him harder.

"Baby, I'm close," he croaked with urgency. "I'm close, fuck, fuck."

You stopped a second later, detaching your mouth and hand altogether from his throbbing cock as he groaned loudly, panting as though he had run a marathon. Even with the blindfold still on, he squeezed his eyes, scrunching in the fleeting attempt to resist his climax.

"Good?" you asked quietly when his breathing calmed down.

"Good," he nodded.

"If I take this off, will you continue to be good?" you asked, lifting a side of the blindfold.

"I promise," he gasped, still sounding breathless. "Please."

The blindfold was slid up carefully. Joshua lifted his head to help you get rid of the headband and placed his head back into the pillows with a pleased sigh.

"Thank you," he whispered, he could finally see you now.

You were still wearing his oversized t-shirt, and panties. But upon scanning you up and down, he noticed your demeanor, the mischievous glint in your eyes as you went back to your position between his spread legs.

"You're being so good, baby," you whispered, sending him a glance. A smirk crowned your glistening lips.

You were relishing at the sight of him handcuffed to the rails of your bed, chest covered in new hickeys, golden brown hair disheveled, eyes wild in lust.

"Where were we?" you asked with feigned innocence, wrapping one hand around his wet cock. "Do you want more, baby?"

Joshua released a sigh through gritted teeth, bracing himself for more torture. Nodding, he replied with a strangled groan. "Please."

"Tell me when you're close again," you whispered before kissing the tip of his cock, gathering the precum with your tongue with a pleased moan.

Now that he had a view of what you were doing to him, he knew that he wouldn't last long.

An urgent, breathy moan spilled from him the moment you wrapped your mouth around him, sinking down on him expertly, taking him wholly. The sight of his cock disappearing in your mouth was near maddening.

"Fuck!" he gasped, tugging at the pink handcuffs in a knee jerk reaction. His thumb brushed the button that could set his wrists free, but he didn't press down on it, the thought didn't even cross his mind.

He ground his hips down on the bed in an attempt to not push them into your mouth. He ached to come... he ached to hear you give him the permission to do so.

"Baby..." he mumbled. "God, that feels so good."

He closed his eyes briefly, gritting his teeth tightly but nothing worked, his ears buzzed, he could taste the sweet release, see it behind his closed eyes in colors and stars.

The wet, smacking sounds that came from your mouth was the only thing he could register for a moment. The quietness in the room overtaken by the sounds created by your mouth, relentlessly going up and down on his hard cock, your drool dripping onto his hilt and his balls.

"Bunny, I'm going to come," he mumbled faintly, he cleared his throat once and insisted. "God, baby, I'm close."

You stopped again, but this time Joshua only breathed deeply, eyes closed to focus on bringing himself back down. He knew that if he saw your face, he wouldn't be able to make it.

"Mmmn," he heard you hum in thought. "Such a good boy. Look."

Obfuscated, he opened his eyes to see you swipe a thumb on his slit, not without some flinching from his part. You had picked up a white bead of his cum and now directing a lascivious glance at him, you took the pad of your thumb to your mouth.

"You're good at resisting your orgasm for me," you pointed with a small smirk. "I wonder if you'll be this good when you're inside me."

He shook his head slightly. "I don't think I can last longer," he mumbled, frowning slightly. "I need to come, baby. Please, let me come."

You tilted your head to one side cutely. "But I'm just starting to have fun," you pouted, but a smile broke your bratty act.

"And I'll make you feel good," he offered with some urgency coating his words. "Please? I'll do whatever you want, just please... let me come."

"Mmmm," you pretended to consider his plea, pursing your lips and looking upwards. "Fine. But only because you're being good."

You leaned your mouth down on him again, looking at him straight in his eyes as you continued to suck the life out of him, bobbing your head up and down, doing everything you know drives him absolutely crazy.

"Fuck," he sighed, balling his hands into fists the moment you hollowed your your cheeks, swiping your tongue around the very sensitive cockhead. "God, baby! Just like that, please, please..."

He lifted his head from the pillows, breathing embarrassingly hard and loud, being so close to his orgasm his thighs and abdomen had already tensed in anticipation.

A breathy moan escaped him once again, making him sound weak and pathetic but he couldn't care less. Your beautiful eyes were locked with his, enjoying every reaction he gave you.

"I'm close," he warned, letting his head fall back onto the pillows. "Baby, baby... fuuuuuck."

You sucked him harder, your tongue pleasured his cockhead eliciting one long raspy moan from him as ropes of cum spilled from him and onto your mouth. You swallowed instantly, looking at him babble and incoherent things to you.

"Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you, baby," he said over and over, breathing hard, eyes closed tightly as he enjoyed every second of his orgasm.

You kept swallowing until he stopped cumming in your mouth and you finished with a loving kiss that you pressed on the reddened tip of his cock.

"Good?" he heard you mumble.

"Good," he replied with a shy smile and opened his eyes.

You looked pleased with your work, in fact you were almost considering calling it a night and skip to aftercare. You leaned forward, reaching the cuffs with a hand and pressed the release button.

"You were so good, Josh," you smiled cutely at him before kissing his studded brow.

His hands searched for you, landing on the line of your back as he kissed whatever part of you he could find, his lips brushed your chin, pressing frenzied kisses until he reached your lips.

A small giggle from you vibrated in his mouth. "Josh," you squealed when his hands forced you to press your body on his. "You don't want to rest, baby? You came pretty hard."

"No," he breathed against your lips. "Need to make you feel good."

"I'm good," you replied dazedly, threading your fingers through his hair. "We can stop here."

"No, please," he muttered with some urgency making his voice quiver. "I can keep going, baby."

You knew your boyfriend could go for hours. In fact, the last time you counted, he could go for five rounds in one night, one after the other. That night made him certain that no other person could make him feel like this.

"Okay..." you breathed.

Joshua's hands slid down from your back, a finger slipped beneath the backside of your lace panties and his other hand wrapped around the waistband, effortlessly ripping the delicate fabric in two.

"Joshua!" you chastised, but there was a smile on your face. "You could've just asked me to take them off."

"Faster this way," he muttered, throwing your ruined panties away and promptly took the hem of his t-shirt to get it off you.

You sent him an amused look before raising your arms to help with his task of undressing you completely.

Joshua chucked the bundled up t-shirt aside and his hands slipped on the back of your head, fingers threading on your hair as he pulled you down for a deep kiss, a moan reverberating on his chest.

He felt you adjust on top of him, your hand carefully searching for his cock, fingers wrapping around him to languidly pump his erection before you threw your body back, angling your wet cunt on his cock.

A sweet sigh spilled from your lips. You decided to toy with him some more by sliding your slippery folds on him up and down. His reddened cockhead dripping wet with your arousal, sensitive over the hard blowjob and the edging.

"Please," he sighed and pleaded with a weak tone: "No more teasing."

"Mmf," you nodded but kept sliding your cunt on his cock, his bulbous head had grown sensitive making him flinch when you rubbed your clit against it, drawing a strangled moan from him.

"Baby, please," his hands gripping your waist nearly give out and force you to sink down on him, but he had to command some control on himself.

"Just a bit longer," you sighed, throwing your head back as your fingers pressed on the underside of his shaft keeping his cock lodged between your folds as you moved your hips back and forth, rubbing your clit on him.

"Sensitive," he whispered, sinking his head on the pillows as tears brimmed in his eyes. But he gritted his teeth, unable to deny that he loved being used by you. "I need you, please. Please baby, just fuck me."

Your mouth parted, letting out a moan that told how much you liked to hear him beg. You liked to hear in his tone, to see in his face how bad he wanted you.

"Please," he insisted with a mere whisper, his eyes trained on your pussy lips spread open by his cock, slick rubbed all over him, he savored the throbbing, the warmth but it hurt at the same time.

And without any warning, you sank down on him. "Joshua!" you squealed when his grip on your hips tightened to the point that it hurt.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he whispered, squeezing his teary eyes shut. "I'm sorry baby, fuck, fuck, you feel so good."

Your hands found his thighs, angling your body back to move your hips on him, fucking yourself on his cock, riding him in a way you never had.

He opened his eyes to see the beautiful features of your face taken over by blissful pleasure, then he saw his cock glistening wet with your arousal disappearing inside your walls. "Fuck, baby," he sighed in pure awe. "I fucking love you so much."

Joshua sounded so pathetic, his voice was raspy and almost sounded as if he were about to cry. But a soft smile appeared on your face, a glint of love in your eyes.

"I love you too, baby," you replied sweetly, removing a hand from his thigh and placing it over one of his. "So much."

Without thinking, he grabbed you and flipped your back onto the mattress, the movement so swift and efficient you could only squeal in surprise.

"Sorry, sorry baby," he whispered again, positioning himself between your legs and eased himself, thrusting shallowly inside you with a pleased moan that was muffled by your mouth.

It wasn't about regaining control, he just wanted to be face to face with you, kissing you, feeling your chest pressed to his.

"I love you," he whispered again, forgetting about subbing for you but he kept the pace of his thrusts fast and steady, enjoying the sound of your sweet moans in blissful pleasure.

"I love you, Josh," you responded dazedly, wrapping your legs around him, your fingers threading on his golden brown hair.

Joshua leaned his head down, his forehead pressing with yours. You felt the studded piercing grazing your eyebrow, his breath caressing your lips as he moaned gutturally.

A hand searched on the back of his head, grabbing one of yours and he pinned it down on the pillow, locking his fingers with yours.

"I love you," he mouthed, so quietly that you never noticed, being so enraptured in pleasure, moaning his name over and over.

Your hand slipped from his nape down to cup his cheek, bringing him for a sweet kiss that almost toppled him over the edge. "I'm close, Josh," you sighed.

Joshua nodded with his head, diving for another kiss, locking his lips with yours but deeper this time, his tongue swiping over your lower lip and into your mouth. You let out a high pitched moan into his mouth as became undone, the sweet waves of pleasure washing over you.

The feeling of your walls squeezed around him pushed him over too, he stifled a moan, tightening his grip on your hand slightly as he spilled himself inside you with shallow thrusts.

He slumped down on top of you, face cradled in the crook of your neck as the thumping in his eardrums subsided, along with the frenzied feeling coursing in his veins. Hearing your ragged gasps, feeling your legs shaking around him, your free hand stroking his back, his nape, and then his hair.

Joshua thought of something cheesy to say. But no words came out of him. So he settled for the quiet, peaceful moment you gave him, though oblivious to the turmoil that buzzed in his mind. Your heart was beating fast under his chest, and slowly, as he came out of it, he could feel his own heart beating against yours.

The day after, Joshua was returning from a practice session when he noticed you had left the apartment. Looking around the place and looking for you in your study, he only found your phone on your desk. So he promptly knew where to find you.

You turned to see him when he pushed the door open to the rooftop. "Hi bunny," he muttered softly upon standing beside you, close to the walled up ledge of the building.

"Hi baby," you pressed your lips in a weak smile.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Everything alright?"

You shook your head no. "Jeonghan texted me," you whispered, your lower lip quivering slightly.

Joshua stilled as your eyes watered but you quickly brushed it off by looking skyward and breathing deeply. "What did he say?"

"He wants to talk."

"Baby, this is good. It's what you wanted, right? You can tell him how you feel," Joshua said, but the words sounded strangled, as if it took everything in him to voice them out.

You sent him a reluctant look. "I thought that I'd be ready. Now, I don't know what to say," your voice quivered as your eyes brimmed with tears rapidly. "I broke his heart, Joshua."

"We both did," he whispered, feeling his own heart deflate upon the confession.

"What?" you asked, but he wasn't looking at your face anymore.

Shame finally took over him, making him turn his face away. "I suspected that he had feelings for you before that night..." he started, the weight of his guilt sitting at the base of his throat.

"How?"

"He was unusually gentle to you," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly. "You thought that he was being friendly, and he is, don't get me wrong. But this was different, and I know this because I've known him for longer; he spent a lot of time with you, hugged you, called you princess..."

You shuddered, hard enough that Joshua noticed. He saw how you bristled in pain and that almost broke him.

"I don't blame you for not noticing," he said right before you thought of saying something about this. "But I saw the way you looked at him... I heard your speech the night of your book release, and I understood that in my absence you had him. In the month that I left he gave you what I couldn't and I don't blame you if that made you grow feelings, baby."

He gathered his courage and took a deep breath. He wondered again if he deserved you. Maybe he didn't, he thought. Maybe he knew all along and was just sabotaging everything before he could hurt you more.

"And then you told me you wanted to invite him over for a threesome and I agreed, partly because I wanted it. But I also wanted to see if I was right about your feelings for him. I should've told you before but... I was jealous, I was mad at Jeonghan."

Joshua closed his eyes, burdened with guilt and remorse, the pain burning in his chest. He regretted with all his being the moment he decided to torture his best friend and lie to you all because of his own jealousy.

His fingers trembled slightly as he clasped his hands together, blinking at the sky above him while inhaling deeply. The silence was deadly, but he couldn't bring himself to face you.

"You shouldn't have done that, Joshua," you finally whispered, so quietly he needed to see your face. You were crying now, shaking slightly with sobs.

"I know, believe me. I know," he turned to face you now, trying to get you to look at the honesty in his eyes but you just averted your gaze elsewhere. "And I am sorry, I truly am. Baby? Please, look at me."

He cautiously brought a hand to hold your chin, but you quickly turned away before he could even touch you.

"Don't touch me," you whispered, recoiling from his touch and walking towards the door.

Joshua went completely rigid, you turned away from him, his mind began to reel before so fast he was barely aware of the pain that was searing through him.

Calling your name aloud, he tried to chase you before you could reach the door. "Baby, please stop—just listen to me."

"We'll talk when I get back, Joshua," you snapped, turning to flash him a look that stopped the blood cold in his veins.

"Would you have told me otherwise?" he asked, his voice raising to make you hear the urgency in his tone. "If you had known, if you had been certain about your feelings for him, would you have told me?"

You turned to him now, eyes flaring with rage and despair. "You don't agree to a fucking threesome to get me to confront my feelings for him!"

"Answer the question," Joshua retorted, his heart beating faster than ever before.

You sucked in a breath shakily as tears continued to fall down your cheeks. "No. I don't know," you replied with a frustrated tone. "I don't think I would have even admitted it to myself."

Joshua pressed his lips into a tight line. He hoped that you would see what he saw, that you both fucked up and cannot go any longer ignoring that you were hurting each other, hurting Jeonghan.

"I told you before, I needed time–," you gasped and covered your face with your hands in a gesture of frustration. "I can't do this right now, Joshua. I can't talk to you."

His heart instantly deflated, remorse, guilt and pain had finally given way with him, tearing him apart. It had been a while since he last cried, he realized. "I'm sorry," he said.

Hot tears blurred the vision of your pinched eyebrows, the disappointment on your face was the last thing he saw on you before you turned towards the door and left him behind.

You were not sure which door to use. It was the first time you had come to this place, but you assumed that the safest option or the quickest route was the front door.

The theater was dark and it felt cold under the seemingly lack of activity inside. But you heard voices, and loud noises behind a pair of double doors that let white light seep through the crevices.

The nervousness coursing through your veins made your blood pulsate in your throat. The moment you left your apartment you were unable to shake the feeling that you were making a huge mistake.

But at the same time, you needed to be there. You needed to fix things.

"Can I help you miss?" a voice called from behind.

"I'm looking for someone," you replied with a jump, your hand flying to your chest.

Upon turning, the face you saw was familiar.

"Oh, hi there," Joshua's old flatmate, Seokmin raised a hand and waved in a friendly way.

"Hi there," you replied.

"Who're you looking for?" he asked politely. "I work here, so maybe I can point you in the right direction, y'know? It's a big place, easy to get lost."

You took one second to consider how the situation would look to someone who knows both Joshua and Jeonghan. In particular, someone who knows you as Joshua's partner.

Seokmin pressed his lips into the smallest of smiles, not noticing you pause.

"Yoon Jeonghan, do you know him?" you asked meekly, voice quivering.

"That's my boss," he nodded with a pleased tone. "This way."

He turned and headed to the direction you assumed he came from, which was a hallway that distanced the double doors from sight.

"Are you here for the job offer?" he asked curiously, turning to see your face as he enunciated his question.

"J-job offer?" you shook your head silently.

"Yeah, we're in the middle of putting this show together and one of our writers quit recently," he pointed and then his tone suddenly changed. "And... Shua told me you're a writer..."

He turned his head and looked forward, the tips of his ears blazing bright red.

"Oh, don't worry," you smiled shyly too, with a twist to your heart from hearing your boyfriend's name. "But no, uh... Jeonghan is a friend."

"Ah, of course," he sighed, not hiding his relief. "Well, I'm not surprised. He's quite the popular guy."

You nodded, deciding to remain quiet.

The hallways were brightly lit, and as you walked further alongside Seokmin, you picked up more busy noise, voices, people breaking into song, shouting, laughing.

"It's a circus here," Seokmin muttered. "We're getting ready for a rehearsal so it's really busy here."

You stopped walking. "I can come back later," you stammered, suddenly feeling stupid over your rash decision of coming to talk to him, breaking your last agreement with Jeonghan.

The last time you talked to him, he asked for time. You weren't ready to confront your feelings either so you thought it was more convenient for you two to think about what really happened between you two.

"He's not as busy right now, I guess," he frowned slightly. "Are you sure? I can tell him you stopped by."

"Oh no, please don't," you blurted, turning on your heel and waving at Seokmin. "I'll find my way out! Thank you."

You practically ran to find the front door, your mind buzzing with so many thoughts at once that you didn't care how abruptly you left Seokmin, you didn't want to think that you were coming back home to face your boyfriend.

A sharp pain stabbed you right in the chest that you had to fill your lungs with air in order to make the feeling go away.

You stopped before the double doors once again just as your eyes caught the sight of a tall man pacing back and forth before a small stage down below rows of seats.

You pushed the door, the loud creaking noise making Jeonghan snap his head your way.

He froze at the same time you did, but he was faster than you. He handed the tablet he was holding to someone next to him, muttering a few words that made that person and the rest of the crew back away from the stage, calling a break.

Moving slowly down the rows of steps just as he was coming toward you with a question written in his eyes.

Seeing his face again after three weeks of no contact was more than you initially thought it would be. You had missed him with every fiber of your being, you missed his quiet company, his gentle voice, the jokes, the laughs.

Somehow you both met in the middle of the stairs. Jeonghan had to raise his sweet brown eyes to meet yours. A small frown appeared in your face when you choked on your words when you attempted to communicate that you needed to talk to him.

Failing to use your words, and without giving much thought you flung your arms around him just as he wrapped you in his too. His hands rubbed your back when you choked back a sob.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, though you were lost on how he was the one apologizing.

But he did it again, he whispered in your ear as you couldn't contain your tears anymore, he held you for a long while, rubbing your back, whispering that he was sorry over and over again.

"I'm sorry too, Jeonghan," you replied finally. "I know you wanted me to give you more time, but–"

"Don't," he interrupted. "Don't apologize. I shouldn't have made you wait for so long."

The comfort those words gave you made more tears and sobs break their way. For nights you wished for him to just talk to you, to let you explain what happened.

"Are you alright?" he asked, breaking away from your arms slightly, just to scan your face with his eyes. "Did something happen?"

Even if time had passed, he knew you perfectly still. You nodded. "We need to talk," you muttered, looking into his eyes. "I need to talk to you."

Jeonghan nodded, the certainty he offered you in his sweet eyes made you realize that in fact, Joshua was right and you loved him too.

You weren't sure what would happen, you weren't sure of the person you would be after this conversation. But one thing you knew is that by doing this, you could offer a bit of honesty in all this mess to Jeonghan and to yourself.

You would deal with Joshua later. 

✮ author's note: hi hi hi there everyone! here it is city lights season 2, lights out! ta-da!!!

i uh, have no explanations for this. i knew i said city lights season 2 would go on hiatus, but i just couldn't resist it and i wanted to torture some people (namely v from windsor) lmao

that's it for me,

toodles

✮ STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO!! ✮

buy me coffee? 🩵

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [16]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 15 | Fic Masterlist | Part 17

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

As you entered the grand hall, discomfort painted across your features, Jongho and Eunsook trailed closely behind, exchanging concerned glances. The announcement made by the palace staff had only made the prince's intentions abundantly clear to them.

The head maid, not wanting you to feel alone, stepped up beside you to check on you, "Are you feeling alright, mistress?" She inquired. Jongho nodded in agreement from your other side, suggesting, "Yes, perhaps we can leave early if you are not feeling well."

"Miss Jang! Are you not feeling well, my lady?" Yeosang's deep voice interrupted, your eyes widening at his appearance. As you began to perform the formal bow, he quickly halted you by gently grasping your arms, "No need to be so formal with me," He said softly, "If you're feeling unwell, you can come and rest in my chambers."

Jongho and Eunsook froze at the fourth prince's suggestion, dread washing over them. They could only hope you would decline the invitation, but they knew it wasn't their place to intervene. The idea was simply inappropriate; as a married woman, retiring to another man's private chambers was scandalous. If news of this spread, it would undoubtedly tarnish your reputation and bring dishonour to the general's name.

To their relief, you didn't hesitate to shake your head, "Oh dear, no, Your Highness. Thank you for the offer, but I was simply taken aback by the grandeur of everything. It's my first time attending such a prestigious event, and perhaps I just need a moment to take it all in."

That wasn't entirely untrue, as you finally seized the opportunity to marvel at your surroundings. While your husband's estate was luxurious, it paled in comparison to the opulence of the royal palace. Palace servants bustled about, ensuring everything was flawless. However, you couldn't help but notice the absence of banquet guests, which surprised and unsettled you.

Yeosang fought hard to conceal any disappointment, maintaining a composed smile at your response, "Ah, yes, indeed. How inconsiderate of me not to offer you a tour of the palace first, especially after the delightful tour you provided me at General Park's estate. I believe it's only right for me to return the favour now."

You blinked, "B-but the banquet—"

The prince grinned, cutting you off, "As you can see, you've arrived quite early, my lady. The other guests are not here yet, so I might as well keep you entertained until the event officially begins."

The assistant and head maid were deeply uneasy about the situation unfolding before them as they watched you, left with not much of a choice, agreed unsurely to the so-called tour. It was evident to them that this must be part of Yeosang's scheme. Jongho had ensured your departure from the estate was precisely timed; you couldn't have arrived too early.

"Fantastic! Now, if you'll just come with me," His Highness beckoned as the three of you began to follow him. Just as you started to move, he turned around smugly with an additional suggestion, "Oh, actually, your staff can stay behind if they'd like. That way, we can converse more freely, just the two of us, as we did back at the general's estate. What do you say, Miss Jang?"

It took everything in Eunsook to resist the urge to firmly remind the prince that you already belonged to another.

Similarly agitated by Yeosang's persistence, Jongho silently prayed that Seonghwa had received his letter. Despite being well aware of the impropriety of distracting the general during wartime, after much consideration and discussion with the other guys, they concluded that your husband deserved to be informed of the situation.

Fortunately, you offered a reassuring smile to your two chaperones before turning to address the fourth prince, "I'm sure that would not be necessary, Your Highness. I prefer having them close just in case I require any assistance."

As they witnessed your resolute refusal of the offer, Jongho and Eunsook felt a surge of pride. Truthfully, they had been anxious since Hongjoong had confided in them about the doubts you were harbouring regarding Seonghwa. But they dared not bring it up, wary of your potential reaction. Though a part of them had worried you might be swayed by Yeosang's charms, your firm stance reassured them of your unwavering loyalty to the general.

However, they couldn't shake off the sly glint still evident in the prince's eyes. He seemed oddly pleased despite your rejection to spend time alone with him. That troubled them deeply, and the two exchanged worried glances, silently contemplating what else he could possibly have in store.

With a light chuckle, His Highness replied, "Very well then, I suppose they could come along. This way, my lady. I know a few places you'll find intriguing."

Unlike your husband's staff, you were entirely unaware of Yeosang's intentions. Even then, there was just an inexplicably ominous aura to his demeanour that unsettled you, further intensifying your longing for Seonghwa. The banquet had barely even begun, but you already felt mentally exhausted, wanting nothing more than to rely on the general as you always had.

I miss you, Park Seonghwa.

Before you could dwell on thoughts of your beloved and his well-being, you suddenly recognised the surroundings. The enchanting cherry blossom garden, where you had first met the prince, spread out before you, "Do you remember this place, my lady?" He asked, his tone soft with nostalgia, "It has become my favourite spot in all of the palace since meeting you."

"How could I ever forget, Your Highness?" You replied, momentarily causing Jongho and Eunsook's hearts to sink until you continued with a genuinely innocent smile, "This garden is the only place I've had the pleasure of visiting so far."

Although your response should have let him down, Yeosang found his heart melting at your sincerity. It only served to deepen his admiration for you, knowing that you weren't one to offer insincere compliments or put on a fake smile just because of his status. You were simply yourself, and he found that utterly captivating.

As the four of you neared one of the garden's tallest and most exquisite cherry blossom trees, you found yourself gazing upward in awe at the falling petals, taking in the breathtaking sight. The beauty of the place was undeniable, and you couldn't help but imagine spending hours strolling around and admiring the flowers if this were your home.

His Highness watched you beneath the gently falling pink blossoms, feeling his heart swell with warmth. The scene before him was like a painting, and he longed to preserve it in his memory forever. Just standing there with you, experiencing this moment, filled him with an overwhelming desire to give you everything he had. It was a new and unfamiliar feeling for him, this deep sense of affection for another person. For the first time, he found himself completely enamoured by someone's presence.

"It truly is a sight to behold, isn't it?" You nodded wordlessly in response to the prince's question, reaching out to catch some of the delicate flowers before he continued, "You know, perhaps it's not too late to change your favourite flower from lotus to cherry blossoms."

Though his words seemed simple and harmless, they carried a subtle yet unmistakable implication. This was apparent to the assistant, the head maid, and, for once, to you as well. Deep in thought, you pondered the best way to respond to his suggestion. Somehow, you sensed a deeper meaning in his words from the determined look in his eyes that were almost silently urging you to choose him.

With a soft smile, you caught a falling flower, "Thank you, Your Highness. Cherry blossoms are indeed beautiful, but I still prefer lotus flowers. You see, cherry blossoms may be stunning when they bloom, but they also fall quite fast. To me, the lotus represents endurance and resilience, as it thrives in adverse conditions and blooms beautifully despite its surroundings."

This time, you hoped the prince understood the subtle implication behind your words. The short lifespan of cherry blossoms symbolised fleeting happiness, whereas the lotus embodied strength and perseverance through difficulties—a sentiment you hoped would mirror the love shared between you and Seonghwa.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged a subtle glance, their smiles growing wider as they registered the meaning of your response.

Meanwhile, Yeosang's composure faltered ever so slightly at your polite rejection. The light in his eyes dimmed momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure, masking any hint of disappointment, "Understood, my lady," He replied with a gracious nod, "You do make a good point. Since we've already been here before, let us move on to the next location then."

As he guided you through various parts of the palace, you found yourself fascinated by the history and beauty of each location. The royal library, with its towering shelves of ancient texts, stirred a sense of awe in you as the prince shared stories of his lessons there. The astronomy tower offered a breathtaking view, and you marvelled at the cityscape from above.

In the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly prepared dishes filled the air, His Highness confessed with a mischievous grin that he often snuck in for a late-night snack. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, finding his playful side endearing.

However, as Yeosang led you past the main hall where morning assemblies with His Majesty were held, Jongho's earlier worries resurfaced. Despite the seemingly innocent nature of the tour, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him. Each step further into the heart of the palace felt like a step into unknown territory, and he feared what might happen next.

The assistant's breath caught in his throat as he realised the path the fourth prince was leading you down, the daunting sight of the palace torture chambers coming into view.

No, not this place. Anywhere but here.

In the warzone on the other side of the nation, General Officer Song grappled with his own internal conflicts as he tightly gripped the letters from Jongho and Prince Yeosang. He felt a strong reluctance to deliver them to his superior.

The truth was that General Park had sustained injuries in his recent and one of the more challenging battles. While the situation had calmed down and most of the enemy troops were either strewn lifelessly across the battlefield or had retreated to their camps, Seonghwa's injury had been kept secret to prevent causing panic within their army, following the general's direct orders.

Mingi stood in the makeshift office tent, the letters weighing heavily in his hands. His mind raced with thoughts, torn between his duty as a military officer and his concern for General Park's well-being.

On one hand, keeping the letters hidden seemed like the logical course of action. They were in the midst of a war, and any distraction for their most crucial member could be detrimental to their efforts. Having Seonghwa away from camp for personal matters could compromise their military strategy and the safety of their troops.

Yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility towards the general and his relationship with Lady Park. If he withheld this crucial information and something were to happen between you and the prince, he would bear the blame. The thought of Seonghwa's potential anguish at being kept in the dark about his wife's situation weighed heavily on him.

With no time to spare for further contemplation, a soldier from the medical team entered the tent, "Officer Song, the general's condition has stabilised. You're permitted to see him in his private tent now."

Acknowledging the news with a nod, the military strategist expressed his gratitude, "Understood. Thank you, soldier. I'll head there immediately."

Not wasting another second, Mingi made his way over to General Park's tent, his concern for his friend overriding any other thought for now. As he pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside, his heart lurched at the sight before him.

The usually formidable military commander lay in bed, his complexion pale and his once-strong demeanour replaced by one of weakness. Seonghwa's hand was clenched tightly around the bandages covering his abdomen, his expression a mixture of pain and discomfort.

"Hyung-nim," Officer Song's voice was filled with worry as he approached the bedside, "How are you feeling?"

Suppressing a wince, the general released a breathy chuckle, "I'm fine, Mingi," He reassured, though his tone lacked conviction, "I've never seen you look this bothered before. It's almost funny."

The taller man scoffed in response, "And I've never seen you in pain like this before. But this isn't funny."

Seonghwa waved off his friend's concern with a weak smile, "Don't worry, it's just a scratch," He insisted, though his tone contradicted his words, "One of those sneaky bastards on the battlefield played dead. I let my guard down for a moment, and he took advantage of it."

Mingi's eyes widened in alarm, "And he managed to graze you?"

Nodding grimly, the general replied, "Yes, it could have been worse if I hadn't reacted in time. But it's strange. The wound shouldn't hurt this much, considering it's just a graze. Perhaps it's my age catching up with me. After all, I'm not as young as I used to be," He admitted ruefully, "But it's nothing serious. Just a minor setback."

Relieved that his superior seemed to be in stable condition, the strategist decided it was best to allow his friend some much-needed rest. With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, he advised, "You should probably rest up. We can't have you bedridden for long. I'll keep watch for now."

As he moved to leave the tent, the general posed a question, stopping him abruptly in his tracks, "Wait, Mingi, did anything happen while I was being treated earlier?" The taller man froze, his hand pressing on the papers he had kept in his pocket anxiously. He debated whether to reveal the contents of the letters now or wait until Seonghwa was in a better state.

He hesitated, grappling with the weight of his decision. After a moment's pause, he opted to keep the letters from your husband. Turning to offer a strained smile to the general, he denied any incident, "No, nothing happened. Don't worry, hyung-nim."

Seonghwa nodded slowly, his brows furrowing slightly, "I see."

A heavy silence hung between them until the strategist broke it with a forced cough, "I should probably head out now."

Before he could move, the general's voice cut through the air with accusation, "Do you honestly think me a fool, Officer Song? I offered you a chance for honesty, yet you persist in deceit. I may be injured, but I am not deaf. I heard the messenger loud and clear. Now, hand me my letters."

Mingi cursed inwardly, realising his mistake in attempting to deceive the great General Park. Sputtering, he reluctantly retrieved the crumpled letters from his pocket before handing them over, "I-I'm sorry, hyung-nim... I didn't mean to—"

Seonghwa shook his head in disbelief, snatching the papers from his friend's grasp, "I know you only did what you thought was right, just as you always do. But we both know you're a dumbass when it comes to anything outside of war strategising."

The taller man sighed as he observed the general's expression darkening further with each word he read from both letters. His fists clenched tightly as he digested the contents of the prince's letter, the paper tearing at the edges from his grip.

This son of a—

Jongho's prayers seemed to be answered as his master finally received his letter, but merely reading it wouldn't be enough to fix any of the damage the fourth prince was about to inflict.

As you gazed at the looming building ahead, an odd sense of dread filled your stomach, signalling that it probably wasn't a place any of you should be near. Yeosang's grin only heightened your apprehension, "Do you know what this place is, my lady?" His question struck fear into the assistant, who now realised the prince's strategy. Casting an anxious glance at Eunsook, his eyes conveyed the hopelessness of the situation. Previously confident in your faithfulness to your husband, they now harboured doubts.

Blinking rapidly, you croaked out, "I'm afraid I'm not too sure, Your Highness. But perhaps we should head back to the hall; we've been gone for a while now."

The prince shook his head dismissively, "You're always so thoughtful, my lady, but the banquet can wait. Come on, aren't you curious? This is a place General Park frequents. Surely, you'd be interested to learn what he does here." Your blood ran cold in an instant, sensing the conversation was taking a dangerous turn.

"I'm sure Assistant Choi has become quite familiar with this place by now, haven't you? You're always here to pick the general up after he finishes his sessions." Yeosang remarked, amused, as he observed the younger man struggling to respond.

Smirking, he went on, "Welcome, Miss Jang, to the palace torture chambers. I thought it'd be enlightening to show you where your... husband typically conducts important duties. You must have been curious about his activities during his working hours."

The revelation hit you like a tidal wave, freezing you in place. This was where your family had suffered, where Seonghwa had overseen their punishments, as San had explained. The weight of the truth settled heavily on your shoulders, sending a shiver down your spine as horror and disbelief mingled within you.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged a look filled with desperation. They silently prayed for some miracle to whisk them away from this awful place. Oh, how they wished their master could appear now, but they knew it was nothing more than a wistful hope.

Your silence seemed to fuel Yeosang's discourse, "We should be thankful for General Park's services to the nation, of course," He continued, his tone dripping with faux gratitude, "Only the lord knows how many war criminals and spies he had tortured behind these walls to protect us."

Feigning contemplation, he added, "And if I remember correctly, he was also here when the Jang family underwent their physical punishments. Though I'm sure the general must have already informed you of that," He glanced at Eunsook, who lowered her head, her eyes shut tightly in fear of your reaction, "Especially how he made sure to spend extra hours with the former minister post-punishment."

Extra hours...?

Your heart plummeted to the lowest pit of your stomach as his words sank in. Did your husband do more than just supervise the punishments? The implications gnawed at your mind, and a thousand questions raced through your head. What else could Seonghwa have possibly done to your father? Dread washed over you in waves as you struggled to comprehend the truth behind the prince's insinuations.

« Preview of Part 17 »

"General Park! Where is he?!" The military doctor rushed into the main tent in a panic after realising Seonghwa was nowhere to be found in his private tent.

Mingi looked up from his documents, "My apologies, I should have informed you earlier to prevent any unnecessary alarm. The general mentioned feeling slightly better and had left camp to return home briefly for a family emergency."

"He left?! Is he making the journey back to the city alone?" The physician squeaked, eyes widening in alarm.

Officer Song nodded, his brows furrowed, "Yes, doc. What's wrong? You're scaring me."

Gulping nervously, the doctor retrieved the dagger used by the enemy earlier, "We found it unusual for such a small wound to affect the general so severely. We ran some tests on the weapon and..."

Mingi began to rise from his seat immediately, anxiety was evident in his expression, "Tell me, what did you find?"

"This dagger was laced with poisonous viper venom. It's potent enough to cause damage to his internal organs. He's lucky it was just a graze, but even so, we can't be sure how much venom has entered his system. He requires thorough treatment to prevent the poison from spreading."

Shit, shit, SHIT.

I AM SO SORRY! Okay, I know I said there would be drama in this part, and believe me when I say this, I fully intended to include it in this part in the beginning... but I am planning to end the story in part 20. So, after careful calculations, seems like it's only right to put the climax in part 17.

Also, it's official! There will be spinoff stories for the other members, I'm so excited! I hope you are too! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

a singer!reader where she writes a super sexy song and the fans are going crazy because she's never written a song like that. she goes to some talk shows bc she has to promote the album of the song, and they ask her about it and if its about her boyfriend tom blyth!!!!

Never be like you || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

A/n: lowkey need Gracie to do a cover for this song bc I feel like her voice would suit it sm and I wanna see her do this type of vibe!!

Warnings: fem!reader, swearing

Wc: 719

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

“Our next guest, is a Grammy nominee for best new artist, performing her single never be like you for the first time, please welcome Y/n Abrams!” Jimmy Fallon announces as the crowd erupts in cheers. You take the stage, the crowd hushed in anticipation. The spotlight illuminates you, clad in a sultry ensemble that's a departure from your usual style

“What I would do, to take away, this fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain,” Your fingers wrap around the mic as you close your eyes. “Now I’m fucked up, and I’m missing you, He’ll never be like you,” The atmosphere shifted, and you began to sing the sultry lyrics in a way that surprised even your most dedicated fans. The audience was captivated, and whispers of amazement spread like wildfire.

“I’m only human, can’t you see? I made, I made a mistake, please just look me in my face, tell me everything’s okay,” Your hands, usually strumming a guitar, were instead in your hair as you tilt your head back almost in a sexual manner. The crowd, initially unsure how to react, soon becomes entranced by your unexpected venture into this new style.

The song's sensual undertones echoed through the venue, and you felt an electrifying connection with the audience. This style of song was something you’ve never done before. That’s why you really enjoyed producing it. It brought you out of your comfort zone; a deliberate choice to express a different side of yourself.

"How do I make you wanna stay? hate sleeping on my own, missing the way you taste," your voice, rich and alluring, wraps around the lyrics with a sensuality that catches everyone off guard.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes," a smile naturally played on your lips as you delivered that line, intentionally fixing your gaze on the camera, fully aware of Tom's watchful eyes. The lyrics, tailored to hit home with your boyfriend, spoke directly to his captivating deep blue eyes – the kind that always left you spellbound, and no amount of time together could diminish the flutter of nerves they induced.

"like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why, now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you, he'll never be like you," Backstage, Tom can't tear his eyes away. The way you command the stage, blending vulnerability with a newfound confidence, stirs something within him.

He had heard snippets of the song before its release, but experiencing it live brings a visceral intensity he hadn't anticipated. The lyrics, once a private exchange, now echo through the venue, leaving everyone captivated.

As the performance concludes, the audience erupts into applause, their astonishment turning into admiration. Tom approached with a grin, desire in his eyes, expressing his awe at your unexpected and alluring rendition. "That was incredible," he whispers, pulling you into a passionate embrace.

Word spreads like wildfire. Fans, accustomed to your previous style, can't believe the transformation. Social media buzzes with speculation, theories swirling that the song must be about someone special.

In a promotional interview, the host, with a sly grin, asks the question on everyone's mind. "Rumors are circulating that the inspiration behind your latest single is none other than your boyfriend, Tom Blyth. Care to shed some light on that?"

A coy smile played on your lips as you glance at the crowd, then back to the interviewer. "My supporters sure are smart, huh?" You giggle softly to yourself. "But, yes, it is about Tom."

"It's quite different to my usual style, but it was very fun to compose," You smile. The revelation sends shockwaves through your fanbase. Speculation turns into fervent curiosity, and they dissect the lyrics for clues about your relationship with Tom. Social media explodes, and you find yourself at the center of a newfound spotlight.

Tom, for his part, embraces the attention with good humor. During his interviews for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," fans playfully tease him about being the muse behind your provocative song. He takes it all in stride, admitting with a smile that he's flattered by the attention.

"So, Tom, we've all heard your girlfriend's new song 'Never be like you' and everyone knows it's about you. What are your thoughts on it?" the interviewer inquired, a playful glint in their eyes.

Tom chuckled nervously, a light blush creeping up his cheeks. "Well, it's certainly an interesting experience," he replied with a sheepish smile. "I'm flattered, to be honest. My girl is incredibly talented, and she expresses herself very well through her music, something I admire,"

As he spoke, his castmates, Rachel and Hunter, couldn't help but interject with mischievous grins. "Oh, come on, Tom! 'Interesting experience'? That song is steamy!" Rachel teased, eliciting laughter from Hunter.

Tom rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. "Alright, alright. Maybe 'interesting' is an understatement. But seriously, I'm incredibly proud of her. She was worried her new style of music not being a hit, but she nailed it."

The banter continued, but beneath the teasing, there was a genuine camaraderie. Tom's supportive words reflected not only his admiration for his girlfriend's artistic expression but also his pride in you.

As your relationship becomes a public fascination, the dynamics of your performances shift. Fans attend your shows not just for your music but to catch glimpses of the chemistry they've read about online. The narrative surrounding your love story becomes intertwined with your artistic identity.

Tom's become a regular at your shows, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you own the stage. Your private affair has gone all public, and now it's like you and him are this dynamic duo everyone's rooting for. The crazy twist in your music style? It's like you cracked open a whole new world for yourself, and at the same time, it's made you and Tom this inseparable couple in the eyes of your fans.

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Supreme Empress

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.

Word Count: 11k+ 🧍‍♀️💀

Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.

This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.

And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.

It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.

The Sith Lord.

Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.

The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.

I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.

I close my eyes and await his judgement.

I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.

"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.

My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.

I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.

I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"

"My empress-"

My stomach rolls.

"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."

A shiver runs down my spine.

No, this can't be real.

My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.

It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."

"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."

I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.

I was his b--

My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.

I feel my eyes begin to water.

Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.

"Is everything prepared?"

"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.

"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."

I was--

I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.

I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.

I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.

It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"

My breath hitches, "let her go!"

His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."

I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"

He does nothing.

"LET. HER. GO!"

He seems to be debating my words.

I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"

I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.

A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."

Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.

I am far beyond perturbed.

I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.

Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?

Careful, bride.

I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.

Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.

"... my empress?" one servant calls.

"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."

And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.

"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.

"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."

My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"

"My pretty bride."

I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?

I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.

And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.

The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.

And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.

Who in the world were you?

"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."

I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?

I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.

And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.

My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.

Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?

My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.

My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."

So, we when go this way.

We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.

And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.

He waved his hands once and the doors opened.

There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.

I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.

I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.

And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.

My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.

I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."

I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.

Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."

My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."

Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."

I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.

He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.

I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.

"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"

My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.

"-to be my wife."

My empress.

I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.

Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."

And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.

Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.

I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"

I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.

Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.

Shhhhhhh.

He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.

The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.

I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.

Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."

My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.

"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"

I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.

I don't know what happens after that.

I think I'm having a panic attack.

Am I having a panic attack?

Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?

I'm not having a panic attack.

I'm not having a panic attack.

"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.

All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.

He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."

I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.

Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"

He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."

I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.

I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.

I shiver when he calls out my name.

"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."

Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.

I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."

I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"

I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."

A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?

I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.

I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"

Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."

And then, he releases me and walks away.

I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.

I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-

I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.

Silent. I have to be silent.

The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.

I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.

"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.

My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.

I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.

Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."

I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.

I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.

"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.

I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."

I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."

I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."

The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.

And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.

Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."

I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."

He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.

I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-

"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."

I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.

But I do know you.

I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.

"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."

And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.

"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."

My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"

He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.

I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."

"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.

I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."

Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."

And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.

I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.

I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.

I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.

I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.

I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."

"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."

I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.

I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."

He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."

I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."

"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."

When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."

A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."

That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.

"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"

"No, I really-"

I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.

"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.

He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.

"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."

I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."

He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."

He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.

I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.

Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."

I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.

I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-

"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."

I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.

Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.

I hear him chuckle.

The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-

I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.

I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.

The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."

Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."

Dammit, Rezba.

I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.

My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."

Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."

I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.

The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.

I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.

"Fuck."

My bride.

I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.

"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.

I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.

Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."

I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.

"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.

I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."

The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.

Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.

I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.

The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.

"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.

Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"

"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."

I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.

I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."

I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.

I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."

He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."

My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"

I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"

My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.

My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.

Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"

"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.

His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."

I scoff.

"I am not the monster you make me out to be."

I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.

I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.

I clench my jaw.

My willpower is not very effective.

"I am your husband," he mutters.

I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."

A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."

His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.

I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"

His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"

"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"

My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."

I suck in a sharp breath.

"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."

My expression drops where his softens.

"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."

"Kylo-"

"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."

My breath begins to strain.

He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."

Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"

"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."

My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.

"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."

I begin to tremble against him.

He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"

"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"

He stills.

"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"

"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"

He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."

Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."

If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.

I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.

I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."

I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.

"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.

This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.

"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.

"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"

Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."

"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"

"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.

Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"

"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.

Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."

"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.

I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.

Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.

Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."

I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Kylo straightens.

"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"

His expression hardens.

"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."

"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"

I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"

I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."

I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.

"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.

I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.

"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."

His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"

Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.

I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-

I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.

Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"

I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"

My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.

"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."

I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.

He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."

When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."

I clench my jaw.

"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."

I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.

"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."

A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."

He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.

He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.

It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.

And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.

It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.

But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.

He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-

I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.

He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."

I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"

"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.

"Kylo..."

I suck in a breath when he says his name.

"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.

"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.

Kylo stills.

No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."

Kylo waits.

He debates my words.

I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"

The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.

I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.

"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."

"Get out of my fucking thoughts."

"... ... I don't want to."

I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.

"Your mind is an oasis to me."

I say nothing.

"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."

I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

"I'm telling you what-"

"I'm done with this conversation."

I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.

"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers

"I'm not cold."

"I know."

"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.

I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."

I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.

"I can hold you," he mutters softly.

I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.

"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.

Shut up, get out of my head.

He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"

Yes.

"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"

I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.

"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."

"Shut up," I whimper.

I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.

"Face me," he mutters, "coward."

I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."

He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."

"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."

"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"

"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.

Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."

"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"

He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."

When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.

This is my final straw.

I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.

Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.

He doesn't fight back.

Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.

I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.

Why didn't he fight back?

Why isn't he fighting back?

He wanted me to kill him?

He wanted me to kill him?

I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.

Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.

"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.

I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.

Shhhhhh.

He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.

I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.

I would never damage you.

I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.

Not unless you want me to.

Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.

My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"

"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"

Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.

He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."

I grit my teeth tightly.

"Beg me," he groans, "beg."

I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.

He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."

My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."

Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.

I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.

Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.

"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.

I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."

"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.

My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.

He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.

I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.

His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.

Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."

My throat tightens.

"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.

I suck in a breath and call out his name.

He releases a sharp one as he says mine.

I call out his name.

He responds with mine.

I hesitate.

He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."

I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."

He nods, "louder."

"Kylo-"

"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."

"Make me yours, please."

Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being

I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.

He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."

He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.

I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.

He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.

We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.

Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.

I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.

I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.

When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.

I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.

I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.

I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.

"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.

He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"

I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.

Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."

His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.

He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"

I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."

He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.

"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.

"Kylo."

He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.

I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.

I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.

I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.

Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.

I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."

He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.

Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.

I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.

Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.

"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."

I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.

Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.

I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."

I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.

We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.

"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."

"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."

In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.

I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.

And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.

As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.

When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.

"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.

I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.

"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."

I bite my lip and lean my face into his.

"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."

I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.

His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."

[star-suh]

Into the Wild

Choi Beomgyu x Male Reader

cw: fantasy au, top forest spirit beomgyu, bottom knight reader, some angst, happy ending?, fluffy smut, riding, bareback, nipple play, breeding.

an: there’s mention of blood and guts but just at the beginning.

—

the war of 1000 years was an ongoing conflict between two powerful nations. blood, guts, rusty swords and shields were scattered across the landscape, you could see the destruction caused by it everywhere you looked.

yn was forced to join the army of the white knights, whose purpose was to kill the last ones standing in the battle grounds but little did they know that it was all an ambush made by their rivals. screams and liters of blood filled the ground while a badly injured yn managed to escape. he went deep inside the forest not caring if he gets lost, anything would be better than die by the hands of another evil human. with the remaining strength he has he manages to get closer to a river of fresh water, wanting to drink some of it he crawls, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind him. his fingers mere centimeters away from the running water stopped its movements, yn fainted there. his low breathing indicated he didn’t have much time left, at least he could die in a quiet, peaceful and beautiful landscape…

“AHHHHH” yn woke up screaming and then letting himself fall in what feels like a fluffy cloud, “where am i?” he asks to himself, looking around to what it seems it’s a cozy cabin, with dim lit candles that smell amazing “what’s this place?” he stood up from the bed feeling a stinging pain on the side of his torso, seeing a piece of cloth wrapped around it. “you’re awake” a voice said, coming from another room. yn slowly walks towards there where he finds out a beautiful man with shoulder-length long hair with some highlights to it, wearing a white shirt with his face adorned with a cute blush. he looked so ethereal that yn just stood there with his mouth open “close it or a bug will enter on it” the mysterious man laughs quietly.

“sit there, i made some food”, yn obeyed waiting for the bowl of hot soup the man just prepared, “enjoy” he blurted out while sitting across the table to eat some soup too. “where am i?” yn asked. “my house” he replied, “deep in the forest, no one has ever come near here… except from you” he lifts the spoon towards his mouth while making direct eye contact with yn “you were so injured so i helped you a little”.

“thank you so much” yn thanked, “i thought i would die out there…” he sighed. “that’s what war leaves behind”, the man added. “b-but i didn’t want to” yn quickly replies “i was forced to” sadness and guilt washing over him. “they forced you huh? i’m familiar with that”.

“what do you mean?” yn asked back but the other didn’t answer, “the name’s beomgyu”.

as some way to return the favor yn stayed some days to help beomgyu with some home chores like going to collect some fruits, cutting the woods with an axe that by the way beomgyu could spend hours just looking how yn’s strong arms hold the axe and how the sweat ran down his body ‘so hot’ he thinks.

days turned into weeks and weeks into a month. their relationship went to a friendship to something more serious, the tension was there but none of them wanted to break it until one day, after drinking some fruit wine they got drunk and their emotions came out.

it started with beomgyu’s lips ghosting over yn’s who was desperate to feel the contact, he made the first move, kissing beomgyu with burning passion. he tried to get the dominance but beomgyu took it from him easily. beomgyu swallowed yn’s whimpers, caused by the first playing with his nipples, “it feels so good” he moans “i want more” and beomgyu nodded.

slowly they manage to discard their clothes with their lips still attached to each other “i can’t get enough of this” beomgyu says, “me neither” the other responds.

beomgyu guided yn towards the bed in where they fall and laughed. beomgyu went down while leaving a trail of kisses on yn’s body, every touch from beomgyu feels like a pleasurable burning, something that yn craved and he was getting now. beomgyu puts yn’s shaft on his mouth and sucks it, making sure to not leave a part unsucked. “so good beom” yn whimpers hiding his red face with his forearm. “is this making you feel good?” he asks and yn nods “then tell me if this feels good too” he kissed yn’s balls and buried his tongue on yn’s hole, drawing a surprised grunt from him “shit! it feels amazing” his moans growing louder and constant. after some more sucking beomgyu stand in all fours towering over yn’s quivering body “are you ready?” he asks, saliva smeared around his mouth “yeahh” he says “i want you”.

beomgyu’s shaft slowly opened yn’s walls, “so tight” he grunts, the back and forth movement making yn feel like he was in heaven, in a paradise. yn grabbed beomgyu by the neck and pulled him towards him so they could share another kiss. beomgyu lay down and let yn ride him, his ass wrapping his dick so perfectly, it was like it was made for just him. beomgyu played with his nipples, throwing his head back due to the immense pleasure, it was overwhelming. “if you keep doing that i might come inside you” beomgyu says worriedly in between groans, “then it means i’m doing it the right way” yn cockily replies with a smug smile.

yn hips were moving on his own at this point, he loved the way beomgyu feels inside him, he wants more, it was a pleasure he could not deny to himself. on the other side beomgyu hasn’t feel this way since so long, a mix of emotions clouding his mind. yn moved his hips to met beomgyu’s sloppy thrusts, “please beom i want it in me” yn started to beg and how can one deny that pleasure to such a cute dickrider?. beomgyu hugged him by the waist accelerating his pace, his balls slapping against yn’s ass “fuck yeah” yn smiles, tongue out and eyes rolled back. his dick spurting cum everywhere on the bed and sheets, “it’s my turn now. be ready” few sloppy thrusts later and yn’s gushy hole was filled with thick cum, lots and lots of it filling him up to the brim. “i feel so full” yn tiredly says hugging beomgyu while playing with his long hair. “i haven’t felt this way for so long… thanks yn” beomgyu kisses his forehead and falls asleep too.

war is over finally so yn decides it’s time to go back to his town and let everyone know that he was okay, “wait for me please beom, i’ll be back, i promise”. “it’s ok, i’ll always be here don’t worry” yn said a last goodbye and left but wondering why beomgyu doesn’t live in a town.

everyone that was still alive cheered for yn coming back alive to the town. he then goes to the cemetery to pay a visit to his dead parents, who died because of the war some years ago, a situation that some knight took advantage of to put yn in the white knights rows.in the cemetery was some kind of memorial for the ones who died in the war, yn curiously looked at it when something caught his attention, he felt surprised and sad and ran away.

“beomgyu, beomgyu” he yells when he arrived to the man’s cabin, “what happened?” he said anguished. “you.. you..” he pants unable to form a word. “...so you found it out..” a sad smile creeping over his face, “i was a knight like you before” he starts his explanation “they forced me to join their rows too.. just like you. bastards” tears forming on his and yn’s eyes. “i fought with all my strength but i realized it was pointless, i will die on the battlegrounds anyway” he wipes the single tear that rolled down his face “just like you i escaped towards the forest but the enemies found me and wel” he pauses “they killed me here”. “beom i’m sorry” yn gets closer to him and hugs him, “then are you a ghost?” he curiously asks. “uhm-uhm, so nature force or deity i don’t really know, brought me back to life to guard this forest”. “so this is why you don’t leave in a town”, “that’s right” he laughs trying to put the sad feelings aside, “i’m sorry for not telling you before”, once again yn hugs beomgyu tightly “guess there will be two of us guarding this forest now” he said kissing beomgyu right after, “but what about you yn, you deserve to be happy out there, with people like you” beomgyu worriedly spoke. “i’m happy here, with you. you are my happiness” his dazzling smile making beom’s heart flutter, the blush on his face becoming even redder “you’re so corny” he tries to disguise his shyness, “i know you love it when i’m like that” both laughed while beom hits jokingly the other’s shoulder.

the couple has lived happily since that day, with yn waiting to meet that nature force with the hopes of being turned into a forest spirit and live forever with his loved one.

[terrahlee-cup]

So SOMEONE got me excited about an AU. I wonder who could possibly have done that. @mousermayhem

"Get. Out." The words had him scrambling to his feet despite the way his vision was swimming. They'd been kind enough to drop him by a door at least, so he didn't have to go far to obey the order. A glance back revealed just what he'd expected: cold eyes without a hint of sympathy or remorse. So, he made his way through the tunnels, his only company the trail of blood he left behind.

He had nowhere to go. This was probably how he died. Looking at the deep gouges in his thigh wasn't exactly stopping precious blood from slowly pooling on the floor. Thinking back to what had started all of this, maybe there was… something he could try. If his own counterpart was so willing to help people he had statues in the city then maybe...

It was a hellish trek, every last bit of his mind focused on just. Getting. There. At least his sense of direction hadn't failed him yet. Panting, claws digging into a building's wall, but he could see it. His last chance. If they decided to kill him, leave him to his fate, he wouldn't be able to make it anywhere else even if he had another place to try. He'd never been particularly lucky, but maybe just this once. Maybe just this one time.

Dragging his feet over the last bit of distance, he ground his teeth against the fire that lanced through him at every step. He was almost there. He could feel bones grinding every time he shifted his weight. He could rest soon. The adrenaline was gone.

His hand missed the pager several times as he slowly lost the fight against gravity. Legs shaking from the effort of holding himself up, panic rising until, -click-. He made it. He… made it. Mission completed, he let himself slump to the ground. His part was done. He'd never really believed in an afterlife, but maybe it would be nice. Somewhere… warm.

…

…

…

Donnie jumped, the buzzing sound unwelcome so late at night. Not even Mikey seemed pleased by the noise, squinting at the small screen by the door like it had personally insulted him. It was eventually Leo who sighed and went to check who was at the building's entrance. The extended silence that followed finally drew Donnie and Mikey to their brother's side, the image that greeted them handily explaining his shock. "Uh, do I need glasses or is that Dark Raph just… sitting outside?"

"No, you're seeing it right, unless we all need our eyes checked."

"Donnie, go warn Cody and Serling, we need to see why he's here." With a nod Donnie turned to find the teen and his caretaker, leaving Leo and Mikey to watch the screen.

"He's not doing too much Leo… dya think he's asleep?" Leo shook his head.

"I don't know, Mikey. I'm worried they're just trying to lure us outside… I wouldn't put something like this past them."

"But we just fought them earlier, seems kinda quick." Leo just shrugged. Donnie returned a few moments later, so they headed down to the main entrance. When Mikey opened the door all three turtles were prepared for an attack. Instead, silence greeted them. Nothing happened. Looking to the side revealed Raph's counterpart slumped against the wall with- Donnie gasped, quickly kneeling beside the unconscious turtle to check for a pulse. The growing pool of blood on the concrete was much more obvious up close than it had been over the camera.

"He's alive, but he's not doing well. We need to get him inside. If this is meant to be some kind of trap… they've gone way too far." Getting the turtle inside and up the the penthouse ended up a quiet affair. Even Mikey stayed focused when he knew just how serious the situation was. Thankfully robots did most of the medical work. Unfortunately, that left the turtles themselves to stare at the list of injuries the bots' scans uncovered.

"This wasn't a trap, Leo. They aren't… I don't think they'd be this cruel for something they planned together." Donnie stared at the list in horror. Multiple fractures, a dislocated hip, deep gouges in his thigh and tail— it seemed more like the story of a captive trying to escape than their dark counterparts trying to trick them.

"What I don't understand is what would make them do something like this. It doesn't make sense." They had several questions and no answers, at least until the other turtle woke up. 

"I'm uh, going to get him some blankets. I'll be back." With that said Mikey slipped out of the room. Donnie watched him leave before turning back to the oldest,

"One of us is going to have to give some blood, by the way." Leo sighed.

They were playing games the next afternoon when Donnie finally got the ping that Dark Raph was waking up. Mikey was gone before he even had a chance to say anything, and the older siblings shared an amused look before getting up to follow him.

Mikey was waiting just inside the medbay, only going into the room proper when Donnie and Leo caught up. Most of the larger turtle was hidden under the frankly impressive number of blankets the youngest had brought in the night before, but the tip of his tail that was visible was flicking. Donnie took a spot in front of the computer, while Leo and Mikey hovered nearby to wait.

It took a few minutes, but eventually bleary, pale yellow eyes opened. There were several slow blinks before eyes widened and the turtle shot up, hissing when he strained his injuries. Instantly Mikey was at his side guiding him to lay back down, whereas Leo and Donnie's hands had gone to their weapons. "Woah, careful! You're okay dude. Take it easy!" When Mikey wasn't attacked, the other turtle actually listening to the instructions, the older two slowly relaxed.

When he kept panting, eyes squinted from pain, Donnie got up to give their brother's counterpart some extra pain medication. Now that the situation seemed to be sinking in, Dark Raph calmed down significantly. "You… helped."

"Of course we did! We couldn't just leave you out there like that." At that the other turtle huffed, completely melting into the nest of blankets. Mikey grinned, "Comfy right? This place has so many of them and they're so soft." Dark Raph hummed and gave a small nod in reply.

"He's probably going to pass out again with those meds kicking in, Mikey. Give him some space, okay?" Mikey made a show of pouting about it, but did back away so that Donnie could coax the turtle into drinking something before he fell back asleep. After readjusting the blankets Donnie turned to look back at the computer. "He's doing a bit better at least… he might stay awake next time? I can't make any promises, though."

"Hey, we know he isn't going to attack us now too! He didn't fight with me at all."

"That might just be the drugs, Mikey."

[softsan]

˚ 🔪⊹ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈: 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Hongjoong, Former Doctor!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Opposite sides, Old Rivalries, Betrayal, Eventual Smut.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You were the eldest daughter of the infamous Mafia kingpin ' The Crocodile'. You had managed to crave a successful, ordinary life for yourself as a physician, however, your world is turned upside down when your father's men decide they'd prefer you to rule in your brother's stead. You were now in hiding trying to avoid the hit your brother had placed on your head. Whilst in hiding you accidently come across a wounded man, and nurse him back to health. Unbeknownst to you, you had just aided your father's number one enemy, the great dragon Hongjoong.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Drowning, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

You took a deep breath, your lungs expanding to their full capacity. You came forth, your heels clicking against the marble tiles. Their eyes watched you like hawks, observing your every move.

They’d eat you alive if they sensed the most minuscule amount of fear... You didn’t care to admit it, but, in more ways than one, you were your father’s daughter. And like your father, The Crocodile, you wouldn’t buckle nor bend.

You stepped in front of the podium, your eyes hardening with resolve, “Lieutenants, soldiers, engineers, and drug lords, I welcome you to our humble abode.”

There was a slow clap that echoed from the audience. Your eyes momentarily flickered to your younger sister Heejin, sitting behind her was Hyuntae, your antagonistic brother.

You were the eldest out of the three, which brought hostility between you and your brother. Your father had always intended for Hyuntae to be his successor—believing a male figurehead to be the idealist of options. And you were perfectly content with this too, as you had no desire for the perilous life of a mobster.

However, some of your father’s lieutenants thought otherwise. Hyuntae was terribly impulsive, explosive, and sadistically vengeful making him a terrible candidate to lead others. You were the Crocodile’s firstborn, and they believed you ought the be the rightful heir to their organization instead of Hyuntae.

You addressed the room of heads, your speech, and your confidence faultless. Hyuntae further writhed in his seat, growing all the more infuriated as you won over more of the crowd.

“As per our system, the annual growth will continue—”

A loud gunshot erupted, the sound deafening your ear. You stood, stunned, not comprehending what was happening around you.

‘Y/N!’ Your sister Heejin desperately yelled aloud.

Blood seeped your blouse. You stared down at your chest, your fingers brushing against the crimson stain, which was growing bigger by the minute.

Your legs gave out from underneath you, your vision turned ablur.

I’ve been shot? It still didn’t register.

The last thing you recalled was the agonizing screams from your sister before darkness consumed your conscious mind.

Present.

The sea breeze held a terrible bite. It cast a cold front that left those in its wake with frostbitten fingers and toes. Hongjoong tried to keep his composure, his teeth violently chattering as his limbs spasmed in the wintery depth of the bay.

The night had an eerie hold on Hongjoong—a foreboding feeling that tonight's affairs would end up in shambles. In foresight, he should have trusted his gut and followed his intuition, but alas, he'd been foolish to underestimate The Crow's subordinates.

Gunshots rang through the air, its blinding flashes flaring into the pitch of darkness. Hongjoong dived deeper into the chilling abyss, avoiding the numerous bullets that penetrated the water's surface.

He knew he wouldn't last long in the sub-zero temperatures, the risk of hypothermia heightening with prolonged exposure. He kicked his protesting legs with all his might, forcing his arms to swim ahead.

To Hongjoong's favor, The Crow's sea cruiser hadn't traveled far from the marina—where the other gentry docked their sea vessels. After a tireless swim, he finally made it to the boat's staircase. He grumbled and cursed as he dragged his wounded torso across the cold aluminum.

What am I to do now? His forearms gave out, exhaustion getting the better of him. Hongjoong rolled onto his back, grasping his arms around himself as he shook uncontrollably.

Don't tell me this is where I die. He thought bitterly in disbelief.

Hongjoong was in a foreign enclave. He had no standing nor command in these parts. Up North, he was regarded as a king, the infamous and the only 'The Dragon'.

Even in the unlikely case, someone had stumbled upon his injured self and pitied him enough to take him to the hospital. Hongjoong would be nothing less than a sitting duck. His enemies in the masses would come out of every nook and cranny seeking to finish him off for good.

There has to be another way out of this... He dwelled, his eyelids beginning to droop. This isn't how I'm supposed to die. 

You groaned, stretching your neck side to side. You had, had another strenuous shift at the beachside resort, which was located not far from the marina.

You had been posted in the restaurant as a waitress, flipping tables and serving large drunken parties of rich socialites who had returned to their yearly absorbent lifestyles by the bay.

You hated summer for this particular reason. The once sleepy township was now overrun by intoxicated, rich folks. They had no filter and had an endless list of demands. They threw around their wealth, expecting everyone to bend to their behest, all the while looking down upon the town's local residents.

You took a restless walk down the beach, your shoes in your hands. You stared at the sea's undisturbed pandemonium, waves dark as the sky above violently crashing into the rocks on the shore.

Your feet sunk into the damp sand as you kept a safe distance. You'd only stroll to the pier and back. After a long demanding shift, it was part of your routine to walk beside the water and wind down.

As you stepped closer to the wooden length that extended out to the ocean. You caught sight of a dark figure. 

It couldn't be. You squinted your eyes, trying to get a better look. Is that a body?

You kicked your feet, taking off in the direction of the lifeless mass. Your heart pounded the closer you got, adrenaline running through your veins.

A handsome man laid on his back, his eyes painfully scrunched shut, while his breathing labored. You quickly checked the skin of his forehead with the back of your hand. Not only was he pale and colorless, but he was cold to the touch.

You checked his pulse, placing two fingers against his neck, below his jaw, and where his carotid artery ought to be. His heart rate was slow and lethargic, a factor that contributed to your diagnosis of hypothermia.

Furthermore, as you examined the man, you noted the blood soaked into his tee shirt. You lifted the bottom, revealing a nasty gunshot wound that had penetrated the side of his abdomen. Fortunately, the wound didn't seem too serious on first inspection, hypothermia being your bigger concern.

"Can you sit up for me?" You gently asked.

Hongjoong stirred at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You helped him upward, quickly stripping off your jacket and putting it onto him. You had every intention to take off his wet clothes, but first, you had to get him off the pier and somewhere you could treat him more effectively.

As you zipped up the jacket, you noticed the faint outline of a dragon tattoo on the man's chest. It peaked from the white material, which had gone almost transparent when wet.

He's one of The Dragon's men. Your mouth quivered, shocked at the revelation.

The country you resided in was split into five notable territories, each belonging to one of the notorious mafia families.

There was The Bull, The Crow, The Jaguar, The Crocodile, and lastly, The Dragon.

You were painfully aware this bay and township belonged to The Crow. Hence the appearance of one of The Dragon's men was so astounding. He shouldn't have been here. In fact, his very presence placed him and you who had aided him in terrible danger.

I can't just leave someone to die. You grappled. That goes against the medical oath I swore.

You pulled up the hood of your jacket in an attempt to obscure the man's face. You then roped one of his arms around your shoulders and dragged him back to the beach and eventually to your car, which had been parked in the restaurant's parking lot. 

The drive to your shabby apartment felt like an entity. Finally, you reached your destination, the man in your back seat slipping in and out of consciousness.

As preferable as it would have been to take him to the hospital, you knew how dangerous it would have been for him. As soon as anyone caught a glimpse at that dragon tattoo of his, he'd for sure be forsaken. He'd be more likely to leave the hospital in a body bag than to receive any medical treatment. This left you with little option but to take him in yourself.

You set him down on your bed, and immediately with a pair of scissors, you cut off his damp clothing. You dug out an abundance of towels and blankets from your cupboard, warming them with a hairdryer before applying them on and around his head, neck, and chest.

Next, you headed to the kitchen to boil some water on the stove. You filled one mug and used the rest of the boiling liquid to fill some spare water bottles you had lying around. You brought this all back to your room, wrapping the bottles in hand towels and positioning them against the man's body.

"Can you drink a little for me?" You encouraged, brushing away a strain of wet hair that stuck down on his cheek.

Hongjoong murmured something incoherent, slowly moving his shoulders as a sign he'd try to sit up.

"Here," You assisted him, placing your palm against the back of his head and tilting it up, "This will warm you up," You assured.

Once the man was settled and his temperature started to normalize, you shifted your focus onto his open wound. The bullet had shot clean through. Luckily, for its small caliber, it didn't inflict as much damage as a larger caliber would.

You gingerly washed the wound, and stitched and bandaged the entity of his abdomen. When you were done, you went to your bathroom to scrub your hands clean. You then searched through your stash; you didn't have too many drugs on hand, but what you did have would suffice. You continued to shuffle through your medicine cabinet, pulling out a packet of antibiotics and another packet of painkillers.

A year ago, you used to prescribe and treat patients on a daily basis...Your expression deflated as you recollected the past.

You had nearly finished your residency and were about to obtain a full-time position at the hospital until Hyuntae, your callous so-called brother, threw your world into chaos.

The life you lived, the one you had tirelessly built for yourself, was now destroyed. You'd never be able to practice medicine again, let alone be able to step foot into a hospital.

Hyuntae had left a wake of bodies behind in his attempt to rid you of your father's territory. You had been fortunate to make it out of the city with your life, even if it meant leaving everything and everyone you knew behind.

The terrible coldness had since dissipated from Hongjoong's body, leaving but a dull ache on the left side of his abdomen. In his drugged haze, his mind drifted, reminiscing on an exchange between him and trustworthy consigliere Seonghwa.

"Why have Wooyoung wed her?" Seonghwa expressed his disbelief.

"Would you have preferred I to have married her instead?" Hongjoong challenged.

Seonghwa grimaced, unquestionably uncomfortable with the subject at hand.

Hongjoong disinterestedly sat upon his ottoman, pouring himself a stiff drink and hurling it back.

"I would have preferred for none of us to find ourselves in a situation where we have to forge alliances through marriage," Seonghwa's distasted evident from his tone of voice, "But since we're stuck under such circumstances—"

Hongjoong roughly placed down his glass, the sound interrupting Seonghwa.

Seonghwa threw Hongjoon an annoyed look, "You and I both know tradition calls for the head of the organization, which in this case is you," Seonghwa exasperatedly pointed his finger at Hongjoong direction "Is to personally elope when the bride happens to be a fellow Kingpin's heir."

Hongjoong knew of the customs, and yet, stubbornly, he had no intentions of marrying himself off. He'd not accept just anyone to stand beside him, to rule as his dragon queen.

"By having one of your caporegimes, no matter how highly-revered they may be, marry in your stead. You are purposefully offending The Crocodile." Seonghwa made his last attempts to talk sense into his boss.

"My order still stands," Hongjoong dismissed, filling the glass again and placing it against his lips. He took a large gulp, the fire of the alcohol burning down his throat, "Wooyoung will be the one to marry Heejin, The Crocodile's daughter."

Hongjoong wasn't sure how many days had passed since the incident at the marina. But the one thing he was certain about was that he owed you his life.

His lethargic eyelids slowly cracked open, the light from the morning sun momentarily stunning him. He groggily inched his back off the bed to lean against the headboard.

The pain from his side protested, but Honjoong chose to ignore it, setting his sights on you. From your bedroom with the door ajar, he had the perfect view of the kitchen.

He watched as you softly sang to yourself, taking out two slices of toast from the toaster oven and quickly tossing them onto your plate to avoid burning your fingertips.

The sweet melody of your voice and the cute little shimmy you did as you cut off the crusts brought an unexpected smile to Hongjoong’s face.

It was unlike him to be so in awe of another. He wanted nothing more than to get to know you, your likes, dislikes, your darkest of dreams, and your wildest of ambitions.

NETWORKS: -​

MONI’S NOTE: This is another repost! There are fewer changes in this one but, I still hope you enjoy it! Please leave a like/reblog or comment letting me know your thoughts.

TAGLIST: If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

© softsan - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[hangesdarling]

birthday — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x fem!reader SYNOPSIS. You want your spouse's late-night birthday celebration to be special for both of you. CONTENT. Modern AU chemist Hange, suggestive themes, soft sex, not explicitly described, just flufffff WORD COUNT. 1.3k words A/N. Thinking about Hange in their late 40s is doing things to me. ANYWAY HAPPY B-DAY TO MY BELOVED

It was a cold and rainy September 5th morning when Hange thought of you out of the blue. An invading yet comforting thought amidst their research papers. They shook their head and blinked, pinching their nose to get back in focus but could find themselves smiling. It was ridiculous missing you suddenly when you spent 15 years of your marriage snuggled to their chest every night. It had been that long already, Hange thought, sighing as they left their chair to stare out of the window.

Last September 5th wasn't so rainy. Hange remembered a mellow sky, clouds tinged with sand orange as you pulled them into a lovely cake shop to get them a cake for their birthday. Hange loved the memory with you, it was quiet, there was champagne, and they were kissing you. Hange wondered what you're doing at home right now. They never got to ask since they left home early today and you were still sound asleep. 

Today, it was almost 5 PM and Hange hadn't checked their phone in hours, too immersed in their work. They pulled their eyes from the drizzle outside and checked their phone. There was one message along with an attachment from you. It said to come home early, coupled with pink hearts. When Hange clicked the picture from you, their composure almost popped off in several places. 

Hange stared at the photo, cheeks heated before a grin appeared on their face. They slid the phone back into their pocket and checked their watch. This is about the only time they'll use their privilege as the head researcher of their lab just to come home early. Whatever you're up to, Hange knows they should be at home in a minute. 

-

Hange expected the double deck cake topped with cherries, the inviting dinner, the red wine you both love and that sweet perfume you always wear on occasion. They hugged you from behind, head craning against your neck, buried in the matching scent of your lotion. You smiled, leaning them closer to you. However, as Hange's hand wandered further to your thin robe, they felt the familiar lace underneath and smiled more to themself. 

"So this is what you wanna show me after all, hm?" they whispered, nipping at your ear. 

"I just wanna do something for your birthday, hon," you faced them and wrapped your arms more comfortably around them. You lingered seconds longer to feel their warmth, their chest. "I missed you all morning."

"Silly because I did too," Hange mumbled back. They lifted their head a little. 

You smiled, "Let's eat dinner."

"My love?" 

"Hm?" 

Hange gripped your waist, placing you on the countertop in one swift motion which made you yelp. 

"Hange!" 

Hange kissed your blushing face, wrapping your legs around their waist. 

"Baby," Hange faced you, hands on the side of your thighs. "Will it upset you if I told you I can't bother with the food right now?" 

You pouted, "But I cooked your favorite."

"Tempting, but I have something else in mind right now," they smiled, loosening the ribbon of your robe, revealing the lingerie you're wearing underneath. 

"I don't remember the last time you wore this," Hange shook their head lightly and looked at you. "You said you felt silly wearing them now that we're older."

"But I know you'd like to see them again." You looked away, lips curled shyly. "Or so I hope."

"I always love them on you," Hange's voice grew more affectionate. Seeing your beautiful face, half glowed by the candlelight in a partially dark room, Hange remembered when you were both younger. You never lost the loving gaze or the bright smile that made their heart flutter the first time they sat beside you at work. Of how your love shone through even at the darkest days in the 20 years they knew you, and the 15 years of it as their wife. 

Hange wrapped their arms around you, more comfortably, holding you in a pure gesture of love and affection. They'll always come home to you, no place can ever be home without you. Nothing can offer this much boundless love or care. Even for days or weeks when they had to be away for work, even at nights when they're too exhausted to be present for you. Even when the intimacy between you wasn't as often lately because of their paperwork. You had nothing but patience and love. 

"I thought we lost that spark somehow," they admitted, pulling back to gaze softly at you. "We're not getting younger, we have less time than we often have."

You let them speak, your hand stroking their hair back as you listened. Their eyes were soft and beautiful as they always were, the faint stress lines under them were the only few signs that they had aged. 

"Turns out I just need some break," they chuckled. "It feels nice coming home early. Especially when I can have you like this."

Hange didn't want to waste the hours left on their special day. Despite your protests, they carried you to the bedroom like they always used to do. 

"We didn't even bother cleaning up the kitchen," you said between a kiss. Hange discarded your robe on a nearby chair and kissed you again, deepening it this time. 

"We can do that in the morning, or later when I wake up in the middle of the night," they said. "I extinguished the candles so don't worry about anything, okay?" 

You hummed, helping them out of their sleeve shirt. "Happy birthday, love."

"Thank you, baby."

Hange had missed the sensual touches from your hands, and their own hands kneading the softness of your breasts and thighs. They underestimated their arousal and desire for you as Hange was losing it just from your slow grinding on their thigh. Hange was fervent with desire, their kisses growing rough, their hands almost tearing the thin laces from your body. 

"I love you," they often whisper, their every kiss worships you, an old desire that never grew stale.

They missed your taste, the way you hold onto them during orgasm, the way your mouth parts and body slacken when you're riding out your high. And even in your exhausted state, you insist on giving the same release as many times as they wish. You trust them every part of you, whatever they need to get that certain level of pleasure from you. 

By the end of it, Hange slowly felt the exhaustion, their body sore in several places in ways they won't complain about. Your back was on their chests, your breasts gathered in their arms as they hugged you. You talked about the forgotten dinner, their last birthday, your last anniversary, and even what you'd do tomorrow despite knowing you're too exhausted to do so and just end up drinking tea together in the living room. 

You were being lulled to sleep, on the brink of it before the memory of your gift came back to you. Your hands felt for the box under your pillow and showed it to Hange. 

"What's this?" they muttered sleepily as they took the box.

"Open it, love."

Hange opened it with one hand, not wanting to let you go with the other until a necklace fell out. They picked it up and smiled as they saw the gray pearl tinged with blue. 

"I remembered this," they said. "On our last vacation at the beach."

"And our reservation got messed up a bit so we stayed outside for longer and I found that pearl," you added, smiling at the memory. "It was nothing special, I just thought the color would complement your work shirt."

"It was lovely," Hange kissed your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too."

It was the same love even before they admitted their love, the same love 15 years ago, last week, and yesterday. Hange didn't doubt it would change no matter how many of their birthdays come.  

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[iinumakiis]

Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)

summary: gojo satoru is your average frat boy; hosting parties, serial playboy, and somehow managing to pass his classes all the same. unfortunately for him and his normal day to day, he finds himself becoming far more interested in a new addition to his friend group: you.

pairing: gojo satoru/you

warnings: college au, slight smau inclusions, fem!reader, cussing, eventual smut, angst if you squint, gojo's a lil bit of a whore, not proofread, chapter one of multiple

a/n: decided to start a gojo fic 👹 i'm so excited for this y'all don't even knowwww. dividers by @rookthornesartistry + @cafekitsune <3

taglist: @sad-darksoul @seternic @imaddicted-b (ask to be added!)

masterlist / next chapter

Gojo stands outside of the business building, casually chatting up his most recent hookup before class. The woman wraps her well manicured fingers in her hair, toying with it, obviously flirting with a pristine grin. Which Satoru absolutely acknowledges (more so because half of her titties are out), but nonetheless pretends to be interested in anything she has to say.

Meanwhile, Shoko and Suguru show you around campus, being that you transferred in two months late from Kyoto.

"So this way is towards the business building, usually that's where at the dick-for-brains frat boys hang around-" Shoko is rudely interrupted by Suguru loudly yelling overtop of her.

"Speak of dick-for-brains frat boys: Gojo!" Suguru smiles and breaks into a steady jog, eventually meeting up with the snow haired man and clapping him on the back. "Who might this lovely specimen be?" He remarks playfully, eyeing up Gojo's newest arm candy.

His blue eyes roll instinctively, smile still plastered on his face. "This is Ayaka, the smokin' hot girl I told you I was seeing."

Shoko groans from a distance. "Looks like Gojo has another toy to play with." She spins around to face you, making your expression contort into confusion. Gently, she grabs the sides of your arms, "Whatever you do, do not fuck Gojo. He has a new girl like twice a month, and as the newbie to this city, he would feel no shame in taking advantage of your ignorance."

A frown replaces the look of confusion, your brows furrowing together. "Shoko, respectfully, I'm not really one for hookups anyways..."

She nods in response, sighing in relief. "Thank god, I cannot handle graduating being the only girl he hasn't slept with."

You laugh at her deadpan nature. "Yeah, sounds like that should be it's own personal award."

Suguru turns in you and Shoko's direction, "Come here you guys! Y/n you have to meet Gojo!"

Another groan is elicited from Shoko before she reluctantly leads the way towards the two men, Ayaka having given him a kiss and left for her class. Gojo glances at you up and down and quirks an eyebrow, something bordering on curious. He steps to meet you two, much to his own surprise and extends a hand.

"I'm Gojo Satoru, you can just call me Satoru." He says, eyes hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses, his bright smile plastered over his face.

Your hand timidly meets his and shakes, "I'm y/n, I just transferred here literally this morning." You shift your weight to one foot, already feeling too open from the way he's staring at you, but you smile back at him anyways.

The tension is thick, Shoko awkwardly shuffling beside you. Suguru is thankfully unaware of this and continues to ramble about whatever else they had managed to come up with in conversation.

Thankfully, Shoko speaks up between the two men for you, refusing to stand here and watch Gojo semi-ogle you while trying to hold a conversation. "Anyways, I'm going to finish showing y/n to the science and art departments, you two dorks can kiss or whatever it is you do."

Your wrist is enveloped by her hand as she drags you around the men and down the sidewalk, the both of you opting to ignore the protests of the duo behind you.

For some reason you can't put your finger on, you glance back towards Satoru, only to find his eyes already on you.

Satoru's eyes follow you, watching Shoko drag you to the north side of campus where the rest of the buildings were. He doesn't realize he's been tuning Suguru out the entire time, well, up until he interrupts the long haired man mid sentence.

"So does she have a phone number or....?" Satoru drags the question out, turning slightly to once again face Suguru, who's expression is one of mild annoyance.

"Yes she does, why are you asking?" He crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow, almost in an interrogating way, causing Satoru's arms to shoot up in defense.

"I just figured if she's going to be friends with both of my best friends, I might as well be her friend too. Think it'd be pretty awkward if I wasn't her friend, actually."

Suguru sighs, but can't really fight the logic. Tapping away at his phone, he sends your number to Gojo.

"Don't fuck up man, she's new."

Later that night, after finally settling into your dorm and becoming acquainted with your roommate, your phone pings.

[lemon-lime-limbo]

𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖙? | 𝖆 𝖇𝖓𝖍𝖆 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

warnings: COLLEGE AU, reader does have a female roommate, reader is a nursing major, idk probably ooc bakugou ngl, soft! bakugou, bakugou has hyperhidrosis, possible tw for medical scenarios (no needles, just mentions of stuff like that), jirou and denki are dating teehee

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

note: i typed this so fast that my fingers started locking up LMAO anyway bakugou with hyperhidrosis is my guilty pleasure i love it so much and also can u tell i took medical classes... i tried to make it accessible but also flex my knowledge. enjoy!

When your professor told you about your upcoming project a few classes ago, you sighed in annoyance. You loved being a nursing major, and medical labs came easily to you. But those labs were always done with classmates, and your professor supposed you needed to work with fresh patients, ones you hadn’t gotten accustomed to. A valid suggestion, although it then tasked you with finding six willing participants. And as one can imagine, those were few and far between, and tracking down a sixth person was proving to be much more difficult than you had hoped.

You had already done the lab on your two neighbors you shared a kitchen with, your roommate, Kyoka Jirou, and also her boyfriend, Denki, who was just happy to be there. However, you were still one short. Denki offered to ask his friends to help, and although you were grateful, you couldn’t imagine any of them would be willing to be a test subject for a stranger, and you can’t say you would feel much differently in their position, so you declined. Of course, you could always fake it and just make up random data, but your professor was monitoring how many people you brought into the lab via a sign-in sheet, so you had to use real people.

After class, you went back to your dorm to mope about your future bad grade on your assignment. “Hey,” Kyoka said from her bed, back against the wall with her boyfriend’s head in her lap. 

That was when you saw him. Slouched down in your twin-sized loft bed filled to the brim with stuffed animals was Denki’s hot blonde friend, Katsuki Bakugou. You had gotten only a few chances to speak to him at Denki’s dorm parties, but from what he told you, aside from his general lack of complaisance, Bakugou was a fun person to be around. Aggressive, but still good company, apparently. He was your party crush that would sometimes talk to you. You were too scared to ask for his number, and he always disappeared promptly after every party. But while he was there, his eyes never left you.

Today, he wore an oversized black hoodie, and his baggy black pants had multiple straps hanging from them. One leg dangled over the edge of your mattress, his clunky black boots on the floor by your desk, buried in the fur of your fluffy rug. He didn’t seem to notice you, his eyes glued to his phone screen with his other arm casually behind his head.

You were embarrassed, both by your messy side of the room, and by all the stuffed animals on your bed. He clearly didn’t care, however, squashing quite a few plushies under his body, their plastic eyes bulging out of fluffy sockets. 

Dodging wads of clothes and cords from musical equipment, you made your way to your desk to set your backpack down, dodging his leg as you ducked under the loft bed. “You, um… You didn’t tell me we would have company…” you said to Kyoka, wishing you had dressed up a bit more for your previous class. You always expected her boyfriend to be over, but this was definitely a surprise. She knew you found him attractive, but you’re not sure she grasped the real gravity of the situation.

She laughed sheepishly. “Sorry… But I do have good news.”

“Go on.” You kicked off your own shoes onto your rug before trying to gather up some of the papers on your desk to help with the mess.

“Well, it took a bit of convincing, and a bit of bribery, but Denki found you a final person!” You turned to see her doing jazz-hands from her bed. 

Your eyes widened. “You don’t mean-”

She nodded, a devious smile on her face. “You got it. Meet Denki’s friend from high school.” If you hadn’t been staring right at her in shock, you would have missed the wink she shot at you. 

“Nice to see you,” you said after taking a moment to regain your composure, looking over the edge of your bed at him. He gave you a nod in acknowledgement, eyes snapping to yours and trailing downwards. You looked away awkwardly, feeling like a museum exhibit.

“I know you told me not to ask my friends,” Denki said, sitting up with a yawn. “But I couldn’t help myself.”

You wished you could be mad at him for going against your wishes, but you were just glad to finally be able to finish your project and to not have to scrounge campus for a semi-willing participant. Even though his choice of victim seemed to be a challenge to see how professional you can keep yourself. “Well, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” You leaned against one of the wooden posts of your bed frame. “I definitely owe you one!”

His eyes darted from yours nervously. “Let’s wait until after you do your thing to decide that…” Denki just hoped you wouldn’t kill him when you got back to your dorm. In fact, he was already running through ideas and excuses to not be there when you did get back.

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head with a suspicious squint.

An aggravated sigh drew your attention to your bed above you. “Where are we going for your little experiment?” Bakugou said.

You frowned at the thought of it being an experiment. While technically your project was science, as all nursing is, this assignment wasn’t anything more than gathering data and practicing your application of the techniques you learned. An experiment would entail a hypothesis and more focus on the science aspects. You almost made the clarification, but you lost your nerve when you looked at him again. “The lab is right by building B,” you said. “It’s open now, if you want to-”

“Fine.” He jumped off your bed before you could react and yanked his boots on. “Let’s go,” he grumbled, pulling harshly on the side zippers as you took a few seconds to process what had just occurred.

You hurried to put your own shoes on before he walked out the door, almost leaving you in the dust as you rushed to catch up to him after grabbing your backpack. Once outside, you were grateful you wore your jacket, the brisk air whipping around and stinging your cheeks as the sun went down. You walked next to each other, and you were determined to make this as transactional as possible, no matter what the heart threatening to erupt out of your ribs was saying. And it had very much to say, you found out. You didn't want to be presumptuous, and he was only supposed to help you with your assignment and be on his way, but it became increasingly difficult to keep the heat out of your face. You hardly noticed Bakugou’s soft jangling, the chains and straps on his pants rattling together, or the way his eyes occasionally fixed themselves on you, yours stuck down at the sidewalk under your feet. 

Building B was the building closest to your dorm, to which you were extremely grateful. It only took a few minutes of awkward silence to get there. You fumbled to grab your keycard out of the pocket of your jeans, the beep of the machine echoing through the small alcove as you pressed your card against it.

The large glass doors slid open soundlessly and you walked in, the stuffy room between the next set of doors so insulated from any sounds all you could hear was your own breathing. Through the second set was the medical lab, the large panels of windows casting a sunset glow over the equipment that had been left out. Community lab coats hung on a hook by the door. Several small doors lined the circular room, each door leading to a separate room for practicing medical exams. The sign-up sheet for your class was posted on a clipboard on the countertop beside a sink. 

Boxes of latex-free rubber gloves were lined up on the central counter, next to piles of stethoscopes and blood-pressure cuffs. As you signed in on the clipboard, writing your name and Bakugou’s in one of the tiny boxes, he wandered the lab, picking up random things and putting them back down after turning them in his hands a few times. You were grateful for the spray bottles of alcohol scattered about the room and in every smaller office, which you sprayed on the equipment you chose.

“Okay. Let’s see…” you said before scanning the small rooms, peeking into each one to check for other students. All of them were deserted, so you chose a random one, Bakugou following you inside. A table and a small chair were the only things in the room, aside from the counter and sink. “All I have to do is take your blood pressure and we’ll be done!” You set your backpack down and pulled out your lab sheet.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. “You brought me all the way here, just for this?”

You nodded. “Yes. Now, please sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, dumbass,” he said, but he sat down anyway, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. 

Your back was to him as you put your stethoscope on, scanning your paper’s instructions. When you turned back around, your eyes immediately widened and your face went hot. “What, um… What are you doing?” you stammered. Bakugou was in the process of removing his sweatshirt, revealing a plain black tank top and a muscular frame you weren’t expecting, although you tried not to imagine what he looked like under his baggy clothes.

“What’s it look like? Can’t take my blood pressure with my sleeves in the way. I thought you, a nursing major, would’ve known that.” His snide tone and his condescending smirk made you embarrassed. Admittedly, you didn’t even think about it. It irritated you that he somehow did, and it irritated you even more that he was right. You tried not to stare, not at the way his blond hair stuck out in every direction, or the way his tank top stretched over his broad chest, or the way his hand lay relaxed in his lap, palm up and waiting for you to begin.

The velcro of the sphygmomanometer was loud in the small room as you peeled it open, nervously taking Bakugou’s arm to wrap it around the thick muscle. He was so attractive you couldn’t help but look away, busying yourself with finding the inflation bulb. From this distance, you could smell his cologne, strong and masculine, and it filled your lungs like dense smoke. You had to will yourself to stay focused, to prevent yourself from fainting where you stood. “Can you hold this for me?” 

“Fine,” he said, and you placed the pressure gauge into his other hand. When your hands brushed, you took notice of how sweaty his palms were. You also noticed how he flinched slightly when you touched him. His breathing was even, but he looked at you intensely, like he had to think about each breath to keep himself alive. It was nerve-wracking being so close to him. So many times you tried to gain the confidence to talk to him, but you always chickened out as soon as you made eye contact across the room. Sometimes, he would talk to you first, but one of his friends always ruined the moment by begging him to do a keg-stand.

Staring straight at the gauge in his hand, you filled up the cuff, rapidly squeezing until it was thirty millimeters above resting. You pressed the stethoscope into the crook of his elbow, not noticing the beads of sweat on his skin, careful to keep your fingers off the back of the stethoscope bell. 

When the heartbeat stopped, you slowly twisted the dial on the side to release a bit of air. The heartbeat resumed, and you mentally wrote down the number on the dial. It stopped again, so you released the rest of the air out of the cuff. Pulling your stethoscope out of your ears, you reached to remove the cuff, velcro ripping from itself. His eyes never left you, watching the way your hands moved to slide the cuff off.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, abruptly, fingers fiddling with the tubes of the sphygmomanometer as you took the gauge out of his hand. He shrugged. You turned to set your equipment on the counter and write your data on your paper. “Do I make you nervous?”

“What kinda stupid question is that?” he snickered.

You laughed nervously, eyes meeting his as you turned around. “Well, it’s just that… You’re really sweaty.”

His smug expression had never left so fast. His hands grabbed his hoodie, scrambling to pull it over his head with a muttered, “Shit…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything!” You scrambled to fix your mistake, but the words had already left you.

Adjusting the hood of his hoodie, he avoided your gaze. He didn’t seem like the type to feel shame, but the expression on his face made you think otherwise. “Just forget it!” 

You shook your head, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “I shouldn’t have pointed it out. I’m sorry.”

“I just… I forgot to take my medication today. I’ve got, uh… this condition…” He trailed off as you began gathering your equipment, going back into the main lab to clean it again with alcohol.

“Hyperhidrosis?”

He blinked a few times. “Yeah, how’d you-?”

“Nursing major,” you reminded him, placing your tools in their respective piles. 

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. Anyway, just don’t… Just don’t tell anybody, okay?”

You placed a hand over your heart. “Your secret is safe with me,” you swore. You looked around the lab for anything else you needed to take care of. “So anyway, what did Denki have to do to get you to help me?”

He looked at you, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “He told me you’d go out with me if I did.”

You froze. “He- He did what?” Oh, you were so going to kill him. Knowing him, he’d make himself scarce, but he couldn’t be hard to track down.

“So, how about it? I never do anything for free.” Bakugou walked backwards into the door, pushing it open for you.

You laughed. “As long as you promise to help me kill Denki afterwards.”

[alexlwrites]

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7xReader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:   The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, College AU, angst if you squint.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

°•. ✿ .•°

Part 12 - What?

(<<< part 11)

Jin is sick.

Full on sick, bed-ridden, will-written (he left everything to his family dog, hoping to install chaos even in his after life), shivering in his near death state.

To sum up his pitiful state, Jin had the flu.

As the eldest, he was always thrown into the role of caregiver and he truly didn’t mind. Jin thrived knowing that his friends were well-fed and taken care of and the apartament wasn’t a pit of despair, dirty laundry, testosterone and food poisoning. Taking care of others filled him with prime and a beaming sense of purpose. He liked his loved ones happy and, furthermore, he liked being the one to provide said happiness, whether for his amazing cooking abilities or gentle, refined comedy.

But now, nearing the end of his life by the hands of a sneeze that just wouldn’t snooze, he regretted spoiling his dongsaengs rotten, because none of them had a single clue on how to help him or, at the very least, not worsen his state. 

Namjoon’s voice echoed from the kitchen, a place he had been previously banned from, but brought back to in those desperate times “How much sugar do I put in this?”.

Nevermind. Jin wasn’t that desperate. 

“None!” he coughed , feeling his soul leaving through his mouth as he hacked his lungs out “It’s a soup, you tall noodly buffoon.” 

“What’s going on?”

Jin turned his red, teary, tortured eyes towards the door, where you stood with your backpack, taking off your shoes.

Namjoon scurried from the kitchen, seemingly untormented by the cloud of smoke left behind him and the alarming wheezing sound that foreshadowed nothing good.

“Y/N!” he called sweetly and leaned in to kiss your cheek, a brazilian habit he picked up from you, but funnily enough only seemed to use with you “Jin is being mean to me!”

Ugh. As if Seokjin wasn’t sick enough, he was then forced to watch his back-stabbing, sugar and baking powder wielding, Big Bird of a friend drape himself over your much smaller and much less Sesame Street looking body.

Jin wasn’t in his clearest state of mind, so he didn’t stop to ponder on the implications of the ache in his chest and the twisting sensation in his stomach at the sight, chalking it off as one of the symptoms of his imminent doom and not at all a sign for something much bigger and catastrophic.

“Why are you being mean, Jinnie?” you asked as you removed the koala-like grip Namjoon had on you and put away your stuff.

“He’s trying to poison me” he croaked from his pitiful burrow in the L shaped couch “Putting sugar in the soup.”

“Joonie, please we have talked about this. More than once.” Jin couldn’t help but purr with satisfaction as you chastised his lanky friend. Finally, he thought, sweet vindication “Don’t worry, Jin, I’ll get you something to eat.”

Those last few words sounded as if they were whispered from a thousand miles away, barely background noise as Seokjin once more slipped in and out of consciousness.

When he woke up again, there was a cold towel against his forehead and a pleasant smell filled his senses. You stood by his side, holding a bowl of something that smelled absolutely divine and Jin had a short, intrusive thought that this is what heaven looked like.

“Good to see you awake.” you said as his eyes blinked open “Sit up, I made you soup. Sugarless. You should get something to eat.”

Jin stretched his tired body, feeling the dull ache in his muscles complain about the movement. HIs fever seemed to have gotten better, but there was still some uncomfortableness left by his sweaty, snotty state.

Even so, he betted he still looked great. Sexy even, in a plague-esque, victorian child sort of way, like Timothee Chalamet. Hotter, both in looks and temperature, than most men in his life.

“Where’s everyone?” he asked, noticing the empty and unusually silent and peaceful apartament. 

“They left a while ago. Joonie had classes.”

“Ungrateful bastards” he mumbled “I could’ve died since then!”

“From the flue?”

“From resentment!”

You laughed, placing the porcelain bowl carefully in his hands “Trust me, you don’t want any of them taking care of you.”

“Maybe Yoongi.”

“Yeah” you agreed “Maybe Yoongi.”

He ate in silence for a while, watching you make yourself busy around the room, unpacking your school bag and fixing yourself something to eat. “How are you feeling now?” you asked after sometime in quietude.

He coughed, folding over himself as his whole chest heaved in a violent fit. “Better”

Your arched a doubtful brow “You sure?”

Jin raised two thumbs, smile looking like a grimace. 

“Yeah, very convincing except for the snot and smoker’s cough you have” you said, pushing him to lie back on the couch, hands on his burning chest “Stay down, soldier, I’ll take care of you.”

Those words sparked something in Jin’s chest, a sudden rush of fondness and affection that heated his cheeks even more. He had proudly and happily taken the role of caretaker in their friend group and never resented, but there was no denying the warmth that sentence brought him. 

Your relationship with him had always been casual, at best, just exchanging crossed jokes and puns that made no one else laugh but the two of you. And although he liked to joke about your position as his future wife, there hadn’t been many attempts from either parties to deepen your friendship. You were just… Comfortable, Jin guessed. There was no strain to keep a conversation going, no awkward stepping around each other like there usually was in the beginning stages of getting to know someone.

Maybe it was your similarities that made you so at ease around each other, Jin pondered, weirdly contemplative in his pile of sickness by the couch. You were both the funniest people alive, great cooks, caring and exceedingly beautiful indivi- 

Woah, he paused. When did he start thinking you were beautiful - exceedingly so? You were cute, sure, but beautiful? His eyes followed you across the room as you cleaned up the slight mess scattered around the space, accessing your features: lit up eyes, easy smile, soft looking hair and skin that begged for him to reach out and touch…

Jin halted his dangerous line of thinking. Was this a side effect of the flu or an epiphany? Was the pounding of his heart just a sign of the decomposing of his body or just the feeling of unbound gratefulness at being taken care of? Or was it just…

You.

***

You. 

Jungkook thought about your existence within his life half wistfully and half infuriated. You were simultaneously the reason why he had a hard time leaving his room after waking up and paradoxically the current only reason he did. There was nothing new about early mornings with his hyungs hogging the coffee and sleeping on top of the dinner table, but seeing you by the kitchen sink or holding stupid Yoongi’s stupid hands always kickstarted his heart, even if painfully so. He had been living with you for quite a few weeks now and his body and soul had yet to get accustomed to your presence in his routine - still, you were everywhere, from your perfume invading his senses to his Marvels movies he could never watch the same way now that he knew how it felt to see them with your arms around him. 

Jungkook had to act. Not only because he couldn’t hold his feelings inside his surprisingly muscular chest, but also due to the movement he could see happening around the house hold. From Namjoon clinging onto you like a disease, to Hoseok’s threats and Yoongi’s silent plottings, Jungkook knew if he didn’t do something, someone else would.

And he was nothing if not a sore fucking loser. 

So Jungkook got to planning, cataloging everything he knew about you and your routine to come up with the perfect moment to ask you out. He had not gotten as far as considering what he would do if you said yes (start dancing? Yell? Fireworks? Punch Namjoon in celebration? Who fucking knew) but in order to not panic he had to take everything one step at a time and hope for the best, even if his previous relationship histories pointed in a different direction.

On the day he chose as The Perfect Day™, no one was supposed to be home, out having classes, at work or spreading havoc somewhere around campus ( mainly Taehyung and Jimin). No one, except you, enjoying one of your rare days off. 

He had armed himself with an arsenal of your favorite things, from pastries to flowers, one more tube of lipgloss to add to your insurmountable collection and crocheted trinkets he tried to make himself but turned out looking like unidentifiable blobs (he hoped he could charm you with his attempt, at least). He practiced his speech until the words left his mouth automatically, leaving no room for mistakes or blabbing. 

And he hoped, God did he hope, that you would give him the time of your day and spare him of the misery of having you so close and not being able to touch. 

But things started going south as soon as he reached the first step of the stairs up to their apartament and ran face first into Hoseok, carrying a bouquet of roses and a bag from the same bakery Jungkook had just visited.

They stared at each other in dumbfounded silence for a few seconds, seeing but not processing each other’s presence and what it meant until Hoseok said “What are you doing?”.

Jungkook spluttered indignantly, “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I said I was going to do!” 

“So am I!” 

A second passed and no one moved. One second later, Jungkook bolted up the stairs, followed by his cursing hyung as he hoped that his toned thighs would give him an advantage in the race for your heart.

“I should be the one to ask her out!” Hoseok yelled from five steps behind “I’ve known her the longest!”

“And did nothing!” the maknae replied, starting to break a sweat “It’s my turn! You lost, old man!” 

“Old man? I’m only a couple years older than you! I’m Y/N’s age! Are you calling her old?”

That made Jungkook trip up a step, slowing down his ascent “No! At least I can call her noona! What can you call her, huh?”

“I don’t know what I’m calling her, but I know what I’m calling you when I’m throwing you down the stairs: an ambulance!”

“Better make sure they know how to fix your broken heart when she says yes to me!”

“And if she says no?”

***

And if she says no?

Rejection was never something Jin gave much thought about and he wasn’t about to start now. 

It was less about the belief that no one could reject him (although the concept did seem foreign to most) and more about rejecting the idea of missing opportunities due to fear of rejection. He could move on from being denied something, but never from regretting not taking chances.

And maybe this was a chance worth taking. Maybe, he thought while still observing you from his death bed (the couch), he could allow a joke to grow into something bigger and get to know you a little better. You didn’t have to start dating and then get married right away, but he saw potential in your congruent personalities. 

And what more could he ask from a woman besides a sense of humor and the ability to feed him without poisoning him? The universe had already handed you to him in a platter.

“Y/N” he called softly.

You raised your head from across the room and smiled softly, further finalizing his decision with the way your eyes lit up “Yes?”

“Go out with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock “What?”

“What?”

They turned their heads to the door, where Jungkook was pressed against it with eyes as big as saucers, holding it close with his weight before it burst open to a panting Hoseok and, in the back, an appalled Yoongi stepping out from the elevator.

“WHAT?”

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

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