#let it be known I didn’t bother reading this post and hoped my thought about the sequel were not dumb

[bitchlessdino]

boo-ty call 👻 (m)

Pairing: perverted ghost!jeonghan x cute neighbor!seungkwan x afab!reader Genre: supernatural comedy, smut Word count: 11.1k tags: a lot of puns, human body possession (con and dubcon), threesome by definition if you count a ghost, mention of food, cunnilingus, some degrading (slut), light spanking, unprotected sex Summary: As far as unwanted roommates go, your ghostly companion was one you never anticipated. But when this specter began to assert himself and meddle in your dating life—or lack thereof—you started to reconsider your stance; maybe having a roommate wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he's helping you get laid. author note: it's sluttober! when did i last write anything and have it posted. that's crazy sorry about that yall, but i'm really trying my best to be more active, but ngl its hard. life really gets in the way and we have to remind ourselves to take a back sometimes, even from our hobbies. Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @seokgyuu for beta reading and helping me perfect this masterpiece and thank you to you guys for your patience. Enjoy! Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone

You should’ve known better than to find an apartment listing in the same place where people get lied to about the types of dogs they’re buying. To this day, your aunt is convinced her Chorkie is supposed to be pure Maltese.

Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. It should’ve scared you. It should’ve driven you away and rushed you out to find a newer, less haunted place to live. But it was cheap, fully furnished, and came with a walkable laundromat and a family-owned market with homegrown tomatoes. Nothing could beat that.

You could tolerate it. It was better than mooching off your parents, who ask every five minutes when you’ll get a 'real' job. Living away from your parents was necessary for your sanity and a dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.

“Can you fucking stop leaving the bathroom light on? I get that haunting is your job and all, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”

If anyone could see you talking to thin air right now, they would’ve had you committed.

“And while we’re at it, could you stop stealing the lacy underwear? They’re gifts, and I don’t wear them, but I might someday, so leave me the option!”

The hallway light flickered before it finally stopped and swift air breezed past you in response, but no returning underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh and shove the rest of your dirty clothes into the hamper before proceeding with laundry day. 

You’ve never seen any part of them, yet you’re always aware of their presence. It was creepy at first, but that quickly turned into annoyance when you realized how limited their grasp on the living world truly was—just a bit of theft and light tinkering. It was manageable, but you still felt uneasy knowing you couldn’t change without feeling watched.

“I’ll be back. Don’t piss me off more when I do. It is not my week.”

Not a day had passed since you two became acquainted that he didn’t find some way to bother you, but there were definite perks to living in hell’s best apartment lease. As your feet scraped across the tiled floor, the afternoon sun briefly flushed your skin, and a familiar flutter stirred in your chest as the thought of something popped into your head. Instead of the usual contempt, longing filled your chest as you made your way to the machine.

“What do we have today, m’dear?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and you pretended to nonchalantly turn around, as if you hadn’t just spent several minutes hoping for his appearance. “Oh, you know, the usual—interview clothes, some sweatpants, and a few coffee-stained rags.”

Seungkwan’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, his laugh warm as he tossed his own laundry into the machine beside yours. “Sounds spicy. Mrs. Whirlpool is in for a gourmet meal today.”

He said the weirdest, most ridiculous things, but the real mystery was how you still ended up wanting to kiss him anyway. There was something about his easy smile, the effortless way he tossed his dress shirt into the machine like it was some kind of party trick.

He had a knack for brightening the atmosphere as if he possessed a magnetic otherworldly charm. Whenever you arrived, you couldn't help but wish he would be there, transforming the ordinary task of laundry into an intimate little affair—just the two of you amidst a heap of dirty clothes.

You observed him from the side, noting that his stack of clothes was noticeably smaller than usual. This made you question why he would wash such a small load. “Today isn't your regular laundry day. It’s usually Fridays and Mondays, isn't it? Today’s Thursday.”

The second the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. Great. Way to sound like a total stalker. Creep much?

Seungkwan cocked a smile. “I’m flattered you’ve memorized my laundry schedule.”

You laughed awkwardly, scrambling for cover. “I pass by here and just happen to have a really great memory.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this might sound kind of gross and embarrassing, but I found these abandoned at the back of my closet. They’ve been there forever, and I had some extra change, so I figured, why not? You know, especially since I’ll be gone at the end of October.”

“You’ll be gone for Halloween?” Well, don’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a soft chuckle, glancing your way. “Family traditions. Can’t miss them. You know, the usual—handing out candy, our neighborhood haunted house contest, all that.”

“That sounds like so much fun. Way better than my Halloween growing up.” 

“Aw, thanks, but trust me, it’s way more chaotic than it sounds. Kids screaming, neighbors going overboard with decorations—it’s a lot." He shrugged as he folded his laundry, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. “What about you? Got any plans?”

“Um… I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out, I guess,” you answered earnestly, suddenly feeling like a loser with no plans–which you were by definition.

Seungkwan hesitated, his hands stilling mid-fold, the fabric dangling loosely between his fingers. You could see something flickering in his eyes—a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind like a muddled cloud, visible in the furrow of his brow. “Oh. Well, um…” His voice trailed off, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were battling whether or not to say what was really on his mind.

"What?" Your curiosity spiked, your heart quickening as you waited for him to continue. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, stretching the already lingering silence.

He quickly shook his head, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile before turning back to his laundry, his hands moving again, but less sure than before. “Nothing. Just—never mind.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment weighed on you, heavier than you wanted to admit. You glanced at the washing machines, trying to focus on the steady hum of the cycles, but your eyes kept drifting back to the numbers, slowly counting the seconds until the minutes ticked over, all while the silence between you grew louder.

You finished your load long before Seungkwan could wrap up his, the awkward tension of unfinished business hanging in the air like a thick fog. You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before mustering a tight smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. “Well, that’s it for me. See you around, Seungkwan.”

He looked up from his laundry, the corners of his lips tugging down slightly. "See you, neighbor," he said, his tone laced with a hint of regret. The moment lingered in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, making it even harder to walk away.

With one last glance at his face, you stepped back, the soft chime of the door ringing behind you as you passed their glass doors.

As you walked  back toward your apartment, you couldn’t help but drop in confidence, thinking to yourself that maybe you didn’t deserve good things like cute laundromat boy. The hallway felt more confining than usual, the walls seeming to close in, echoing the insecure thoughts making rounds in your head.

You leaned against the cheaply painted walls of your cramped apartment, sliding down to sit on the floor with your head in your hands. It was just a childish crush—fleeting and meaningless—yet the thought of him going away scared you more than any real-life danger you'd ever faced. He was the only upside to moving to this part of town, the one thing that made the mundane feel even remotely worthwhile.

As you sat on the vinyl floor, you could still picture the sparkle in his eyes when he first opened those double doors, the warmth of his voice as he introduced himself. What had once been just laundry had turned into something to look forward to, a small break from the routine and a chance to brighten up your day in this sparse town. 

Maybe, if you were lucky, it could turn into a little small-town romance. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even saw you beyond the casual pleasantries. Did he just see you as another neighbor, or maybe just a friendly face? 

The familiar flickering light in the kitchen pulled you back to the reality and up from the ground of your haunted apartment. With a frustrated sigh, you turned your attention to your unwanted roommate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” you muttered, trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy.

As you walked toward the living room, the flickering lightbulbs in the lamps followed your path, their erratic dance a reminder of the presence that lingered in your space. Maybe getting rid of them wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could be a way to finally cut ties with the ghost that seemed determined to remind you of your solitude. You chuckled softly at the thought. Perhaps an exorcism could clear out both the ghost and all the pointless overthinking.

But that was a problem for another day. Rotting in bed sounded far more appealing right now. You shuffled into your room, the soft glow from the streetlamp spilling in through the window, casting faint shadows on the walls as the evening deepened. The coolness of the night crept in slowly, the faint hum of the city blending into the background.

As you sank into the familiar embrace of your blankets, the exhaustion in your limbs finally settled, but your mind lingered for a moment longer. You glanced outside, the dim light catching in the leaves of the trees below, and for a fleeting second were at peace. No ghosts, no old washers or dryers, no obsessive crush. Just sleep.

You sighed, pulling the covers tighter around you, letting the hum of old furnishing–and probably the old pervert ghost–as you drifted off into sleep.

Your rest was cut short by a full bladder, ready to burst. With heavy eyelids, you stumbled toward the bathroom, barely aware of your surroundings. As you relieved yourself, everything felt normal—the creaking of the bathroom door, the sporadic running of the faucet, and the occasional flickering of the lights above, indicating his restless presence.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes with your fists. “This wasn’t an invitation, Casper,” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice.

As if to taunt you, the faucet suddenly turned on full blast, running wildly before shutting off completely, leaving you with nothing but the simmering annoyance bubbling inside of you. With a frustrated huff, you quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. The lone reflection staring back at you looked as tired as you felt.

With dark circles under your eyes and a complexion that could only be described as dull, it was starting to feel like you were one bad hair day away from getting "gave up" tattooed across your forehead. And suddenly you were wondering whether you looked more dead than the ghost.

Instead of wallowing more self-pity, you washed your hands under the running faucet. If the ghost wanted to bother you, it certainly wasn’t going to be about your hygiene. You kept that on lock.

You glanced back at the mirror and no longer were you alone. Instead, where your reflection should have been was the unsettling visage of your ghost, staring back at you with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. His pale features were striking, almost ethereal, with an undeniable charm that twisted your gut. Those mischievous eyes sparkled with a playful malevolence.

Your ghost was attractive–strikingly so–and for some reason that made you dislike him even more.

You shot your shared reflection an unamused smile. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

His reflection chuckled, leaning over his sink to give you an unfiltered view of every extraordinary detail etched into his face like a sculpture. “What? I thought I could finally introduce myself.”

“After months of me already living here? I feel the moment has passed,” you shot back, crossing your arms in defiance.

“Well, I had to pass my own judgment, didn't I? Do you know how many coke-huffing, cheese puff-grubbing, athlete-foot-walking slobs I’ve encountered in my place of residence?” He leaned closer, his expression mockingly serious, the flickering light casting playful shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

“May I remind you that those people were renters? If they paid to be there, who were you to deny them that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Like I didn’t pay when I was alive? Plus, Muriel definitely wasn’t paying, nor was Monty. They were beyond sketchy.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly relishing the chance to air his grievances from beyond the grave. “Now that I think about it, there was definitely some laundry going on around here—and I’m not just talking about your underwear strewn all over the place.”

“Thanks for the reminder. Would you please leave the undergarments alone?” you replied, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into your voice as if you didn’t sound crazy enough talking into a mirror.

He shrugged nonchalantly, the flickering light casting shadows across his smirking face. “I will once you learn to toss them in the hamper like a normal humie. Upside to being dead: no laundry.”

“I don’t have to take this from someone who can’t even wear underwear anymore.”

“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.

You scoffed, incredulous at the absurdity of the conversation you were having—with a ghost of all people.

“You know I’m right…I could sense your heart racing the moment you laid eyes on me,” he teased, a playful grin dancing across his lips as his jaw hung slightly slack in intrigue. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the way your breath caught in your throat, as if he were drinking in every detail, alive in the way his eyes glowed with mischief despite their soulless depths.

His ghostly figure was lean and toned, the contours of his form faintly visible like a lingering shadow, brimming with an energy that felt both alluring and infuriating. The flickering light cast an ethereal glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaws and the way his seemingly wet hair fell carelessly over his forehead. He leaned closer, the air thickening with a mix of annoyance and something dangerously enticing as if he relished the effect he had on you.

“Are you…flirting with me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask, but the glint in his eye was undeniable.

“It’s not illegal. Not in the afterlife, anyway. Anything goes here.” He leaned back against the sink, bloodless veins pulsing against his forearms, enjoying the encounter more than he should.

“I…need sleep.” 

You peeled yourself away from the mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, and headed to bed without looking back. You slipped through the sheets, found comfort in their familiarity, and sighed, thinking you escaped.

“You know—”

“Jesus!” you burst out, your heart racing as you instinctively clutched your chest. Opening your eyes, you found the ghost looming above you, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What now?”

“Walking to a different room isn’t exactly a proper goodnight,” he said, crossing his arms over his spectral chest as if he were the arbiter of etiquette in the afterlife. His expression was mock-serious, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he found the whole situation amusing.

“As if ghosts even sleep?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“No, but it’s polite,” he replied, feigning indignation, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained grin.

“Is this going to keep happening? You annoy me until I scrape together enough money to move out, or, if I’m not fortunate, end up penniless and homeless,” you lamented, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“You tell me.”

With a sigh, you shut your eyes again and threw the blanket over your head, seeking refuge. “At least save it for the morning.”

And the ghost did just that—he saved all of it for the morning, better yet the afternoon. Since that’s when you woke up anyways.

“Do people always eat breakfast past two p.m., or is that a recent trend from the last two decades?” his voice called, cutting through the haze of your half-sleep as you started to eat 

“How old are you even?” you mumbled, cereal gnashing between your teeth.

“Old enough to know that you need more than cereal to sustain a healthy human body.”

“Riveting,” you muttered sarcastically, sipping the milk from the bowl. “Next, you’ll tell me that ‘ghosting’ is a real thing in your realm, too.”

“Actually, it is,” he retorts, his presence somehow stronger than it was in front of a mirror, “Happen to be doing it right now. Having some fun.”

“Is that your idea of fun? Stalking me from beyond the grave?”

“Call it what you want, but I’m just trying to keep you company,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Besides, who else is going to breathe some life into your dull existence other than someone who’s already checked out of theirs?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a playful huff. “Great. Just what I need—my own ghostly life coach. What’s next? A seminar on the benefits of double-scrubbing the bathtub?

It was meaningless stuff, really. The kind of chatter that filled the air like background noise, a gentle distraction from the world outside your walls. Yet, for someone who was supposed to be dead, he had an uncanny knack for conversation, it only made you assume the type of person he was alive. He could turn the mundane into clear images, painting vivid pictures with his stories about the afterlife—or, more accurately, his gripes about it. Not that you asked for it, but, it was like being told a grand story. Stories you could not for the life of you stop listening to for some reason.

“Okay, ghostie—”

“Jeonghan,” he corrected. “Say it with me slowly. Jeong. Han.”

“Mmh, ghostie! I’ll be back after the laundry is done.”

“No way you’re saving money with how often you—”

“Bye bye, poltergeist!” You cut him off with a wave, stepping out with a load full of laundry.

You had noticed how quickly the days were slipping by, how time seemed to blur when you shared your space with someone—or rather, something—that could actually respond to you in real-time. It was a strange kind of companionship, one that made you forget just how much solitude had weighed on you before.

The passing days also reminded you just how much you needed a breather, to clear your head from this bizarre living arrangement. And somehow, your laundry had piled up, more than it ever should have for someone unemployed who barely left the house. It was odd. Almost like time itself was moving faster, dragging the mess along with it.

“Hey, right on schedule—Thursdays and every other Monday and today’s Monday..”

You almost forgot about Seungkwan amidst all the supernatural nonsense swirling around you, but seeing him brought back memories of your last encounter, and you quickly put on a smile. “Hey there! Look at you, recognizing my laundry schedule too.”

“Thought I’d return the favor since you were kind enough to remember mine. Hope that’s okay,” he replied, his tone light.

You piled your laundry into the machine, carefully measuring out some freshly opened detergent. “It is.”

“Okay… I just want to apologize for being weird the last time we talked,” he said, shifting slightly as he leaned against the machine, his expression turning a bit more serious. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you assured him.

“I just… I don’t know.” He glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. “My mind went blank, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled reassuringly. “I get that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

He looked up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “So you think I’m pretty?”

Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”

He leaned against his machine, his gaze fixed on you. “Didn’t deny it, though.”

You chuckled, feigning exasperation and mirroring his posture against your own machine. “You’re a lot more cocky than I realized, Mr. Seungkwan.”

“Do you like that?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were left speechless. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as your thoughts bounced from one corner of your mind to the other until finally, they found themselves running down between your legs in a new form of discomfort. “Umm…” 

You turned away for a moment, breathing to steady yourself, gently patting away your very alive heart.

“I made it weird again, didn’t I?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret.

You spun back around, shaking your head. “No. No! It just took me by surprise.”

“Sorry about that.” Not sounding all that sorry.

“That’s…more than I’m used to,” you admitted, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“Thank you?” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound brightening the air between you and making the moment feel lighter and more vibrant. Just then, the machine beeped, a sharp sound signaling that your clothes were done, pulling you away from the heated exchange.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, but this time it felt different—like the crackling of kindling in the perfect moment when fireflies come out, illuminating the night as brightly as the stars in the sky. You exchanged a quiet glance, catching a glint reminiscent of those stars in his gaze, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling you, ‘Hey, maybe there's something here.’

When you finally turned to leave, your smile was the biggest you’d ever had. And when he matched yours, it was like you had just won a bizarre lottery. You probably looked a bit unhinged, standing there grinning at nothing while swaying in the damp weather, but you didn’t care. The butterflies in your stomach danced happily, and you found yourself wishing you could hold on to this moment just a little longer, savoring the warmth it brought.

“You look happy.”

Not even the Ghostbusters’ final boss could ruin that for you.

“Cram it, Beetlejuice Lite,” you shot back, because although you’re in a good mood, you relished finding new names to call Jeonghan besides his own.

You hummed to yourself as you folded and neatly put away your clothes, feeling his cool, lingering presence behind you. He watched, like always—probably thinking up who put sugar in your cereal this morning for you to be in such an uppity mood.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re actually putting your clothes away like a functional human being?” His voice oozed mock surprise, but today, it just rolled right off you.

“Yep! Just felt like it,” you replied cheerfully, sliding the last of the shirts into your drawer with a satisfied nod.

“Strange. I thought laundry was your natural habitat now, seeing how often you’re in there… but I guess that’s thanks to a certain ‘living,’” 

You snapped your drawer shut, the sound echoing through the room as you whipped around to glare at him, immediately pulling you away from the happiness you felt not that long ago. “You—”

“Seungkwan, wasn’t it? Cute kid. Didn’t quite peg him as your type, though.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, heart doing an involuntary somersault. Of course, he’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything, like some twisted version of a nosy neighbor, only this one didn’t have the decency to keep his opinions to himself. You wanted to fire back, but your brain was moving a step too slow, still caught up on the casual way he dropped Seungkwan's name. How long had he been watching you both at the laundromat?

“You’re stalking me outside of the apartment now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My spirit may be bound to this place,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, “but my soul can roam as it pleases.”

“Spirit? Soul? Aren’t they the same thing?”

He tilted his head, giving you a patronizing smile. “Not quite. My soul travels freely, observing everything within a reasonable distance—it’s not tethered to the apartment like my spirit is. My spirit stays here, out of my control.”

“So, you spied on me just because you could?”

"Call it research. Gathering intel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you were doing anything interesting."

"Oh, I'm so glad I could provide you with such riveting entertainment.”

You shook your head, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind you, only to have Jeonghan pass through it. "You know, for a ghost, you're surprisingly annoying."

"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."

You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people."

“So,” he began, “about this Seungkwan guy…”

You stiffened, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What about him?”

“Just curious,” he replied casually, though there was a glint in his eyes. “He seems... nice.”

“He is,” you mumbled, suddenly finding your laundry far more interesting than the conversation again.

“And you like him?”

Your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words almost sticking in your throat. “Maybe.”

“Does he like you?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…I don’t know yet.”

There was a beat of silence before he offered, “Want some help with that?”

“No. What? How would you even do that?” You narrowed your eyes, already regretting entertaining this conversation.

He started circling you, wearing a grin that screamed trouble, like a cat ready to pounce. “The only time my soul and spirit are truly joined,” he began in a low, conspiratorial tone, “is when I possess a body and take control of their flesh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Where is this going, Bloody Maury? Skip to the part that makes sense.”

He stopped directly in front of you, arms crossed. “Well, if you’re interested in ‘skipping to the good parts,’ I could possess your body. Help you say what’ll win over Seungkwan in no time.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the hell would I be dumb enough to let you do that?”

He snickered, leaning in with a smug look. “Because you’re desperate and haven’t slept with anyone the entire time we’ve lived together.”

“…You talk too much.”

“Think about it,” he continued, unbothered by your glare. “You’ve already got a foot in the door with him. You just need a little boost. I can help.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “This sounds like some high-level scheme to take over my body. Then I’ll end up stuck sharing it with a ghost, screaming into the depths of my soul for eternity. Thanks, but no thanks.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much supernatural TV. And besides, if I wanted to possess your body for good, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I do have some principles, you know. Consent and all.”

You shook your head, unimpressed. “Nope. I still can’t trust you, ghostie.”

Jeonghan, ever the persistent undead, didn’t know the meaning of giving up—and by now, you should’ve expected as much. And maybe, just maybe, his constant, incessant persuading was starting to wear you down. Sharing the same space day in and day out gave him the upper hand. He knew your quirks, your weak spots—the best and worst parts of you.

These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.

As you stared off at him, basking in the cool autumn air slipping through the balcony, you started to wonder if his intentions were not as venomous or malicious as you initially thought. There was a strange, quiet sadness in his eyes as if he longed for something he couldn’t put into words. Something that you couldn’t understand even if you tried.

“Am I really so pathetic that the ‘phantom reject’ is willing to help me with my love life?”

Jeonghan glanced at you with mild interest, noticing the way your curiosity had piqued. You sat comfortably on the couch, your elbow propped on the armrest, cheek nestled in your palm, as you observed him. He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, the silence was deafening and he lowered his head to level with you, staring back at you with so much intent it burned to feel his gaze.

He titled his head, brimming with pride. “Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”

“You really think this’ll work for me?”you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“Of course,” he replied, with a grin. “You’ve got me.”

You were really considering it—letting a ghost help with your love life. Was this truly insane? Maybe. But it felt like it was worth a shot.

God, this was pathetic. And for once, you had something to be genuinely afraid of. And funny enough, it wasn’t possession. Until, well… maybe it was.

Life had never quite prepared you for this. Standing in your bedroom, surrounded by the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in the corner, you realized you’d put this off long enough—both the laundry and the body possession. You let out a shaky breath, glancing nervously from the mess to Jeonghan. 

His presence loomed, just as insistent as the neglected chores, and you had to steady yourself, mentally sorting through how you’d ended up in this bizarre situation. Laundry? Fine. Ghost possession? Not something you thought was possible. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to assess the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly as you tried, and failed, to shake off the nerves. His movements were deliberate as he approached, eyes narrowing in focus. He watched how the tension gripped your shoulders, the way your breath quickened despite your best efforts to stay calm. His presence felt heavier, and as he took his position in front of you, the air around him seemed to still. 

You could feel the weight of what was about to happen, the looming absurdity of it all. Jeonghan, who usually exuded a kind of careless charm, now looked oddly concentrated, as if he were preparing for something he rarely had the chance to do. His expression, though still smug, carried a certain gravity. But in all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what to expect.

“I’m about to make contact,” Jeonghan said, his tone unusually serious. “It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”

His hands hovered over your shoulders, a ghostly chill brushing against your skin. For a split second, there was something oddly reassuring in his dead, sullen eyes. "You'll be okay. I promise, nothing will go wrong."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down. "Alright, I trust you." Then you glanced at him, a small smirk forming. "But seriously, what do you get out of all this? Helping me, I mean. I won’t judge... Boo-dini."

He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly as if considering how to answer. “I…want to remember what it’s like to feel alive again. See what I missed out on.”

“That’s fair,” you nodded, understandably.

“Expected more from me, humie?”

You shrugged. “Thought you’d have a deeper back story, but that’s fine.”

Jeonghan scoffed softly, giving you a teasing smirk before he began. In an instant, he was there—and then he wasn’t. The shift was so sudden it left you reeling. Just as he’d predicted, a shiver rippled down your spine, cold and unsettling. But what he hadn’t mentioned were the flashes of unfamiliar images that flickered behind your eyes, moments you’d never lived but somehow felt were real.

They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.

‘How are you?’ he voice said, interrupting your thoughts.

You quietly nodded, reassuring him.

‘Very well then. Your lead, dear host.’

You wandered into the laundromat with your overstuffed hamper, feeling a bit like a laundry pirate hauling treasure—or dirty socks—across the high seas. You’d made the executive–and rightfully cowardly–decision to skip your usual laundry day, and now it was leading up to this very moment. Jeonghan stayed mostly dormant in your body as you claimed an empty machine, the back of your head itchy knowing another being was sharing your body that has led you this far. And now it was going to lead you to get laid.

It was like clockwork. Any minute now, Seungkwan would stroll in, and Jeonghan would take over, handling all the nerve-wracking nonsense you'd rather avoid.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ his voice echoed, ‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’

“Sorry,” you muttered softly under your breath, ignoring the supernatural’s attempt at a joke.

‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’

“I know,” you sighed.

“You know what?”

You spun around, facing Seungkwan, who’d entered with that casual, friendly energy you always admired. He smiled, raising an eyebrow at your startled expression.

"Seungkwan!" you blurted out, trying to push the embarrassment down as far as it would go.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greeted, already moving toward his machine, gently separating colors from whites. “How are you?”

“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”

He gave you a light shrug, glancing up with a playful grin. “Just sounded like you were talking to yourself.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” you quipped, trying to play it cool. “Sometimes thinking out loud helps clear the head noise, right?”

“Right,” he said, stretching with an amused smile, clearly entertained by your odd, jittery energy.

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’

You quietly cursed Jeonghan in your head for making this harder than it needed to be, before mustering up the nerve to approach Seungkwan, fingers nervously fidgeting.

"Hey, so... you mentioned you were going to be out of town for Halloween, right?"

Seungkwan looked up, surprised and then grinned. "You remembered! Yeah, what’s up?"

You hesitated for a second, feeling Jeonghan’s smug presence lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. "I thought..."

Seungkwan leaned casually against the now-humming washer, hands tucked in his pockets, his curious gaze fixed on you. "Yeah?"

You tried to keep your cool, but the moment the words "we could do something" left your mouth, your brain started to short-circuit. Seungkwan turned to you with that easygoing grin of his, waiting for you to elaborate, and you could already feel the awkwardness creeping in.

Jeonghan’s voice chimed in, ‘You’re fumbling. Let me take over.’

Before you could protest, the familiar shiver ran down your spine. Suddenly, everything felt distant—your limbs moved, but you weren't fully in control anymore.

Jeonghan’s smooth voice came out of your mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was thinking, maybe we could hang out before you head out of town? You know, catch a movie, grab a drink, something low-key, say my place?"

Seungkwan's smile widened, surprised but clearly intrigued. "You want to hang out with me?”

Jeonghan, still in control of your voice, replied effortlessly, "Of course." Before you could even process what was happening, your feet began to move on their own, gliding across the floor like a spy on a secret mission. Jeonghan closed the distance between you and Seungkwan, and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."

Your heart raced, and you mentally screamed at Jeonghan, Okay, okay, that’s enough! I can take it from here!

But he was on a roll. "Tomorrow?" Seungkwan asked, leaning casually against the washing machine, though the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot betrayed his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"Tomorrow’s perfect," Jeonghan responded smoothly, maintaining the effortless flow of the conversation. "I’ll text you the details."

With each word, your body felt like it was moving on autopilot, and while you were horrified by the lack of control, a part of you couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. Jeonghan was nailing it, but the closeness to Seungkwan was almost too much to handle.

Suddenly, Seungkwan playfully entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your hand, as his grin graced his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the connection. When you opened them, you found an unreadable expression on his face—intense and smoldering. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice slightly softer now. “Looking forward to it.”

The way he held your gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you faded into a soft blur. Even though Jeonghan was in control, your thoughts tangled with the heat of the moment, coursing through you like a fever. 

As soon as Seungkwan turned away to his laundry with a lingering grin, Jeonghan released control, and the reins were back in your hands. You blinked, still a bit disoriented from the possession.

‘See? Easy,’ Jeonghan’s voice echoed smugly in your mind.

‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.

‘But effective.’

That night, you tackled all the prep work you knew you needed to get done. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this, and you definitely had some dust bunnies and spiderwebs in your attic.

“Humie–oh.”

“Jeonghan! What the hell?” Your eyes flew open as you scrambled to pull the shower curtain over your bare legs, the chill of the water sending a shiver up your spine from the products strewn haphazardly at the edge of the sink. “Do you fucking mind?”

“Well, well. Look at you, all cleaned up. At least yourself, anyway. Can’t say the same for the bathroom floor—or that mountain of grooming products over there.”

You gripped your makeshift cover-up a little tighter, groaning in frustration. “Privacy, please! I barely have any as it is.”

“I’m just saying, I’m proud of you. Now, if you manage to sweep up after, I might even give you a round of applause.”

“Out!” you snapped, glaring.

He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”

If you weren’t already a bundle of nerves, Jeonghan was getting far too comfortable for your liking. Leading up to that night and the big day, he had been dishing out advice on everything from what to wear to what movie to play, right down to critiquing the meager food stock in your fridge.

“That’s it, you need to go grocery shopping.”

“I can't afford that right now!”

“Just get Instacart. I don’t care. This apartment is as bare-bones as it gets.”

“I have popcorn, soda, and some chocolate for Halloween when I'm giving them out.”

“First of all, popcorn isn’t actually food. Second, prebiotic soda doesn’t count as real soda. And if you can get chocolate, then you can definitely manage to buy some real groceries.”  

But just as you were about to respond, luck decided to abandon you with a sharp knock at the door. “No time!” you hissed, “now scr—oh, you’re already gone.”  

One moment he was there, and the next, he had vanished. Now, it was all on you, and nothing felt more nerve-wracking. You tugged your shorts down just enough to cover the rest of your bottom, anxiety buzzing in your chest. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence before swinging it open to reveal who was waiting outside.

“Seungkwan, hey!”  

“Hey!” he grinned, his Halloween-themed vest adding a playful touch to his outfit as he juggled a couple of bags in his arms. “You didn’t ask, but I thought I’d surprise you with some food. Pumpkin-spiced spaghetti and meatballs.”  

“Oh, uhhh…”  

He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just messing with you! It’s actually butternut squash gnocchi and some stuffed peppers that look like pumpkins.”  

“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”  

“Yeah, it’s festive without going overboard.”  

You nodded in agreement, feeling a warm rush of relief. “Come in.”  

As you stepped aside to let him in, you couldn’t help but notice how wholesomely he was dressed compared to your casual attire. Suddenly, you felt a pang of self-consciousness.  

“I like your sweater,” you said, trying to mask your growing insecurity.  

He looked down, a hint of modesty crossing his face. “Yeah, I think it’s just the right amount of festive, but—”  

“It’s festive but not overboard,” you responded, playfully tossing his words right back at him.  

He grinned, “Exactly!”  

You smiled back, feeling a wave of warmth as Seungkwan's presence began to calm your nerves. As he settled into the familiar space of your apartment, you couldn’t help but discreetly scan the room for any signs of your ghoulish roommate. Half-relieved to find nothing, half-disappointed that your spectral “backup” was nowhere in sight, you let out a quiet sigh. And now it was just you—and the human you actually invited in.

Hesitantly, you eased into the spot next to him on the couch, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your hands were jittery as you picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies you’d lined up, your mind racing to figure out what to do next. 

You glanced at him, hoping for some sort of sign or direction, but the words caught in your throat. The longer you scrolled, the more painfully aware you became of the silence, as if it only heightened the nervous tension taking over your body, weirdly missing Jeonghan and how flawlessly he executed what he did yesterday.

"So, movies," you said, aiming the remote at the TV.

"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.

“I mean,” You raised a brow. "What do you have in mind? And there is a right answer."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, I love Halloween, but..."

"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

"I... really can’t handle scary movies. Halloween Town is probably my limit."

"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"

"Hey, don’t knock it. They had great graphics!"

"They had awful graphics!" you shot back, incredulous.

He grinned, half-joking but clearly standing by his point. "Yeah, now. But for its time?”

You shook your head in playful disbelief, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, your choice.”

You were left with very few options. Seungkwan had suggested a few festive, family-friendly titles, but you managed to persuade him to consider a couple of mild thrillers—some stupid but perfectly on theme.

“The zombie version of Twilight? Seriously? Zombies?" he repeated, stressing the idea with disbelief.

You shrugged, smiling from his reaction. “You might like it.”

He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?” 

The movie began to play, the take-out boxes popped open, and your nerves were on high alert, vibrating like something else does on a normal Friday night for you. Except now, it was just you and the incredible realization that the man you're very much interested in was mere inches away. You were a fucking wreck.

Surprisingly, Seungkwan was genuinely enjoying the film, finding unexpected humor and charm in the cringeworthy blockbuster. His laughter was soothing and infectious, gradually easing your nerves until you started to feel normal again. Why were you like this?

Wait, you felt normal again, but what was normal?

Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm. He immediately turned to face you, and your eyes locked, but suddenly they felt as if they belonged to someone else as if you were watching a different kind of film—a film where you were a separate character, experiencing everything from an alternate reality.

“Seungkwan,” your voice spoke, sounding foreign and distant as if someone else were taking control. Jeonghan? 

‘It was so painful to watch.’

Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.

“Hey,” he replied, his nerves speaking for him. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped from the depths of your throat, echoing Jeonghan’s playful menace. “You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”

Seungkwan audibly gulped, his eyes darting around as anxiety crept in. “We aren’t?”

“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Seungkwan’s ear. “Where’s that confidence you had yesterday?”

Seungkwan suddenly tossed a pillow onto his lap, speechless and blushing fiercely. “Sorry,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I never anticipated—”

“Oh, really? You never expected to do something other than watching movies?” Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you could feel Seungkwan melt into your touch with a gentle whimper.

A delighted sigh escaped you, fueled by Jeonghan’s newfound confidence coursing through your veins as your thumb traced the curve of Seungkwan’s Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

“You didn’t think for a second, I’d–you know–keep the night as is, did you?”

He softly groaned in his throat, feeling the tension seep inside him. “Are you suggesting?”

“I don’t want to just watch movies with you, Seungkwan. It’d be more fun to make our own. Isn’t that right?”

“...yes. God, yes.”

He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands, and pressed his lips to yours in a swift, hungry kiss, sending a surge of electricity through you as your tension unraveled in waves. His weight dipped against your body, pinning you against the rough tweed of the couch. His soft moans mingled with your breaths, muffled yet threatening, as if he were desperate to let loose and explore the desire in his heart while you were within reach.

‘That’s it.’

Your hand held the back of his head, catching strands between your fingers and tugged, ravaging his lips as if it’d be the last time you’d get a chance. You weren’t sure when Jeonghan gave you back your control, but in the heat of the moment, none of it mattered.

He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins and the fire kindling in your stomach; he had you wanting more with every passing second. His hands grabbed you recklessly, throwing his weight against you and squeezing your flesh until it was tender and malleable in his hands. This wasn’t something to unfold on the couch, you thought—not when a big, inviting bed lay just a few steps away, calling for you.

Your feet regained enough feeling to guide you off the couch, and before you knew it, you were stumbling toward your room, feverish and driven, with no thought of turning back. Your hands found his clothes, teasing beneath his holiday vest and up his torso, admiring the smooth flush of skin that graced your senses. He gasped, succumbing to your excitement and leaned into it, falling seamlessly into your rhythm.

“Didn’t want to stretch this, but,” he pulled the vest and shirt beneath over his head, tossing them aside in the corner. You let your hand linger longer on his body, running along the curve of his spine as he pulled you closer.

Seungkwan grasped your waist, savoring your lips with gentle strokes of his tongue before lifting you from the ground and onto the bed. Your bodies crushed against one another, peeling off articles of clothing one piece at a time until you were almost bare, expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.

“Seungkwan,” you called out in pleas, hands cradling the back of his neck as his hair fell over his eyes. “I want you so bad…”

“You’re telling me,” he managed to breathe out,  gripping your underwear at its hem and scrapping it over your hips as he pulled them down. “I’ve thought about you ever since I met you.”

Your heart bloomed in your chest, pleasantly startled by his confession. Your hands ran through his hand, pushing them over his forehead despite knowing they’d only fall back in place. “You were always so…friendly.”

He smiled, pressing it against the corner of your lips and decorating your cheeks and jaw with kisses. “Yeah. I always hoped that we’d be more than just friendly.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You pulled him back into a lip lock, parting your legs to give him access.

‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’

Jeonghan was like a wandering whisper, weaving through your thoughts as Seungkwan enveloped your senses. Seungkwan’s hands were on your body, touching what’s yours and making it his, where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.

‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’

“So wet…” Seungkwan said with ache, sounding like he was pleading.

His digits found your sensitivity and thumbed over your clit, stimulating you until your voice rang but the last thing you were doing was speaking. You became fluent in moans, fluid in body language, and perfect in Seungkwan. Your breath dragged on, panting against him as your leg hooked to his side, holding him with urgency.

‘So fucking horny…you were begging to be fucked, hmm?’

You couldn’t help but nod, hand lowering to find Seungkwan’s raging erection just within reach. He softly gasped, thrusting into your touch as you held his shaft, stroking his length that felt so full in your hands. So stiff, yet warm to the touch, almost tasting the tension on your tongue. 

‘Look at that size, huh? Imagine how that feels in you. Stretching your pussy and making you feel so full? Doesn’t that sound amazing?’

“I need you in me Seungkwan.” You begged in desperate pants, gripping him by the forearms. “I want to feel you inside me.”

There was a certain eagerness in his eyes, the kind that said he would do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat and succeed. You weren’t dealing with any average guy that wanted to get off. “Fuck,” he whispered, before lifting his upper body, putting himself on full display.

His physique was magnificent in every way, tantalizing and captivating like nothing you’ve ever encountered. You had an inkling of what he looked like under all his clothes, the veins always so prominent on his forearms and hands when he strained to reach something on a shelf, the line of his back when his lifted shirt revealed just a sliver of skin, or his wide hips, baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven. Never have you ever wanted to run your hands over something, nor have you ever wanted to sink your teeth into something. Yet, here was Seungkwan: utterly delectable.

Seungkwan dragged you by the ankles, moving you effortlessly as he angled himself between your legs, your molten heat practically dripping at the sight of him. His groan bounced off the walls, hand coming over your inner thighs and gently massaging your skin. As his kisses started to pepper over your legs, you felt your pussy physically throb, damned to eternal craving.

“You look like heaven,” He cried against your thighs. “Any protection?”

“It’s right–oh.” You picked up a rubber conveniently left at your nightstand, then handed it to Seungkwan. You‘re welcome.’

He set it aside with a smile and instead of putting it on, his face fell on your heat. He tasted you like it was worship; the dance of his tongue was his prayers, while your response flowed like a cascade of blessings. You whined when you felt him pursed around your clit, teeth barely grazing you as he sucked down like you’re the last bit of syrup in a dessert.

At the same time, his eyes glazed over to yours, a hand hovering over your chest, inaudibly asking permission, and when you gave him a wordless nod, he grabbed handfuls of your breasts. He kneaded you between his knuckles, rolling your buds between his fingers, and having you surrender to his chase.

“Seungkwan, please…”

Seungkwan’s eyes glimmered with pride, a sultry testament to the depth of his exploration. The longer he ventured, the more you found ogasmic relief, feeling every ounce of his efforts and every ounce of his pleasure. You held him by his hair, leg anchoring over his back, feeling his tongue massage your inner walls. His voice vibrates inside you, somehow stealing your breath, and filling you with utter euphoria. 

‘You feel that? How much he wants you? How much he craves you. He’s been waiting for this day. And you should reward him. Don’t you think?’

You tugged him up, watch him gasping for air, replace one pair of lips with another. You flipped him on his back, gaining momentum, and relishing in the power of control, and swallowing his gasps. You aligned the hilt of his cock towards you, ensuring you wrapped it protection before it sat between the slit of your folds. 

Seungkwan tilted his head back, his eyes glistening with desire as he admired you, his gaze revealing his thoughts like an open book.  "You're so sexy," he murmured, the words spilling out without hesitation. While his look said it all, hearing it felt like a heated rush of affirmation, and it made you want him more.

You pushed his length in you, feeling his size pulsate through you, and a moan managed to pass through your lips. Shivers ran down through you, goosebumps pebbling your skin, and you realized the raging presence of Seungkwan was going to be the death of you. As he rocked inside you, he held your hips in place, guiding your form up and down on lap, adjusting to your squeeze, and adjusting to how it contracts. “Oh my god, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Just like I wanted,” You teased. 

Your lips brushed against his neck, grazing your teeth over his skin before making passionate kisses to his neck, grinding down on his body until there isn’t a hint of space between your bodies. You were growing weary–albeit needy–chasing a high that was so close to be conquered. You felt it, Seungkwan felt it, and damn well Jeonghan felt it. You needed more, just a little more.

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of your lungs, as if something vital had escaped from within you, and your movements were put to a halt. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, pushing the hair way from your face. “Not sure what happened. I promise–”

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”

You heard his voice—or rather, an echo of Jeonghan’s voice—calling from below you, and as you met his gaze in Seungkwan’s eyes, your expression widened in shock. “Jeonghan,” you declared menacingly.

“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.

You nudged at the body beneath you, careful of not hurting the host. “Get out of this poor human’s body right now! What happened to consent?”

“Oh, he’s very much consenting to the thrill of this level of intimacy,” Jeonghan replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”

“Relax, he won’t remember a thing. My spirit won’t let him. All he’ll recall is the good time he had,” the body thief winked playfully.

“Bullshit! Do what’s right and let the boy go.”

“But I am doing what’s right.” His grip tightened around your hips, pushing Seungkwan’s cock deeper in you as if it was possible and ebbing weak moans from as he pulled you closer, a wicked smile dancing on his lips. “So right.”

“J-Jeonghan,” you stammered, your pulse quickening.

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”

Your head was screaming all kinds of denial, but your body thrived off his confidence, his energy was flowing through you, splitting through you and hitting a spot of pliancy. This was so wrong. “This…this is violating…for him…”

“But you love it, don’t you? It’s like a wicked thrill, a tantalizing pleasure that feeds your deepest, most tumultuous desires.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the pulsating cock rocking your very core. “And what kind of desires is that?”

“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”

You shook your head, fingers tightening around Seungkwan’s shoulders in a desperate bid for security as you fought against Jeonghan’s seductive temptations. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”

“It’s Seungkwan I can’t get off of,” You clarified.

You could recognize Jeonghan’s smile, even though it was plastered on Seungkwan’s face—so conniving, so devilish. It exuded an intoxicating power that was inhumane, but irresistible. “But it's me you’re riding–and fucking hell–you look so good doing it.”

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, pleading for release from his coercion, but as you feared, mercy eluded you entirely.

“Yes,” His palm rode up your body, his lips parting in haughty confidence. “Beg for me, beg for me to fuck you full.”

“...Fuck it. I want you to fuck me full.” You accepted him, feeling the tension of the cock inside you, ripple waves straight into your heat. 

Mindlessly, you accepted his domineering hand that landed on your mouth, feeling it travel past your lips, parting way with his thumb. You wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking them like candy, and the shame that once enveloped your paradoxical feelings dissipated, leaving only a deep hunger in its wake. 

Whether it was Jeonghan or Seungkwan beneath you, it was all true to its very core. You had an undeniable infatuation for your cute neighbor and a strange fascination with the handsome ghost. The connection you felt with both was more than palpable, leaving you with an unexplained frenzy of emotions that would require extensive therapy. You knew the logical choice was the one who was alive, but you had never considered that you could have both—especially not in such a chaotic, unorthodox three-way.

“Look at what a slut you are for us, your lips so perfect wrapped around these slender fingers of his.”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly muttered to yourself, grinding harder, sucking Seungkwan’s fingers deeper, and gradually succumbing to Jeonghan’s demands.

Jeonghan let out a deep, rolling laugh that resonated from Seungkwan’s core, a sound so rich and dark it sent a momentary unease through you. “You’re simply giving into your desires, why fight it?”

“You damn well know why,” you spat out his fingers and gritted your teeth.

“Now that’s not nice,” His hand covered the shape of your ass, cupping them in his palms, “Do I need to show you how to be nicer to me?”

“Jeonghan,” you groaned, feeling his digits dig into your flesh as he spread them apart. 

“What’s that, baby?” he experimented, “Looks like I have to make this a teaching opportunity after all? Because you can’t show your gratitude?”

“Jeonghan, please.”

“Well, if you insist.” With an unexplainable, arcane, supernatural force, the dynamics were switched and Jeonghan had you on your stomach, ass conveniently placed in from of him. 

“Jeonghan!”

"I always knew you looked good from every angle, but wow—this one is something else." His hand glided over your curves, Seungkwan’s cock splitting down your divide, you grasped your thirst.

Anticipation was wreaking havoc on your sanity, leaving you in a deafening silence as you waited for Jeonghan to make his move, impatience following. “Will you just–”

A hand clashed against your backside, your skin stinging from impact, and relieving you from a ched yelp. Jeonghan braced you against a groin, the erection nudging at your skin. “So needy,” he chuckled. You felt the tip tease along your slip, eventually filling you up in that familiar way.

You whimper, the size still enticingly foreign, and back into his weight, feel yourself travel all the way down to the base.

“An impatient,” Jeonghan softly groans, grounding himself to you in careful, yet sharp thrusts.

You balled your sheets into fists, your voice muffled as you buried your face in a pillow.

He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”

“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.

He slammed down on you, releasing a squeaky spring sound from the bed, both embarrassing and strangely arousing. “Even when I do that?”

“Yes…more please…”

Jeonghan repeated the move, finding a steady rhythm, and watched as your skin and flesh recoiled back against him. He could feel his host basking in the intensity of this pleasure, tears swelling his eyes as your moans echoed in his ears, memorizing from the decibels your voice reached, to the way you looked from behind, and even how the flesh of thighs spilled when you collapsed wearily on the mattress.

“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.

“Stop it,” you whined.

“Stop what? Showing you how fucking perfect you are taking my cock?” He grunted.

You pressed your lips in a firm lip, clawing down on the bed as your core tightened, every pound drilling into you, giving into his indulgence and taking you along with him. He made every thrust count as the echo of skin slapping faded into the background.

“Oh please, help me cum.” You begged. “Please, please, please…”

His pace quickened, his rhythm erratic. “Yeah, you want you cum coat around my cock like a good little whore.”

“Yes, Jeonghan please, just give it to me.”

“You asked, and you shall receive.”

Finally, he bottomed out into you, unleashing the reins he held to prolong this moment and cut them lose. Your body was no longer yours, weakened by the spirit draining your energy. Your jaw fell slack, unable to close, a waning moaning stretching for miles, ecstasy coursing through your veins. 

You said one name, then another, and then again. This was really confusing but you were here, pounded into obvious for what it seems like endlessly, until you realized you were full and not with what you had initially anticipated. In the remenance of fatigue from the sex, you fail to notice the lack of protetction seeing as proof of you supernatural rendezvous was seeping out of you like a slow river.

“Jeonghan!” 

“What?” he drowsily answered as he claimed the side of the bed besides you, evidently using the extent of Seungkwan’s body.

“What the fuck happened to the condom?”

“Please, that’s my own cum.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ectoplasm, you know. Comes from all sorts of places.”

“I hate you so much—am I gonna get pregnant with ghost kids?”

“Relax, and no you aren’t. It’s as effective as…something really ineffective–fuck, I’m tired.”

“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”

“He’s fine and his release became as good as mine when I possessed his body. His soul is asleep right about now, having a catnap. Now come here.” he pulled you towards him, throwing your covers over you and keeping you away from the draft into to room, slipping you into his arms. “Stop tiring yourself out any further and rest. Everything will be fine when he wakes up like a man that got laid: amazing.”

“Fine,” muttered with heavy eye lids, “but only because im really tired.”

And from that moment sleep was easy.

You woke up to those same arms, now only asleep and less “ghost-like” and snuggled up closer to him, a newly acclaimed heat source. A soft chuckle escaped him, holding you tighter in his embrace as a kiss fell on the top of your forehead. “Hey there.”

You smile, cupping the side of his face in your hand. “Hi.”

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he said, planting another kiss on your nose. “Is it weird to say it felt so good I kinda blacked out?”

“Ha,” you shook your head, knowing the truth, “No, but thank you for the massive compliment.”

He grinned, a flush of red coating his cheeks, before pulling you into a deep and wonderful kiss, entanging his legs with yours. He seeped into realization when he found the mess between your legs, untouched since sex. “Oh shit, i did that, didn’t i?”

“It’s okay, I…have some sort of protection.”

“One moment.” Seungkwan came up naked from the bed, momentarily left the room, and with a noticeably wet hand towel. “I usually have an extra clean one on hand for after my workout. Glad I brought a backpack for no reason today.

As he inched closer, he sat between your legs, uncovering you from the blanket, and politely asked if he could help. When he received your consent, he brought it up to the mess, gently swiping between every crevice, ridding any remnants of cum that might have been left over. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you reassure, visibly gushing.

“Of course, I do.” He insisted, a sincere smile gracing his features. “It's my pleasure taking care of you.”

It was so disorienting going from the original to Jeonghan’s version and back to the original Seungkwan. As if you were once looking through a window of an alternate reality. Still a lot to process what happened.

“I don’t usually do this,” you try explaining yourself, “I just…I’ve been into you for a long time and I just thought, maybe, you felt the same.”

“I do,” he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “A lot.”

“So you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”

“I wouldn’t object to the idea,” he grinned, “especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”

[simpxxstan]

Nobody Else (part 1)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 13k

warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!

a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.

hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!

You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 

Objectively speaking, no. 

Subjectively speaking, not at all. 

You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 

So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 

After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 

It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 

It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 

Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 

Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 

But never enough. 

“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”

He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 

His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”

“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.

“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”

“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”

“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?

From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 

“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.

You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 

“Do you need help?”

You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 

He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 

“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”

“But you just wore lipstick?”

“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 

“Well, how do I look?”

His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 

“They’ll love you.”

You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.

“They always do.”

_

And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 

Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 

But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 

And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 

Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 

He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 

“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 

“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”

You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”

“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 

You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 

“Rich of you to say so.”

You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 

“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 

You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 

_

The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 

It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 

But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 

_

It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.

Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 

“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 

And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 

Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 

And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 

And you had liked it. 

That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.

Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 

You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 

“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”

“The chauffeur was there.” 

“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 

“Are you sure?”

His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.

“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 

“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”

“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”

You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”

“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 

“What are your terms?”

_

You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 

No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 

_

You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”

The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.

“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”

“I can get my own. See you there.”

He cuts the call. 

What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-

“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 

“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 

“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”

Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 

_

Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 

You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.

There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 

“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”

Fun. 

As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 

“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”

“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”

_

They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 

“Will you never leave me alone?” 

He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”

“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”

“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”

“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”

“Hmm-”

The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 

“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 

“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 

“For dinner.” 

You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”

He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”

“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”

“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 

“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”

“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”

“I regret nothing.”

“We’ll see.”

_

“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”

“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 

“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 

“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”

“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”

“You won’t come along?”

“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”

“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

_

“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”

You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 

You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 

“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”

You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”

Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 

“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.

Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”

Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.

“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 

Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”

“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 

“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 

“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”

“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 

Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”

_

At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 

“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”

You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 

“You came. I knew you’d come.”

“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 

“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 

“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”

“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”

“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 

“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”

You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 

“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 

You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Aren’t there cameras?”

“Will pay for them to be turned off.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”

You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 

“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“I want it too.”

“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?

“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.

“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 

“Sir please!” 

“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”

“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”

He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 

But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 

It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 

Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.

“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 

You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 

That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.

_

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 

Fuck. 

What have you done?

“How late am I?” 

“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 

“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.

By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.

After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 

Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 

Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?

_

Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 

After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 

You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 

It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 

Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 

“It’s one of those nights, huh?”

He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 

“How’s work treating you?”

“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?

“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?

“Come here, princess.” 

That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 

“Hmm, low sugar.” 

Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 

As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 

“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 

It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 

You wonder why he’s so happy. 

But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 

“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 

He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 

“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 

“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 

“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 

“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 

“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”

He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 

“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 

“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.

“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”

_

The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 

You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 

Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 

Your shirt is ripped again. 

You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 

“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”

“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”

“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”

“Wonwoo!” 

“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”

His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.

“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”

“This arrangement has to stop.”

He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-

“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”

“Wonwoo-”

“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.

“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 

“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 

“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”

His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 

“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 

You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 

“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 

He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”

You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 

“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 

You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 

“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 

You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 

“Darl-”

“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”

“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, ��you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”

You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 

You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 

“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”

“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 

“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”

“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 

“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.

“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 

“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!

“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”

“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 

“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 

“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 

You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 

“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”

_

Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 

“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 

“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 

“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 

It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 

“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 

“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.

“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 

Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.

“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”

Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”

“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 

You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 

“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.

“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 

“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”

“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”

“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”

“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”

“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”

You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”

“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”

That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.

“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”

Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”

Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 

“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.

“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”

“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 

“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”

“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 

Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  

_

Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 

You sigh, and nod your yes.

_

part 2 is now out!

[changisworld]

fwb + jelous seungmin please....................................

OMG YES YES YES & YES AGAIN!!

i got carried away while writing this but i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it<3

Main masterlist here

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut

WORD COUNT; 3,684

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

any reblogs/ comments are deeply appreciated!!

WARNINGS; Dom! seungmin, Sub!reader, ruined orgasm, thigh riding, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, dacryphilia, begging, meanie seungmin, daddy kink, jealous seungmin, choking, hair pulling, finger sucking,slapping ((!! LACK OF PROPER AFTERCARE!! it’s brief!!)) Other skz members are mentioned, it’s IDOL!AU

OTHER WARNING; this story involves alcohol, reader & seungmin are tipsy but sober enough to make adult decisions. Both non-verbally consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are currently backstage with the members & a few members of staff, helping them pack their items away to leave the showcase, after winning yet another award. You got acquainted with the boys through work, you were called asking if you wanted to be a stylist for a ‘well known kpop group’ & you thought of the money & obviously said yes, but you were in disbelief when it was straykids you would be styling. You were very nervous & shy at first to be working with them but you have now became one of their closest friends other than the other boys themselves & have worked with them for almost 3 years.

They regularly invite you over to their dorm to watch the latest kdramas, let you watch them record their music so you can ‘get an idea of the vibe for the outfits’(changbins words) & so on. Out of all the guys, you would say your closest friend is hyunjin… but behind closed doors, seungmin is your closest friend by a mile. Seungmin & you would not necessarily avoid each other, but you got a vibe he didn’t really like you so you would only really speak when necessary, but that all changed one night when you, Seungmin, Jeongin & Bangchan were at the dorms watching movies but you had all run out of snacks so Jeongin & Chan went to the store to get some more. One thing lead to another & you & Seungmin ended up kissing & his dick somehow ended up in your mouth.

Ever since then, Seungmin would somehow find ways to get you alone, whether that be dragging you into a janitor cupboard or making up a random issue with the outfit during dress rehearsals just so you could both leave the room to completely fix the issue, just for him to instead, completely ruin your cunt while his members are in the next room completely unaware.When you don’t come back since your legs can no longer do what they are intended for, the guys wouldn’t really think too much if you didn’t come back with him since they all know how busy you are with phone calls & things, but in the odd occasion they do ask, seungmin has a smooth tongue & can think of an excuse that wont make them think twice.

You all finish packing the boys items away & leave through the back door & divide yourselves into the 3 5 seater cars, You end up with another staff member in the front, Hyunjin on your left, you in the middle & As your luck has it… seungmin on the right. You & seungmin have previously agreed to try keep your arrangement secret just so you both don’t need to hear about it 24/7 from other members, so he only speaks when spoken to.

You & hyunjin talk about random things & share some laughs, hyunjin tries to include seungmin in the conversation but he dismisses it, you can tell he’s not tired so you don’t know what’s bothering him.

“Minnie don’t get too tired, we still gotta celebrate, we have a booth booked at the other end of Seoul since we won” Hyunjin reaches over you & taps seungmin playfully, he just smiles at him & looks out the window, ‘strange but okay’ you think to yourself.

After a quick stop back at the dorms & changing into better clothes for the occasion (yes you have some clothes at their dorm saved for things like this) You along with just the guys & some security come with you. You take one last look in the mirror by the front door & make sure you look okay, your figure is complimented beautifully by the dress you are wearing, curves looking flattering in all the right places.

“Oh look y/n we are matching! wearing the same colour”

You turn around & smile as you see hyunjin, wearing a satin dress shirt matching the colour of your dress, you open your mouth to say something as you see seungmin walk towards the door along with Leeknow which sparks an idea, flirt with hyunjin, afterall you’re not blind you know he’s attractive & secondly, it lights something inside you knowing seungmin will get jealous, but can’t say or do anything about it.

“aw yeah we are jinnie, you look good as always” You shoot him a smile before hearing chan say ‘let’s go’ & you walk ahead, making sure to sway your hips slightly knowing not only seungmin but also hyunjin was no doubt also looking.

You all get to the club not too long after & all make your way to the booth as the security sits not too far away, it’s just you, Changbin & Felix’ girlfriend & then you along with the members themselves, you’re sat next to Han & you made sure you sat next to seungmin too, just to see if he would react. Chan orders some expensive tequila to the table & you all start chatting amongst yourselves, you feel your eyes being pulled back to hyunjin every few minutes though, listening intensely to everything he would say, watching the way his lips moved. Seungmin hit you slightly on your leg when he notices you pretty much eye-fucking him from the other end of the table, you shoot a glance to seungmin & pretty much see fire in his eyes, you give him a cheeky smile then turn away again to continue your conversations.

Around an hour later Half of the members had gotten up & spread across the club, either dancing or at the bar getting drinks, you have no idea. You were sat with Changbins girlfriend when he comes over & sweet talks her away, probably to go fuck in the dirty bathroom. you roll your eyes as they leave & finish your drink before you crawl out of the end of the booth up to the bar to get another one.

You order your drink while putting your body weight into the bar as you lean against it, swaying your head to the music playing when you feel someone tapping your arm as they stand next to you, you look to your side & see it’s seungmin, who doesn’t look the most impressed person on earth

“what the fuck do you think you’re playing at y/n hm?

“what are you even talking about min-seungmin, you’ve been all weird since this morning what’s bothering you hmmm?”

you ask him with slightly hooded eyes, feeling tipsy, giving you a bit more confidence than usual, meaning you feel more comfortable teasing seungmin

“you. you’re bothering me. eyefucking my friend as you’re sat right next to me, complimenting him too, what the fuck are you playing at?”

He asks you, eyebrows raised before leaning in & speaking at a normal noise level, just loud enough for only you to hear over the loud music.

“Do you forget who you belong to baby hm? does your brain actually melt that much every time my dick is inside you you can’t remember who is fucking you hm? is that why you’re getting me & hyunjin confused?”

you blush at his words & your stomach & you know it’s not because of the alchohol. You go to open your mouth before Jeongin comes up to you both & after a few minutes of talking, Seungmin & Jeongin leave to go do something you didn’t even listen to.

You take a deep breath, flustered at what seungmin said to you, you finally receive your drink, you grab the straw when you feel yet another person tapping your arm. You sway yourself around to see hyunjin this time.

“since when were you n seungmin friends hm?” he asks you, smirking down at you slightly, eyebrow piercing shining from all the lights.

“ah, he was just asking for eh, drink recommendations, he didn’t like the sound of what i recommended though” You joke with him, he buys your story.

“ahh, well what drink do you have hm? that looks good” He nods towards your drink

“ahh, it’s a strawberry daiquiri, you never had one? you’re missing out”

“hmm i don’t think so, but i don’t want to order one & not like it you know? could i have a sip pleeeaaaaseee”

He gives you a smile full of teeth & you wanna see where this goes, his smile is so compelling afterall, it’s thee hwang hyunjin

“you’re a millionaire, im sure you can afford it jinnie but hmm,i’m feeling nice today & since you won that award you can have a SIP.” You offer your drink to him & he takes a sip from the thick paper straw the bartender gave you. He lets out a hum of approval before using the straw to scoop out the half strawberry that’s also in your drink & putting it in-between his fingers.

“hey no! i wanted that, don’t eat it hyunjin!”

You try to snatch your drink along with the strawberry out his hand but he simply moves it away from you, his arms being longer than yours.

“I want it too thoughhhh, why not we just share hm? here, i’ll put some of the strawberry in my mouth & then you pit the other part in your mouth hm? we can take a bite each”

You scan your eyes around the room & see seungmin, Jeongin & also Leeknow were back at the booths, taking shots but seungmin kept glancing at you, you smile at hyunjin again, now knowing he is watching you.

“sounds fun, so fineee, i want the top half though!” Hyunjin laughs as he flips it around so he has the bottom half & leans forward & down, so you can lean in & get the other half. You both suck the flavouring out of the strawberry & you decide to take it a step further by biting the strawberry, making you lean in that bit closer & kissing the side of hyunjins lips.

You lean back & giggle at his slightly flushed expression & he laughs a bit too after a moment

“didn’t know you were such a flirt y/n, wouldn’t think you were the type”

“i guess i’m just full of surprises then hmm”

you playfully hum, playing with your hair & looking into his eyes.

“Why not, i quickly go to the bathroom & then we can go dance hm?”

“that would be wonderful jinnie, don’t keep me waiting”

Hyunjin gives you a wink before walking through the crowd of people, out of sight.

You smile to yourself & start drinking your drink again when no longer than 30 seconds later, you’re being dragged by the arm. You don’t even need to properly look at the face to know who it is, the familiar sized & shaped rings along with those fingers, you can tell from a mile away. You are practically running by how fast seungmin is walking past the crowds of people. Once you end up outside the club you finally yank your arm away.

“seungmin what the fuck are you doing? that’s one way to cause a damn scene?! do you just simply forget who you are? people could be watching!”

“i don’t give a fuck! & no MY question is do you forget who you are? kissing hyunjin? are you fucking serious?”

“it was a kiss on the side of the damn lips seungmin, we simply shared a strawberry from my daiquiri, speaking of which, you want a sip hm? maybe not from the straw though, hyunjins germs are on that”

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully before holding your drink out & shaking it around slightly.Seungmins jaw clenches & he knocks the class out of your hand, it smashing on the sidewalk beside you.

“what the fu-“

“shut the hell up, wait right here y/n i’m warning you” Before you can even ask him a question he is hastily walking away from you back into the club, anger pretty much physically radiating off him. You scoff & start kicking some random rocks you find on the ground, saddened by your delicious drink that’s now all over the floor.

A minute later seungmin comes back out with a set of car keys, given to him by one of the security guards who was watching over the other members, how he got himself out of having one of the guards wanting to follow him is beyond you. He walks straight past you across the parking lot to one of the tinted windowed cars & unlocks it, expecting you to follow, & follow you do.

Once you both get over to the car he swings open the back door & turns around to look at you, his eyes scan you up & down in your dress.

“get in.” You don’t think twice before practically leaping into the back seat & scooting over so your back is against the other side door, Seungmin crawls in after you & shuts the door before locking it, away from peeping eyes.

As soon as the lock clicks, he is on you like a house on fire. You both start roughly making out, teeth clashing together & tongues fighting for dominance. He starts biting & pulling your bottom lips as he is practically ripping off the top of your dress, exposing your lack of bra.

“No bra? seriously? you were seriously *begging* to be fucked hm? who were you hoping to fuck you huh? me? or hyunjin??”

You look at him dazed, trying to appreciate how good he looks when he is angry but you snap out of it as he slaps your tit making you jump.

“was just uncomfortable to wear, you have never complained before” You say to him, lips reddened by the intense kissing, breathing through your teeth due to lack of breath. Seungmin smirks before putting his hand across your neck & squeezing slightly before you can even blink & leans into your ear & says:

“you wanna tease hm? you know how that works out for you, y/n how drunk are you hm?” He bites your earlobe before moving back slightly to properly look at you, his hand slightly loosening from your neck

“like 3 shots & 2 drinks, i’m not drunk just buzzed, swear.”

“So you just acted like such a whore for no reason hm? trying to get under my skin? or were you trying to get under hyunjins skin physically hm? gonna sleep with him like a slut? at that point you should just fuck all the other members, you’d like that wouldn’t you? it’s disgusting & sad really… so desperate… maybe i’ll just leave right now since i clearly cant satisfy you hmm?” He asks in a condescending tone & you instantly feel your panties get wet at his words.

“minnie please.. i didn’t mean it, only want you, was just a bit of fun, please baby i’m sorry” You put your hand over the one he is holding around your neck & caress it, breathing out your mouth due to the slight lack of air.

“Don’t call me baby you don’t deserve it, if you’re so sorry why not show me hm?show me how much of a desperate whore you are for my attention. take your panties off & straddle me.”

Seungmin lets go of your neck & moves away from you & fully sits on the seat as you scurry to get rid of your wet panties & straddle him. He picks them up off the seat you threw them on & hooks his finger in your mouth to pull it open enough for him to put the soiled panties in your mouth, you whine.

“Now, ride my thigh until you cum. if you can finish yourself off i’ll maybe put my cock in your hole hm? how does that sound?”

He slaps you on the cheek when you don’t reply instantly & pinches your nipples tightly as you nod your head, agreeing before starting a quick & ragged rhythm.

You reach out to hold his chest as you grind on his thigh but he stops you & pulls them away & holds both your wrists together with one of his hands.

“Don’t even think about touching me, you don’t deserve it, god knows where your hands have been.” He says, words full of venom. You feel your eyes tearing up from lack of pleasure but also his words, you love it so badly.

You start to feel your high approaching after another 7/8 minutes of grinding against him, your face stained with tears at this point. Seungmin knows you like the back of your hand & right as you start to bubble over, he uses his strength to lift your hips off his thigh, ruining your orgasmn. you begin squirming & whining, heartbroken over the orgasm that slipped through your fingers. He tosses you so you’re lying across the seats on your back as he spreads your legs & slotting himself between them.

He pulls his dick out, looking hard enough to smash a window & Jerks it a few times before slapping it over your dripping heat.

“Beg me, tell me *why* you deserve it.”

You pull the panties that are still stuffed in your mouth & toss them aside.

“Minnie please.. i want it so badly, only your cock fills me up right, i need it so badly minnie please”

He rolls his eyes at your words but slots just the tip at your entrance & pushes ONLY the tip in. you let out a tiny whine as he leans over so his face is level with yours.

“open your mouth.” You do as he says no question asked & he spits into your mouth before slapping your tits again then sitting back up. Without warning he buries himself to the hilt & you both let out a moan in unison.

He takes mercy on you & gives you a quick minute to be stretched enough to be comfortable before pulling out again & manhandling you over so you’re now on your hands & knees.

“As much as i hate to say it, i don’t blame hyunjin for fiending over you, your ass is to die for. too bad it’s just for me, isn’t it hunny?”

He smacks your ass before pressing into you again without warning. He starts a relentless pace instantly & your brain practically melts.

“Mi-nnie p-pulease slow down, too-too much..”

You move your hand to push against his pelvis to try stop the hard pounding you’re being given but he just simply grabs your wrist & presses it into your lower back.

“that’s not my name, dumb baby already lost her mind?don’t tell me what’s too much, you know the safe word if you need it. i know your body better than you, better than anyone. you can take it, you will take it. tell me, could hyunjin fuck you like this hm?”

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head & his words leave your brain the second they enter it, Seungmin doesn’t like this though & grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail & pulls you up so you’re against his chest, not slowing his pace at all.

“when i ask a question, i want an answer.”

He reaches down & slaps your clit before starting to suck on your neck

“No..no- fuck daddy no! nob-nobody could ever f-fuck me like this, n-not even hyu-“

Before you can even finish saying his name, he stuffs his index & middle finger in your mouth to shut you up. You are thankful for him holding you up by the hair or else you would just be a puddle on the seat. You squeal around his fingers & clench against seungmins dick as you cum all over him, creaming his cock. He fucks you through it before letting go of you carefully enough so you didn’t hurt yourself as he lays you on the seats face down, ass still in the air as he chases his own release.

“Surprised you didn’t squirt this time baby, i would help you get there since i know how messy you love to be but you don’t deserve it. Don’t want you to mess up these seats either for my band mates who would need to sit on this. Only good girls get to cum isn’t that right princess?” He taps your back to get you to respond but only moans come out as a response, your knuckles turning white from gripping the side of the seat.

His thrusts start to get more uneven as he starts groaning & gripping your hips with more strength that’s definitely going to leave bruises. He leans forward so his chest is pressed against your back & sucks a mark into your shoulder as he cums inside you, you feel it filling you & you let out a moan & shiver.

You both stay like that for a minute, catching your breath back. He then pulls out & helps you sit up before he kisses your cheek & moves your damp hair out of your face. He reaches over to the cup holder & grabs a water bottle that was left by one of the other members or drivers in the car & takes a drink before handing it to you, before getting dressed. You don’t mind the silence, it’s comfortable. you take a moment to draw a smiley face on the now completely fogged up window & you let out a chuckle, seungmin looks over & chuckles too. He helps you find your panties & helps you put your dress back on & kisses your head.

“Sorry for getting all jealous phycho, but if you go near my friends or anyone for that matter again, it won’t be the same, you’re mine y/n.”

You sigh & think about what he said.

“Until we become anything exclusive i’m not a puppet.”

You pull out your phone to try fix your now completely ruined makeup. Seungmin sighs before unlocking the car door & stepping out.

“i’m going back inside, oh & eh, i’ll think about that.” He says, before closing the door & walking back into the club.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Any Weight - Idia

Author Notes: So I really didn't know what I was going to post today in terms of oneshots, so this happened. This fic has been sitting my google docs for quite while and honestly started out life as practice for writing Idia. I wrote this and edite it while listening to the song "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence in the Machine. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ fluff with angst/ comfort/ romance highly implied/ Spoilers for Ignihyde Chapter

Word Count: 1539

Idia shifted slightly as you leaned against his back, reading some book as he farmed one of his games. And in easy, quiet moments like this, with the weight of your body resting gently against his, feeling like a silent but ever-present promise, it was easy to forget the truth of his situation. Of his life.

But Idia was cursed. It was a weighty, but simple truth that had hung over his head for his entire life. Because he’d never known a life where he wasn’t cursed.

Idia was cursed to remain chained to the Island of Woe, to S.T.Y.X., and to guard the remains of those who’d fallen prey to their own magic and dark thoughts, just like he almost had back when you’d come all the way to S.T.Y.X.’s headquarters after Grim and your friends.

Idia was also cursed to never be able to feel darkness’s embrace, which could hide even the greatest of shames, until the light inevitably came. Because his hair always shone that cold blue light on him. Never letting him hide away from the gaze of all those who looked upon him in horror or disgust and saw all of his many flaws.

Idia was even cursed by his own personality. Unable to tolerate being around others without shutting down and drowning in their silent gazes. Judgmental, fearful, and sometimes pitying, no matter how he felt about it.

It was disgusting, infuriating, and so many other things that left him filled with ire towards anyone and everyone who didn’t understand him or his life. If they were going to gawk at him, then he would mock them for their naive, stupid views, and avoid them. There was no use in bothering with people who would never care.

After all, his life had been decided for him from the very moment he’d been born.

And all of those reasons, as well as so many others, were why he’d pushed you away initially. A laughable thought now, considering you were sitting on his bed, with your back pressed to his in a gentle reminder of your presence that, rather than causing him to tense like so many did, made him relax into the silence that rested easily between the two of you.

But when he’d first met you, he never would have imagined this. Not with how you’d seemed so strange. 

A weirdo, to be sure, with the way your gaze had never held that crushing weight that threatened to smother him that so many others had.

Some person from another world who apparently had far greater concerns than a flame-haired freak that lived in some other dorm. And, to an extent, Idia had been able to respect that.

It had quickly become obvious that you were more than just a weirdo, though. If nothing else, you were capable of handling and surviving numerous overblots. And even as he was getting to know you, it had already been clear to Idia that you were capable of so much more than him.

And that was still clear to him even today. Because if he was a curse, then you were more akin to a blessing.

A blessing who stepped in and stopped overblots from destroying their victims rather than studying the remains of those who were already done for.

A blessing who could see people at their very worst, and still accept them.

And finally, you were a blessing in that you had a personality that was like a balm to introverts. A person he could just be himself around without having to be surrounded by the multitude of people who’d already noticed your calming demeanor.

In reality, Idia knew you weren’t a blessing. Something so good could never survive in a school like this one. And he’d experienced firsthand exactly how much of a pest you could be.

But even with that knowledge, there were still moments when you were like a protagonist with the way you stood out so glaringly from the crowd.

Of course, Idia stood out from the crowd as well, but never in a remotely good way. 

At odds with this, your only supposedly negative quality was that you lacked magic. And while it did make your life a pain sometimes, you never let it bother you. Not like how Idia let his negative qualities and anything he lacked burden him.

And it was a heavy burden. A heavy burden that Idia knew made him equally heavy and unpleasant to be around. Because Idia was no fool. He knew his presence, his friendship, and even his very existence was a weighty one. He could easily drag a person down to their doom with the curses that trailed after him, like an entourage that couldn’t and wouldn’t go unnoticed.

And all of those reasons, plus a myriad of others, were why your presence here, with him, right now ought to be strange. But it wasn’t. In fact, it was perfectly normal for you to hang out with him in the solace of his room. Sometimes gaming with him, and sometimes just doing your own thing in silent companionship.

The selfish part of him clung to both you and your presence even as he continued to face his game in silence. 

Were he just a bit bolder, it would be easy to imagine himself turning to face you and wrapping his arms around your neck, with his fingers curling around your temple as if they could crown you as he cradled you to him.

But what could he ever crown you with other than the knowledge that you deserved far better?

It was his way of betraying you, and he knew that. His betrayal was one of the reasons he never tried to cross the dotted line that strained to keep you and him from growing any closer. Similarly, it was the reason the silence remained between the two of you as Idia pondered all of the oddities that were your relationship with him.

Because you supported him. Embracing him in your arms like he was weightless, rather than the way he knew he had to be a chain tangling itself around your ankles, threatening to trip you up and drag you down.

But you didn’t let him sink, and you didn't get pulled down by him. 

It was like you were a hero in some tropey anime. Willing to plunge into the very deepest of sorrows and pull him out. Never fearing the chances of drowning in the deep darkness of his curses, but also not shunning the light that revealed all. Good and bad.

Or if you did fear it, you didn’t let that fear hold you back. And perhaps that thought was even more alarming. Because that meant you cared about him enough to not let fear hold you back.

Either way, you seemed to just accept both his good and bad traits. Taking it all on with a smile not unlike the one you’d worn when you’d first forced your way into his life.

You’d shrugged off his moody words and met his gaze with your smiling one, “Nobody’s perfect, and it’s not like you’re the only guy at NRC who has overblotted or has caused me problems.”

You were definitely still a strange one, but Idia could no longer view that strangeness as bad. How could he when you could somehow look at the chains that surrounded him, binding him to his curses and doing their best to condemn him and those he chose to tie himself to, and smile in the face of it all? 

But as frustrating as your strange but oddly charming weirdness was, it made him want to do better.

To support you just like how you supported him. To let you know that even in this world that was not your own, you weren’t alone.

If you could willingly walk into that never-ending light that constantly showed his every weakness to the entire, unforgiving, and uncaring world, then he would hide you in the darkness and carry you when it hurt too much.

Because he knew it hurt, even if you hid it well with that smile that only seemed to truly fail you when you were facing an overblot or when the mention of your home came up.

Even if you were strong enough to carry him and all his curses, Idia knew it hurt and that the nights were long for you. 

In fact, it was obvious to him.

Because that weight you carried was why, even after having made friends and forged yourself a family, you still sought your own world. And he recognized that weight’s presence. How could he not when he was all too familiar with carrying a burden all his own?

But you would never be too heavy for him. Not when he was used to carrying the weight of his own curses.

He could carry you, and you would never drag him down. In fact, he doubted your feet would ever even touch the ground. Because, just like how the weight of you leaning against him was more of a comfort than a burden, he knew that, if it was you, he could carry any weight.

[asahicore]

gorgeous - lhs

"you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you / and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room" - gorgeous by taylor swift

series masterlist - part one - part two - part three

prompt 45 of the 100 kisses list, "we shouldn't do this" but they do so anyway

pairing. best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader synopsis. Heeseung comes back from his first year of university a new man - forget nervous, fidgety, dorky Heeseung and say hello to confident, teasing, flirty Heeseung. This change of attitude doesn't help your longstanding crush on your best friend's brother, and neither does the rising tension between the two of you - a tension that is bound to explode. genre. f2l, did i mention this was a best friend's brother au?, only fluff in this part but more to come, perhaps suggestive due to tension between reader and hee and makeout session lol word count. 8.1k (yes an asahicore fic under 10k thank u very much) a/n. hi loves i'm super happy to be posting this bc its the very first fic out of the 100 kisses event and its a project im really excited about !!! i know i said like 2 days ago it'd take me a while to write this but i got super motivated over the weekend and it turned out shorter than i thought and bestie @k-ingzo zo did a super amazing job at beta reading this so i was able to post it really quickly !! anyways hope you enjoy this, pls lmk,, and hope u look forward to the rest of the series as well !! ok bye

Nine years ago

“Y/N, honey, come meet your new friends!”

You rushed down the stairs at your mom’s call - at eight, you were always excited by the idea of new friends. She’d also called Naeun down, but lately, your sister had been acting like doing anything your parents asked her would cost her her life.

There in your living room were four unfamiliar faces, but your parents were smiling warmly, so you weren’t too nervous. Instinctively, you found your mother’s side and she rested her hand on your head, bending down to talk to you.

“Y/N, these are the Lees, they’ve just moved to the neighborhood.”

“Hi,” you greeted shyly, and were met with four hi’s in return.

“Heeseung and Seeun here started going to the same school as you,” she informs, nodding her head towards the young boy and girl. Now that she said it, the boy looked really familiar. You thought you recognized him from school that day - his glasses were definitely memorable. “And Seeun is the exact same age as you!” Your face lit up at that, and her expression mirrored yours as her lips curled into a smile. “Why don’t you show her your room?”

“Sure! Come on,” you said, holding out your hand for Seeun to take. She looked back at her parents who were nodding vigorously at her to follow you. You just played for half-an-hour, and Heeseung joined you quickly, saying he was bored with the adults downstairs. He didn’t talk much, instead found some of your toys to play with in his own corner. 

When the Lees left, you were thinking two things: one, you couldn’t wait to tell Chaeyeong about Seeun, and two, that boy with the big glasses was really, really cute.

-

Now

“Seeun, why the hell didn’t you tell us that your brother is a mega-hottie now?!”

This is what your friend Chaeyeong whisper-screams in lieu of a greeting as she barges in Seeun’s room, plopping down on her bed like it was her own. It might as well have been, considering how long the three of you had known each other.

“If you ever refer to my brother as a mega-hottie again, I’m terminating this friendship,” Seeun replies, not bothering to look up from the bead bracelet she was currently making.

“Oh please, just because you’re his sister doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed how attractive he’s gotten,” Chaeyeong insists, but it just makes Seeun scrunch her nose in disgust.

“Chaeyeong, please stop making it so obvious you’re an only child,” Seeun sighs. You let out a giggle at your friends’ conversation as you search for another color that could go well with the pink beads you’d chosen for your own bracelet. 

Stealthily, Chaeyeong leaves her spot on the bed and sneaks up to you. “Y/N!” she exclaims suddenly, wrapping her arms around your shoulders in a sneak-attack hug that makes you yelp. It makes you drop your half-finished bracelet, the beads falling all over the carpeted floor around you. You look up at Chaeyeong with a pout, but she just smiles at you and starts picking up the beads, gathering the tiny pink jewels in the palm of her hand.

“Y/N, you’re with me on this one, aren’t you?”

You ignore Seeun’s side-eye and give in to Chaeyeong’s encouraging expression. “I guess he does look very…” you pause to carefully consider your word choice. “Different,” you settle on.

“Different? That’s it? Y/N, you should really consider getting some glasses, seeing how you’re so blind to hot boys.” Cue a loud groan, Seeun’s courtesy. You just giggle again, slightly shaking your head at Chaeyeong’s antics. She rolled her eyes, disappointed that you didn’t back her up, but she drops the subject and switches to Seeun’s upcoming birthday party. Something great about being generally quiet? People don’t question it when you don’t partake much in a conversation. You listen and laugh as your friends bicker, but your mind is on something else.

Or rather, it’s on someone else.

Because Chaeyeong is absolutely right - Seeun’s brother has glowed up so much during his time away at university that you had a double-take when he opened the door for you earlier.

The sentence this is so unfair plays over and over in your head.

You’d heard of the freshman fifteen, of college first-years being so stressed over grades and having so little time that their diet consisted of instant ramen, quick cafeteria lunches, and an ungodly amount of coffee. And alcohol, on Friday nights, of course. After seeing how freshman year treated your older sister, you were dreading going to college, imagining it to be the complete opposite of what TV and movies had shown you.

So how the hell had Lee Heeseung gone from high school loser to campus hearthrob in the span of a mere nine months? (After some thinking, you realized that, well, if a woman can create a whole human being in nine months, maybe a regular guy can undergo great physical and mental change in that time, too.)

In September, when you’d last seen him, he wore the same glasses he had for all of high school - those slightly crooked ones that made his eyes look even bigger than they already were. He always had to push them back up his nose but he never bothered to get them fixed, even though all they needed was for the arms to be tightened. You remember his tic-like habit of readjusting his glasses, a habit so strong that he did it even when he wasn’t wearing them. Maybe they bothered him so much that he decided to get rid of them once and for all, you guess. 

Indeed, when he greeted you at his front door earlier (even after years of knowing Seeun and her family and no matter how much they reassure you that it’s okay, you’re unable to come in without knocking first, like Chaeyeong does), he wasn’t wearing his thick lenses you’d grown fond of. His eyes didn’t look unfocused like they usually would without glasses, so you assumed he’d switched to contact lenses - you knew it wasn’t Lasik surgery, because Seeun was always complaining that her parents wouldn’t pay for her or her brother to receive it. 

But it wasn’t just the glasses, of course not. There was an ease and confidence about him that he didn’t have before - no awkward giggles, no darting eyes, no weirdly positioned limbs. He held the door open for you and kept his eyes on you as you walked in, saying it was nice to see you again and asking if you were happy to be done with high school. You already weren’t expecting Heeseung to open the door in Seeun’s stead, so him actually looking at you while he spoke instead of mumbling a few words in your general direction and scratching the back of his neck rendered you completely flustered, cheeks heating up embarrassingly quickly.

His hair was different: it used to sit there atop Heeseung’s head, unsure what to do with itself, but now it was purposefully cut and slightly pushed back. When he turned his head, you saw something shiny dangling from his left ear.

Heeseung had a piercing. Shy, nervous, fidgety electronics club president Heeseung had a goddamn piercing, and it looked amazing. 

And then he laughed. He actually had the audacity to laugh, and then ruffle your hair. You could’ve died right then and there. “You’re still just as cute as before,” he mused, beaming down at you. Then he walked away towards the living room, saying Seeun was in her room upstairs. As if nothing happened. As if you weren’t on the verge of combusting, your saving grace being your friend’s voice calling out your name. You ran up the stairs, wanting to get as far away from Heeseung and his smile and his voice and his touch as possible. You busied yourself with the pearls and the small bracelet-making station Seeun had organized, trying not to think about the vein that ran down his forearm or about how his shoulders looked wider than before. And you’d managed to do that, until Chaeyeong brought him up.

It wasn’t unfair because he’d grown mysteriously hot - it was unfair because to you, Heeseung had always been the cutest boy around, but now other people had surely noticed too, Chaeyeong amongst them. Now, you were just one of the many girls that had a crush on Heeseung, even if yours dated back to the first time you’d met him when the Lees moved into the neighborhood. 

Their parents had been delighted that two girls of their daughter’s age - eight, to be precise - lived on their street. You were delighted that the cute boy you’d seen at school that day was her big brother, just one year older. Chaeyeong and you gladly welcomed Seeun into your friendship and you had each other’s back through the awkward phases of your early teenage years and the stressful times as high school seniors getting ready for college. You shared everything - clothes, jewelry, homework answers, gossip, tears, laughter. Secrets.

You liked to think there wasn’t a thing you didn’t know about them, but you couldn’t say the opposite was true - there was a secret you had to keep from them. A secret that grew bigger and bigger as time passed, but that you needed to keep locked in.

You had the biggest crush known to mankind on your best friend’s brother. It was either keep quiet or tell both of your friends; you trusted Chaeyeong, but you didn’t want her to carry that burden. You had no idea what Seeun’s reaction would be if you admitted you liked her brother, but you didn’t want to risk it. Every best friend’s brother (or brother’s best friend) romance you’d read had told you that the former was always against and deeply disgusted by the idea of their friend dating the latter. The last thing you wanted to do was make things weird, so you said nothing and suffered in silence, as one does. And so, for years, Heeseung was your little secret.

But not anymore, apparently. And it felt unfair. You didn’t have much of a chance to begin with, but now, getting with Heeseung was inimaginable. You’d just have to continue pining from far away, just as you’d gotten used to.

-

Four years ago

Your heart pounded as you made your way to the bus stop, steps heavy and head full of thoughts. Even though your older sister told you there’s nothing to worry about, you couldn’t help it. You were used to walking to school, not taking the bus. After three years of seeing the same people roaming the hallways, it was nerve-wracking to arrive at a place where most faces would be completely unfamiliar. You didn’t know what your teachers would be like, you were scared your classes would be a hundred times harder than before, you heard the cafeteria food was really bad. In short, you were absolutely dreading high school. And today was your first day.

The only thing that calmed you down was knowing that in a few minutes, you’d be with Seeun and Chaeyeong, and just seeing them would make you feel instantly better. You were meeting at the bus stop.

But when you reached it, neither of your friends were there. You shouldn’t have been surprised, since you’d come ten minutes early, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. That is, until you recognized someone else.

“Heeseung?” you called out before you could stop yourself. The boy snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. Simple things like that made your heart burst with adoration for him.

“Oh, h-hi, Y/N.” He smiled the shy smile you loved so much and looked back at his feet, holding on tightly to the straps of his backpack. You stood next to him, close enough to have a conversation if he wanted to but not so close that it’d be weird.

Heeseung was the only person you felt awkward around. Even though you were on the quieter side and strangers weren’t your favorite people per se, being around people you didn’t know well wasn’t your definition of torture like it seemed to be for Heeseung and other kids from your school. But Heeseung’s awkwardness was contagious, and your crush on him didn’t help your ease of mind - so you imitated his posture, swaying back and forth on your feet as you held onto your backpack straps just to have something to hold onto. You smiled at the ground, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by looking at him, but that meant you missed the growing blush on his cheeks.

“So,” he started, “nervous?” He glanced quickly, just once, at you. You were so surprised at his breaking the silence, used to a quiet Heeseung, that you forgot to answer, simply staring at him. His panicked expression and mumblings were what jolted you out of your daze. “I-I mean, you know, cause it’s your first day and everything, and I was really nervous last year- I am today, too, actually- so I thought maybe, you know, you’re nervous too, but maybe you’re not, I don’t-”

He said all of this so quickly, you started laughing, slightly bending over. He let out a chuckle too, but as you continued laughing, a pout started to form on his lips. “What’s so funny…” you heard him grumble as he kicked a non-existent pebble.

“Sorry,” you said, regaining your breath. “I’m sorry, Heeseung.” The sound of his name made him glance at you again. You wished you could kiss the pout off his lips. “I was nervous, actually. But I feel better now.”

A quick smile appeared on his lips, but he willed it away. “I’m glad my embarrassment made you feel better,” he sighed.

You gently kicked his shoe with yours to make him look at you. “No, it’s because you made me laugh. I needed it. Thanks,” you corrected with a smile. Heeseung may have made you feel awkward, but the easiness with which he always got flustered made you love to tease him slightly.

His smile widened as he looked away once more, the blush having spread to his whole face by then. “Whatever,” he murmured. There was no time to say anything else because Seeun called out your name, practically skipping towards you. 

She gave you an excited hug as a greeting before turning towards her brother with a glare, punching him hard on the bicep, making him wince in pain and reach his hand to cover his arm where she hit him. “Thanks for waiting for me, loser.”

“You were gonna make us late!” he whined, rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, ‘cause I obviously missed the bus,” she tutted.

You watched the siblings with an amused smile, used to the exact same kind of banter at home. Your sister, who was in her last year of high school, had decided not to drive you for some reason only an older sister could make up and pretend was reasonable. Your parents had tried to convince her, but you didn’t mind taking the bus with your friends, so they didn’t push it, just glad they could somehow keep the both of you happy.

Heeseung didn’t say anything in return. Your eyes met for a moment, and his frown relaxed into a smile when he caught your expression. It lasted a second but it was enough to make your stomach twist. Seeun, oblivious, grabbed your arm and started telling you about all the things she was excited about for today. You were worried Chaeyeong wasn’t going to make it, but her footsteps were loud as she ran, reaching you just as the bus stopped in front of you. Heeseung took what you soon found out was his usual spot at the front of the bus while your friends dragged you towards the back of it. You tried not to let your thoughts drift towards the boy with the messy black hair and crooked glasses, but his shy smile replayed in your mind all day. For a year, you’d gotten used to not going to the same school as him - you didn’t know how you’d survive seeing him at least five days a week once again.

-

Now

You were really determined to not let Heeseung’s newfound confidence sway you, physically shaking your head every time a thought of him popped in your head (useless) and racking your brain for reasons you shouldn’t like him (not many of those). There was just one teeny, tiny problem.

He was making it impossible to pine for him at a distance. 

It seemed like everywhere you went, he was there. Maybe that was due to the fact that your most frequently visited place was literally his house, but still. It was frustrating. You didn’t need to be met with his stupid smile whenever he opened the door for you, you didn’t need to catch him cutely napping - how was that even possible?! - in the living room, a random sitcom still playing on the TV, you didn’t need to hear his laughter when his friends were over, and you definitely did not need to see him half-naked as he came out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower and sticking to his forehead, towel wrapped low around his hips and his abs fully on display. Because of course, you had to be in the hallway, heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water, at the exact same time as him. 

You almost start to resent the fact that Seeun had the comfiest bedroom out of the three of you, as well as the most snack-filled house, which was why you had decided years ago to hang out there the most. Especially during school breaks, you were there almost every day, so you were bound to see Heeseung a lot. But for some reason, that didn’t seem to be enough, and over the course of June, you also ran into him while shoe-shopping with your mom, then another time as you entered the public library just when he left it, and another when your friends and his had decided to get ice cream at the same time. It was like you couldn’t escape him.

The worst part? Every time he saw you, while you simultaneously wanted to run away from him and into his arms, his damnedly handsome face broke into a stupidly beautiful smile that looked far too genuine for your heart. “Y/N! Funny seeing you here!”

No, Heeseung, not funny.

You didn’t want to be that girl whose brain cells stopped working whenever she encountered an attractive male specimen, but that was apparently who you were meant to be, because all words left you when you saw Heeseung. Although you’d been somewhat flustered around him in the past, he was always much more so than you, which reassured you and gave you enough confidence to actually talk to him. But now that he had realized how handsome he was and was clearly using that newfound knowledge against you (or so you thought), you were unable to string a coherent sentence when his shiny eyes bore into yours.

You think he might’ve sensed your awkwardness, because he never lingered, never made useless small talk, just asked about your favorite ice cream flavor or the book he’d checked out, patted your head, then was on his way.

There were so many butterflies in your stomach, you were scared it might fly away.

One afternoon in the middle of July, you and your friends come back from the city pool completely exhausted after playing around for hours in the water. All bundled up and close together, you try to nap on Seeun’s bed. Keyword try, because even though your friends’ soft snores quickly start to fill the silence of the room, you can’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how heavy your eyes feel.

Quietly, you get out of bed and head downstairs to the kitchen, hoping a cold glass of water will help sleep come to you like it usually does. You shouldn’t be surprised to see Heeseung in the dining room/kitchen area, busy with a puzzle, the pieces of which he’s spread out all over the table, but your heart still does a flip. He must be really engrossed in it, because he doesn’t notice your presence in the room until you fill a glass with ice, the sudden sound making his head snap up at you. You hate that his face breaks into a grin as soon as he sees you.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! What are you doing?”

“Just getting some water,” you explain, raising your glass with a small smile. Your whole body tells you to run away, back to Seeun’s bedroom, but something in your gut tells you to stay, to get closer to Heeseung. So you do. “What about you?” you ask, slowly making your way towards the table and peering at the puzzle in progress.

“Just whipping up some brownies,” he retorts with a devilish smirk, big eyes looking up at you. 

You fight back a smile in vain. “Shut up,” you mumble, but take a seat next to him anyway. He seems slightly taken aback by the sudden proximity, and you are too, but you keep your gaze focused on the puzzle in front of you so that you can’t think too much about how close you’re sitting, and how your knees could touch if you angled them just so.

For a small while you sit in silence, watching as he puts pieces together and even finding a couple of your own. It’s a one-thousand piece jigsaw that he’s clearly only just started, but Heeseung doesn’t seem fazed by that. You like seeing how his eyebrows slightly furrow when he’s searching for a particular piece, and the pleased smirk that graces his lips when he finds it. You break the silence after a few minutes.

“So you still like puzzles, then?” you ask, voice low. You’ve always been told you speak quietly - even too quietly sometimes, but you can’t always help it. Especially in situations like this, when it’s silent around you anyways, you don’t see the point of raising your voice. When Heeseung replies, he speaks at the same volume as you, and there’s something comforting about it, about speaking quietly in such a spacious and sunlit room - the words you share are for you two, and you two only.

“Yep, ever since that day.” He glances quickly at you and smiles at the piece in his hand, and it’s like getting a glimpse of the Heeseung you had known all those years. Your heart warms at the sight.

“That day?”

This makes him look properly at you, his eyes darting back and forth between yours as if searching for something there. Your heart is now on fire. “Don’t you remember?”

You tilt your head in response and he turns his attention back to the puzzle. “It was at this table, too. I think your grandparents- your grandma, I think? Anyway, someone had gotten you a puzzle for your birthday.”

You ‘ah’ in realization. “Of course!”

Two years ago

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this, it’s so complicated,” Seeun pouted apologetically, looking at you sadly. “We’ve been here like an hour and we’ve barely gotten anywhere.” 

Chaeyeong, head on the table, groaned in agreement. You followed your friend’s gaze to the puzzle in front of you - she was right, you hadn’t made much progress. But you liked it. The picture was pretty and you’d like to see it completed, but more than that, you liked finding the right piece, figuring out strategies.

You hummed, mirroring Seeun’s pout. Chaeyeong snapped her head back up to look at you. You’d think she hadn’t slept in days, but that was just bored Chaeyeong. You loved your friend and her over-dramatic antics. “Can we just take a break?” she asked, tone like you’d kidnapped and forced her to do this.

“You guys go ahead.” You smiled. “I like it, I can just continue this for a while and you guys do whatever you want.” The three of you spent so much time together that you didn’t need to be doing an activity together to be happy - being in each other’s general vicinity was enough to be considered a hang-out.

“You sure?” Seeun asked.

“Yeah, ‘course.” You chuckled at the obvious relief on your friend’s faces. “Just don’t watch the next Extraordinary You episode without me, okay?”

They both gasped and clutched their hearts like you’d accused them of murder. “How could you even think that, Y/N?!” Chaeyeong exclaimed.

“We would never!” Seeun added.

You shook your head at your friends’ antics, laughing as you waved them off. “Just go, already.”

“Yes, ma’am!” And with that, they were off, running up the stairs to Seeun’s bedroom.

You were only on your own for around ten minutes - the front door opened and closed, and the quiet shuffle of shoes being taken off and replaced with slippers let you know Heeseung had just come home. Seeun always made a show of being exhausted after school, groaning as she threw her backpack to the ground, while Mr and Mrs Lee always announced their arrival with a sometimes cheery, sometimes tired ‘I’m home!’. But Heeseung, quiet as always, simply set his backpack next to the stairs, slipped into his slippers and made his way to the kitchen, fond of a quick snack after school. Even Chaeyeong made herself more known when she entered the Lee household.

Every day except for Fridays, he came home two hours later than his sister because of either magic or electronics club (yes, magic club. It was cute, okay?!). You always looked forward to the monthly meeting of the book club you were in, partly because it meant you could take the bus back with Heeseung afterwards. Even if the ride was usually mainly silent, just sitting next to him was enough for your heart to do all sorts of tricks worthy of an Olympic gymnast. 

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” he greeted softly, probably surprised at seeing you alone at the dinner table.

“Hi, Heeseung. How was the electronics club?” You wanted to make conversation, but you winced immediately at your words - was it normal for you to know what club he had on what days?

But Heeseung seemed to pay it no mind, just smiling shyly, a blush already creeping on his cheeks. “It was nice, thanks.” He opened the fridge, taking out a carton of milk. “Do you want a glass?” When you didn’t respond immediately, he was quick to add, “Of milk? O-or orange juice? Or I can make some tea, if you want-”

His hands were already busy with preparing whatever drink he thought you might want. You held back a chuckle and smiled as you answered, “Milk is fine, thanks.”

His blush spread all the way down his neck and you turned your attention back to the puzzle so he wouldn’t see your grin. “Right, milk. Milk,” he stammered, then got two glasses out of the cupboard.

You loved moments like these with Heeseung - flustered, light-hearted, slightly awkward, moments that made you want to giggle out of nerves and delight. Basically every moment with him was like this, so it’d be more accurate to say you loved every moment with him.

“I didn’t know you liked puzzles,” he said, an upward tilt to his voice, as he set your glass next to you and took a seat across from you. He peered down at the pieces spread out in front of you, fixed his glasses on his nose, and took a big gulp of milk.

“I didn’t either,” you said with a chuckle, and stammered out an explanation when he looked up at you questioningly. “My, um, my grandma gave this to me for my birthday last month. She’s got a lot of grandkids, you know, and I think she might’ve mixed up my other cousin who likes puzzles and me…” Heeseung nods slowly, the corners of his lips tugging up in amusement. “But I don’t mind it,” you add, “I’m having fun, actually. Seeun and Chaeyeong are of a different mind, though. It’s a bit hard doing it on my own but I like it anyway.”

“I can help you,” he suddenly blurted out, and he looked just as surprised at his words as you were. “If you want.”

You smiled at him, and Heeseung and you actually looked at each other, actually held eye contact for three seconds, until you felt your face burn and had to look away. “Sure, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Although it took some time to finish the puzzle - putting 500 pieces together was a lot trickier than you thought it’d be - Heeseung and you managed to do it, high fiving celebratorily after almost two hours of hard work.

Now

“I just had a lot of fun that day.” Heeseung shrugs. “Plus, I already liked things like Legos and Rubik’s cubes, so it made sense I’d like puzzles, too.” 

You nod in response, watching as he twirls a puzzle piece between his thumb and middle finger. “It’s funny that my grandma’s mistake is what made you discover your love for puzzles.”

Heeseung chuckles along with you, and you’re relieved the atmosphere is somewhat lighter than before until he looks straight into your eyes, locking your gaze in his own, and a breath gets trapped in your throat. “I’m glad she did that, otherwise we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded, mouth agape, when he looks away with a smirk and turns his attention back to the puzzle, analyzing it seriously as if nothing happened. You come back to your senses after a few seconds, clearing your throat before imitating Heeseung and trying to focus on the puzzle once again. But that’s hard to do when your hands brush ever-so-slightly every time you fumble around the pile for a particular piece, or every time he hits your knee with his, inadvertently or to tease you, you’re not sure.

The first thing to do when starting a puzzle is looking for all the side pieces to build the frame. When Heeseung spots one in the pile next to you, he leans in to grab it, and he’s suddenly close enough for you to get a whiff of his cologne that had faded over the day. You think he’ll just take the piece and sit back in his seat, but instead, he turns his head towards you, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. Close enough that it wouldn’t be hard to close the gap and have your lips on his - just as the thought hits you, his eyes drift down to your parted lips. Is he thinking the same thing?

You take a sharp breath in, eyes fixed on Heeseung, mind racing with thoughts and assumptions of what might be going through his head right now. But your brain goes haywire when a smirk blooms on his lips, clearly enjoying your reaction. His gaze finds your eyes once more and he raises the piece between the two of you, in the small space that separates you. “Got it,” he says quietly, voice lower than usual. It makes your insides melt. He could be very well talking about you - he’s got you absolutely wrapped around his finger, and he seems to know it.

He turns back to the puzzle, smirk still on his lips, and you’re so embarrassed and confused that your flight instinct kicks in. The screech of your chair as you push it back and stand up makes Heeseung look up at you again, his smirk having dissolved in surprise and - disappointment?

No time to ponder, you need to get. out. of. here. 

“Right, well, that was fun, haha,” you breathe out, actually saying the word ‘haha’ and wanting to run away even more thereafter. “I should probably head back to the girls, now.” You’re already backing up and walking away when Heeseung calls out your name, but you just turn around and rush back upstairs, yelling out a small “bye, Heeseung!” on your way.

You’re already back in Seeun’s bedroom when Heeseung shakes his head at your sudden disappearance, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Cute,” he says under his breath.

-

To minimize any chances of running into Heeseung, over the next two weeks, you ask Chaeyeong and Seeun if you could hang out at your house more often, using the excuse that you want to spend as much time as possible there before leaving off to college. They don’t question it too much - next year, they’ll be able to come back fairly regularly to their parent’s houses, since the college they’re going to is less than an hour-long car ride away, but you’ll be further away, too far to come back home often.

It just so happens to be the university Heeseung is studying at, but you don’t need to worry about that right now. They had one of the best English Lit programs in your area and you’d been wanting to go there for all of your high school years - you used to think of Heeseung’s going there as a pro, but right now, it felt more like a con.

You manage to only run into him twice over the course of those two weeks, and both times, just in passing. But now it’s the night of Seeun’s birthday party and it’s impossible to pretend he isn’t there even when you’re in a crowded room together. Heeseung and Seeun’s parents have lended their house for their kids to have a party there, using it as an opportunity to have a date night, and Heeseung and his friends have graciously provided a big portion of the alcohol, saying it was their birthday gift.

You aren’t the biggest fan of alcohol, so you opt for the fruitier, lighter drinks, but still, two hours after the party starts, you can already feel your head start to spin, your voice is louder, everything makes you laugh. When a friend from school tells you they’re playing seven minutes in heaven in the hallway upstairs, you think that's the funniest thing you’ve ever heard and immediately agree to join.

The sight of Heeseung sitting in the circle, already looking at you with a lopsided smile, almost sobers you up completely.

You’d tried to avoid him as best as you could, but it was like you couldn’t escape him - maybe that was due to the fact that the heart of the party was kept to the kitchen and the living room, just a few people sitting on the stairs at the entrance to get away from the noise, but still, it annoyed you to no end that you had to keep seeing him everywhere. Maybe that was also what made the alcohol easier to down.

At some point, you were in the kitchen, doing a shot of God-knows-what with girls from school. You heard his voice before you saw him, and it made you roll your eyes but also your heart skip a beat. “Didn’t know you were such a drinker, Y/N.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and when his face came into view, you wanted to slap it away. Or kiss it away, maybe.

“I’m not, I’m just trying to have fun,” you retorted, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you poured yourself another shot. I Gotta Feeling by Black Eyed Peas started playing in the next room and the girls shrieked before rushing to the made-up dancefloor. You wanted to join them, but something kept your feet firmly planted at the kitchen counter.

Before you could bring the shot glass to your lips, however, Heeseung stole it from you and downed it himself. “Hey!” you protested, but it was done, and he was scrunching his nose at the bitter taste, shaking his head. You wished he could stop being attractive for one damn second.

“You don’t need that to have fun.”

He placed his forearms on the kitchen counter and leaned on them, forcing him to look up at you. You had no idea what the hell he meant by that, nor did you want to try and figure it out - all you knew was that you couldn’t stay there with him when he looked at you so intently, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, hair perfectly disheveled and biceps apparent even under his t-shirt sleeves.

“You’re right, I don’t,” you made yourself say, and spun on your heels to join your friends on the dancefloor. 

And a few drinks later, here you are, sitting in a circle on the hallway floor, Heeseung right in front of you, leaning back on his palms and looking down at you with that same stupid smirk once again.

The game goes as such: one person spins the bottle twice, and the people it lands on have to go to a bedroom closet for seven minutes (timed carefully by Jake, Heeseung’s friend who is taking this game very seriously) to do whatever they want, while the others occupy themselves with other games. When the seven minutes are up, the doors burst open, and you have to leave the closet. 

And because it wouldn’t be any fun otherwise, after a few rounds, the bottle points straight at you, then straight at Heeseung, and before you know it, everyone except for Seeun is cheering, and Heeseung is holding out his hand for you to take, and you do, and he raises you up, and together, you head to his closet, as per the rules of this stupid middle-school game you should never have agreed to play in the first place. You can barely Seeun’s voice as she shouts, “Y/N, I trust you!”, which just makes Chaeyeong burst into laughter and whoop louder for you. You’d also barely registered Heeseung’s friends clapping each other’s backs, smiling like they were in on something.

The sound of the closet door shutting is what snaps you out of your daze. You hadn’t even realized Heeseung had kept your hand in his until he released it, leaning his back against one wall of the closet, facing you. All three bedrooms in the Lees’ house had built-in walk-in closets which meant you weren’t sandwiched between Heeseung and his clothes, but still, you wished you could put more distance between your two bodies - one step closer, and you were done for.

It wasn’t just Heeseung’s presence in the narrow space - it was his scent filling your nostrils, the combined smell of the cologne he was wearing, of the fabric softener on his clothes, and an unfamiliar scent you somehow recognized as unique to Heeseung, his skin, his hair, smells you’d wanted to discover for years but never got close enough to. Well, now you did. And it was intoxicating - you wanted more, wanted to bury your face in the crook of his neck and inhale. You wanted to know what his reaction would be, if he’d let you, if he’d push you away.

All those thoughts were running wild in your head. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your stomach was in messy knots, your hands were sweaty and you had no idea where to place them, your eyes wouldn’t stop darting around the dark room. Everywhere but Heeseung. You could feel his eyes on you, but you were too nervous to meet them.

Your breathing must’ve gotten loud enough for him to hear, because all of a sudden, you feel his hand take yours, and he’s stood up from his position against the wall, his body too close to yours for your heart to handle. His thumb rubs what he must think are comforting semi-circles on the back of your hand, but the touch just destroys any capability of thinking straight you had left.

“Y/N,” he calls out, and the sound of his voice makes your eyes close shut. You cannot give in. You had seen Seeun’s disgusted expression when you and Heeseung were picked for the game - if just the idea of you and her brother kissing repulses her, what would she say if she knew it actually happened, or if you started dating? You may have the biggest crush ever on Heeseung, but no one was worth losing your friendship with Seeun.

“Calm down,” he says, and you wish you could be as steady as his voice. “There’s no reason to be nervous.”

This makes you scoff. “You touching me is not helping my nervousness.” The words are out before you can stop them, and in the darkness of the room, you have to concentrate to make out the tilt of Heeseung’s head. You don’t need to see it to know he’s smiling, the satisfied smirk that has been gracing his features for the past month and a half.

“Yeah? Why is that?”

You take your hand out of Heeseung’s and cross your arms over your chest. “You know why,” you say, not intending your voice to come out as weak as it does.

Heeseung takes another step closer to you, and the only ray of light that comes through the panels of the closet door hits his face, making it visible for you to see. “I do, but I want you to tell me.” Another step, making you back up until you hit the wall behind you.

You call out his name shakily. His lips are right in front of you at this point, and you can’t not look at them.

He places a hand delicately on your waist, as if not wanting to scare you off. “Yeah?” He’s so close now that you can feel his breath fanning on your lips.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you say, and finally, your voice is strong like you want it to - but Heeseung isn’t deterred by it.

“Do what?” he asks, pretending to be stupid. “We haven’t done anything. Not yet.” He adds the last part in a whisper, his eyes drifting down to your lips, and you can feel your resolve crumbling piece by piece, the opposite of completing a puzzle.

“You know what I’m talking about,” you whisper back, voice almost pleading with him. Stop this before it’s too late, you want to tell him, but for some reason, at this point, you’re more scared of nothing happening than something happening.

“I do, but I want you to tell me,” he repeats, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Laughing helps relieve the tension, but it’s back as quickly as it left when his hold on your waist gets tighter, bringing you closer to him. Your hands that had fallen to your side come up to grab the sides of his t-shirt, gathering the fabric in your fists. There’s no going back now, you can tell - you wait for Heeseung to make a move, both dreading it and craving the relief that will come with it.

Heeseung’s free hand comes up to your face, and he traces your jawline with a knuckle before taking your chin in two of his fingers, gently raising it so that your face is angled up towards him. His touch makes your skin burn and takes away your ability to breathe properly.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you repeat, voice barely audible, a weak and half-hearted attempt at stopping this now that you still can.

“No, we shouldn’t,” he agrees, and before you can say or do anything else, Heeseung presses his lips to yours, finally, finally.

His lips are just as soft as you’d expected them to be, and the kiss is light, slow, careful. You’re grateful for it, because you’re not a very experienced kisser - if Heeseung had plunged his tongue directly into your mouth, you wouldn’t have known what to do. It’s almost like he knows this, like he’s giving you time to figure it out, to get used to it. His hand snakes its way to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him, while the other cups your cheek with his palm. You, on the other hand, have completely forgotten about your hands, only able to focus on where your lips meet.

It’s easy to fall into Heeseung’s rhythm, to let him take control of the kiss. But maybe it’s too easy, because soon enough, you start to want more - as amazing as this is right now, a slow kiss like this is not enough to have dissolved the tension in your body. You remember your hands and inch them up to his hair, your fingers finding purchase there and slightly pulling as you open your mouth just a bit wider, hoping Heeseung will get the message.

For a second, you think you’ve got it all wrong - Heeseung pulls back an inch, peering down at you. You’re both breathing heavily, and you’re scared you might have gone too far. But then, he murmurs a small fuck under his breath, and just like that, his lips are back on yours, your back is pressed against the wall again, his body encaging your smaller one. The kiss now is nothing like it was seconds ago - it’s turned hungry, hot, messy. You love it.

You had no idea you would want to kiss Heeseung like this, but now that you were doing it, you couldn’t get enough. The intensity with which he held you, the feel of his tongue against yours, the small groans that escaped his lips every time you pulled on his hair, it was all making you more drunk than the alcohol had.

You swear you haven’t even been kissing for two minutes, but then, all of a sudden, the doors are snapped open, and light pours in the closet, and Heeseung’s lips aren’t on yours anymore. You hadn’t heard the timer go off, too engrossed in Heeseung to pay anything else any mind. When you turn your head, Chaeyeong and Jake are staring at you and Heeseung, mouths wide open and eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

“Oh. My. God,” Chaeyeong says, while Jake starts laughing. A shy smile appears on Heeseung’s lips, even plumper and pinker than usual from your kiss. His hair is a mess, and you’re sure you don’t look too different. He scratches the back of his neck, and you can’t believe this sheepish boy is the same that was kissing you roughly not a minute ago.

“Chaeyeong,” you cry out, voice already pleading as you take a step out of the closet and take both of her hands in yours. “Seeun can’t know about this.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise but nods her head in agreement, and you’ve never been so thankful for your friend as now. 

“Would she really mind?” Jake asks, looking at you, then at his friend. You turn to look at Heeseung behind you, who purses his lips.

“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling she would… She’s always told me she didn't want me hanging out with her friends,” Heeseung says, and you and Chaeyeong exchange a look; this was news to both of you.

You have no further time to discuss it, however, because Seeun’s voice calling out your name and Heeseung’s make all four of you widen your eyes. Chaeyeong fixes your clothes and hair as best as she can, then smiles at you reassuringly and nods, prompting you to imitate her. She ushers Heeseung into his bathroom and tells him to “freshen up or whatever,” and you, Jake and Chaeyeong leave the room just as Seeun reaches the door.

“Where’s Heeseung?” she asks, not a trace of suspicion in her voice, peering behind you into her brother’s dark room.

“Just needed the toilet,” Jake answers quickly, and that seems to convince her. 

She turns to you, an amused expression on her face. “Hope that wasn’t too awkward.”

You’re so surprised at your friend’s quickness to assume that nothing could happen between you and her brother, as if the idea was truly unfathomable to her, but you figure it’s for the best. You all head back into the party, Heeseung appearing some five minutes later. He scans the room for you, and when you make eye contact from across the crowded living room, he smiles, his shy, genuine smile that you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. 

You already miss him, you realize, his lips, his touch, his scent. That’s how you know that you’re in deep, deep shit.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl (ask to be removed/added!)

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[animementrash]

AOT veterans headcanons

Characters: Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe

Tags: just random thoughts on the main three vets, they/them pronouns for Hange, some may be ooc?, SFW only

A/N: Here are my headcanons based on how I percieve them, I have some more for the rest of the characters but I'm posting only three for now because they are longer than expected. (I also have NSFW ones but I'm waiting until I get more comfortable with sharing my thoughts before posting those) Hope you like them and thank you for reading!

Levi Ackerman:

Washes his hands constantly, almost too many times a day.

Would rather fight a titan with an arm tied to his back than do the dishes. The mere thought of soggy leftovers sticking to his hands makes him gag.

Avoids going out to public places because he’s aware of his popularity inside the walls and doesn’t know how to act when he’s the center of attention.

Following the previous topic and contrary to popular beliefs, this man would never reject a gift/letter/trinket given to him by a local. It can be the most random thing but he will always accept them with a small nod, he’s deeply thankful for their blind trust in him.

Yawns and stretches ALL THE TIME, he is known for sleeping as little as 3 or 4 hours per night and while he’s able to go on with his day without problems, this doesn’t mean he isn’t feeling drowsy all the time so he’s almost always letting out quiet yawns and stretching his arms to ease the soreness of his body.

Sneezes a lot when cleaning. It’s not rare at all to hear him sneeze when he’s dusting or sweeping, if someone says “Bless you” to him he’ll quietly mumble a “thanks” before getting back to cleaning.

Has a favorite seat at the dining table and gets grumpy when someone takes that place before him.

Speaking of dinner, this man eats SLOW AS HELL, he’s usually one of the last to finish his meal.

Is constantly thirsty because he refuses to drink anything but tea.

Has memorized everyone’s footsteps and knows who’s coming to his office before they even knock the door.

Cleans and calibrates his ODM gear daily even when he’s not planning on using it.

Doesn’t like to be in new recruit’s trainings because he gets anxious when most of them hurt themselves while getting used to work with the ODM gear.

Trims his hair weekly, most people believe he shapes his haircut and has hairdresser-like skills when in reality all he does is trim it to avoid losing the shape it already has.

Can’t read cursive even if his life depends on it. One time Erwin handed him a memo written in cursive and he got so frustrated because he didn’t understand what it said that he ended up ignoring the memo. Turns out Erwin needed him to turn in some reports earlier than usual and got scolded because of it.

Loves eating fruit. Fruit was considered an ultra luxury item in the underground so when he realized how much fruit he could eat once he was in the scouts, he got obsessed with it.

Whines and complains a lot for a person who’s known to be grumpy and stoic. Ask him to do something he dislikes and you’ll hear a bunch of huffs and puffs before he goes to do it.

Talks with his horse. A lot.

Wanders through the empty halls when he can’t sleep and doesn’t bother to bring a candle to light the path, the cadets now believe there is a ghost haunting the headquarters.

Erwin Smith:

Hums and whistles a lot, he’s always making some kind of noise while signing reports or walking down the halls. You can hear this man before seeing him.

Takes more time than he’s willing to admit in styling his hair every morning. He is a firm believer that appearance matters a lot so he puts a lot of effort on his.

 Has a specific pair of glasses he uses when reading, almost no one knows about it besides Hange who helped him choose the right ones.

Talks in his sleep, it can vary between mumbled nonsense to full on speeches.

Has a journal that is more like a diary because he writes all his thoughts/hopes/fears on it but he’d be damned if someone refers to it as a diary and not a journal.

Is lowkey afraid of insects but plays it cool when he comes across one because he doesn’t want to come out as “weak”.

Snaps his fingers when trying to remember something.

People think he’s a very wise and smart man because it’s very common to find him “deep in thoughts”, truth is he just tends to zone out and disassociates like crazy.

Loves dogs, he’s the biggest dog person in the scouts. Often stops and pets dogs he finds while taking a walk downtown.

Cleans and polishes his shoes every night before going to sleep. Whenever his face gets reflected on the shiny shoe a smile appears on his lips.

Not always but sometimes sneaks out behind the barracks to smoke some cigarettes, tries to hide all evidence afterwards because Levi will start complaining about the awful smell.

Would rather be late to an early meeting than go without shaving, has to shave daily because by the end of the day he already has a shadow beard.

Is well aware of his attractiveness and uses it to his advantage when needed.

Visits his father’s grave every Sunday and spends most of the day there. Sometimes brings a book and reads it out loud.

Smacked his face after trying to see through a clear glass Levi had cleaned earlier, after laughing for several minutes Levi scolded him for dirtying his glass.

His wardrobe is full of neutral-colored clothes, he sucks at matching outfits so goes with the safest options.

Knows very well Levi can’t read cursive so when he’s bored, he scribbles gibberish on a paper and gives it to Levi saying it’s important to get it done by end of day just to get a laugh.

Has relatives living inside the walls who refuse to acknowledge him, some of them even pretend he died the same day his dad did.

Has an ongoing bet with Hange to see who makes Levi laugh the most, so far Erwin is winning by one but only because he accidentally fell from his horse and Levi found it hilarious.

Arm-wrestles with Miche a lot, especially after they had a few beers.

LOVES dancing, this man knows how to dance and isn’t afraid to show it. (Sadly for him he also loves to clap when dancing and this makes everyone laugh)

Hange Zoe:

Is both street-smart and book-smart, is the only person who has beaten Erwin in a chess match and also beaten Levi in a wrestling match.

Almost always has pencils sticking out of their hair, they place them there for a moment and totally forget about them.

Levi restricted them from using fountain pens because they would spill ink and stain everything and everywhere.

The reason why their glasses have straps on is not only because the risk of them falling off is smaller but also because according to them “it makes them look cooler”.

Wanted to join Erwin in giving instructions to Levi written in cursive but since their handwriting wasn’t as good as Erwin’s they opted for giving instructions in riddles, this makes Levi even more furious than the cursive ones.

Just like Levi, Hange takes a long time when eating dinner but the reason for this is not because they eat slow but because they talk a lot. By the end of the meal their food is either cold or soggy.

Tried to bite a titan once just to show them how it felt to be “on the receiving side”.

Their horse has tiny braids on its mane made by them when they were nervous.

Refuses to brush their hair because their ideas may “fall off” if they do it.

Tackled Levi once when they saw an “eerie figure” roaming the headquarters halls and thought it was a new species.

Has read more books than anyone in the scouts, knows a little of almost everything.

Says “wait, what?” at least twice when talking with someone, before that person can repeat themselves, they interrupt with a completely related answer and expect the person to continue speaking as if nothing happened.

Almost all cadets go to them for advice, they take this very seriously and never joke around when listening to their concerns.

Just like Erwin, they have relatives living nearby the headquarters but they’re not interested in one another.

Has a tendency to bite their nails when nervous, all his fingernails are short and bumpy because of it.

Is very quick at math and calculations.

Always carry a pocket notebook with them and writes anything that catches their attention so they can investigate about it later.

LOVES bugs, is always trying to catch them and examinate them. One time they trapped a cockroach and created a full design of an “armored suit” based on them, when Erwin asked where they got the inspiration for it, they just placed the cockroach in Erwin’s desk and Erwin almost fainted on the spot.

Randomly goes to Miche and asks him “what do I smell like?”, Miche stopped participating on their little riddles when Hange decided to put rotting food in their pockets before asking.

All their books have little notes and highlighted parts on them. Sometimes has two or three copies of the same book because their view on certain parts changes over time.

Takes pinky-promises as a legit way of commitment.

[steviewashere]

Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.

Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3

🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.

It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.

The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:

-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain

He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.

Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.

Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.

“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”

Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.

Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.

So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.

Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.

Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.

Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.

He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.

But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.

———

It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.

They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.

He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.

“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.

With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.

And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.

“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“

“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”

Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.

I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 

Don’t touch him without asking.

“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.

Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.

“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.

A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—

“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.

Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”

His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.

“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.

Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“

Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”

The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.

Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.

“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”

Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.

Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.

“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”

Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.

“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”

Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.

Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.

Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.

“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.

“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.

Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.

“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.

The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.

“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”

Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.

He feels sick to his stomach.

The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.

“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.

Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”

With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”

“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”

Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.

A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.

Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”

“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."

——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.

It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.

Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.

Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.

But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.

The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.

Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.

“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.

He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”

He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. “I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.

He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”

Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”

Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”

With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”

“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.

Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”

The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.

He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”

Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.

🩵—————🩵

[heesdreamer]

SILENCED (1)

MASTERLIST

GENRE ➩ enhypen zombie apocalypse au!

SUMMARY ➩ navigating life 1 year post end of the world was already difficult as you avoided rotting corpses with hefty appetites and groups with various bad intentions. things get harder when you run into a group of survivors, 7 boys who make it impossible to run away.

WC ➩ 10.7k

WARNINGS ➩ all things that zombies bring like gore and death lol, sexual content, main character death etc

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ this was originally a one shot story but under request from people that read my stories before i post it’s going to be a multiple part series! hope you enjoy the first installment as it builds up the world and characters plz let me know your thoughts and guesses (NOT PROOFREAD)

Whenever you pictured the apocalypse, the end of the world that people often talked about over drunken hypotheticals or PG-13 level horror, you pictured it loud.

Thunderous even, a deafening mixture of screams and cries behind the roar of fire and destruction.

You imagined utter chaos and it was never quiet in your head when you did so, a clear built scenario that you never paid too much mind to, considering the absolute fantasy of it all.

So now that you were almost a year deep into the official end of humanity, you were a bit thrown off by how different it was from your previous assumptions. Sure, there had been fire and screams and it definitely wasn’t lacking chaos, but most days you found yourself in complete ear ringing silence.

The soundtrack of your day to day life rarely extended past birds chirping, the crunch of leaves and loose sticks under your boots as you attempted your way through forest filled terrain.

It’d taken you a while to leave Seoul, first being held back by fear and panic and then not wanting to leave the comfort of your known surroundings.

It was easy to figure out how to survive there after a while, knowing when it was safe to leave your apartment and scavenge the nearby stores and when it was time to draw the blinds and let’s hoards pass by undetected.

You’d sit with bated breath as you listened to soft groans and bodies bumping against your front door as they mindlessly made their way down the hallway and eventually off to find something that had made a noise or distracted them.

When you imagined the apocalypse before you hadn’t really considered the different types that could occur. You suppose chemical outbreak or maybe even a world war could’ve been possible, far fetched but possible nonetheless. Maybe even multiple waves of natural disasters, wiping out cities and land masses in its wake.

Somehow, the dead rising hadn’t crossed your mind.

The creatures that had lingered outside your door all those months ago weren’t like anything you could’ve possibly dreamed up in your anxious mind, defying science and all rationality with their mere existence and hunger based drive.

It didn’t bother you as much now, having spent weeks frustrated over the mechanics of their mobility, the reasoning for their immortality.

Now you felt somewhat close to them, these days hunger being your main reason for existence and almost your entire train of thought from the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep. This was the same thing that had finally driven you from the city, the stores running dry eventually and leaving you no choice but to turn to nature for nutrients.

You thought about this comparison now as you came to a slow stop, lowering yourself down into a crouch as you listened to the branches snapping off in the distance.

The knife in your hand felt heavier than normal, eyes darting around the forest as you took in your surroundings and made a quick escape plan in case it was more than one undead, in case you needed to run and run fast. You didn’t want to leave just yet, having followed a deer into the woods a few hours ago and you were in desperate need of an actual meal.

Shifting your weight onto your heels, you listened to the sounds come closer and then stop when they reached a bush a few yards ahead of you.

Your head was cocking in confusion, grip tightening around the leather of your knifes handle as you waited for it to continue its approach. The bush rattled a few times, keeping your attention tightly locked on it as you held your breath.

“Put it down.” A low voice was sounding behind you and you froze, feeling the cold metal pressed against the back of your head before you even registered the fact that somebody was speaking.

It’d been weeks since you’d heard something so real, something so human other than your own voice and you felt a sudden wave of dizziness at the fact you were clearly stuck.

For a brief moment you considered spinning in place and attempting to disarm him, relying on your own swiftness taking him off guard and beating his reactionary speed that would cause him to pull the trigger before you even saw what he looked like.

This plan was put to rest quicker than you could think it through, the bush rattling again as another figured pushed its way through the thick leaves. You watched his face pull into a wince when he saw you and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Hyung.” He muttered and you heard a sigh from behind you, their plan clearly not entailing this interruption. “She doesn’t have anything on her.”

The one behind you didn’t say anything about this, still not taking his gun off you considering the fact you’d made absolutely no move to lower your own weapon like he had originally instructed you. You remained still despite a wave of fear washing over you at the realization you had nothing of value for them to take other than yourself, a sudden reminder that the apocalypse was scary but being a woman was scarier.

“Go.” He was speaking again, still in that low timbre and the boy from the bush winced again, shaking his head like he wanted to deny the order but also taking an instinctive step forward like he was accustomed to taking them.

You couldn’t get a grasp on their dynamic or what they exactly wanted from you, the boy stood in front of you looked nervous like he had a thin idea of what would happen and he didn’t agree with it. You considered for a second if this was a situation worth trying to talk your way out of, eventually deciding to just let things take their course with your limited options.

“You don’t need to kill her, let’s just leave her here and go back.” He was taking another step forward and he continued to look over your shoulder, eyes only darting down to yours for a second in a silent plea for your cooperation. “She doesn’t know which way we’ll go”

“She was tracking.” The boy behind you was immediately noting and you almost cursed under your breath at the fact he was right. If you wanted to follow them you could, their tracks in the dirt obvious to you now that you’d spent months learning the skill.

“Then we tie her up and leave her, but we don’t need to kill.” He was shaking his head in exasperation and you could hear the boy behind you let out a frustrated sigh.

You had no doubt in your mind that if he was alone he would’ve killed you without a second thought, swift and silent in the way he had approached you from behind and keeping his gun firmly pressed against your skull. Despite your confusion you were silently thankful for the others boys resolve, although it came off as weak to you.

“If you’re going to tie me up in the woods you might as well kill me yourselves.” You were speaking for the first time and both boys reacted immediately.

The one behind you was shifting on his feet to stand firmer, pressing his metal into you while the other in front was giving you a helpless look, clearly upset you had immediately undone any progress he was making for your release.

It was silent for a few moments after that as they looked at each other and you wondered what conclusion they were coming to with just their glances. You hadn’t done yourself any favors in your statement but it was true, leaning you defenseless this close to dark was more of a death sentence than a bullet in your brain.

“We can take her back with us.” The boy from the bush was eventually whispering in a last attempt at keeping you alive, hands coming forward in a plea. “Not as a guest just as a prisoner for now, until we figure out what to do with her.”

You almost laughed at him but decided against it although figuring there was no possible way that would be allowed considering two seconds ago they were about to kill you. However the silence, and lack of immediate rejection, from behind you made you second guess.

You were being pulled to your feet before you even could process him moving again. “You’re explaining it to him, I’m not taking the heat for this.”

His tone was harsh but tired and you were startled at the fact he was actually taking you with, even more fear sinking in as you realized the ‘him’ he was referring to meant they weren’t out here alone. For some reason you hadn’t considered them being with a larger group.

The other boy didn’t say anything but you imagined he gave some form of silent acceptance considering the fact you were suddenly being moved forward harshly with your hands held behind your back.

You hadn’t seen the second boy yet but you were unnerved considering he was able to hold both your wrist together with a single hand, still keeping his gun pressed between your shoulder blades as you moved clumsily through the woods.

From their dynamic you had assumed they were alone, your first mistake, and that he was the leader out of the two of them. Hearing his words about explanation you realized the hierarchy wasn’t that simple and there was clearly somebody they both answered to outside of each other.

“Are your hands okay?” You looked to your left to see the kinder boy following you as you walked, staying at your side with his gun tight in his hands now.

The boy behind you sighed at his question and you weren’t sure exactly how to answer. They were hurting and if you saw any way out of this you would’ve complained, made a sarcastic comment that could potentially get your ass kicked if they weren’t feeling up for jokes at the moment.

Instead you offered him a small nod and turned back to face forward so you didn’t trip.

Your options now were to die here and now, act out and become more of a hinderance than their willing to deal with. Or go along with them and most likely end up being killed eventually anyways, maybe after at least one more night of sleep. You kept your mouth shut for the time being and kept walking.

“We should’ve blindfolded her.” The boy behind you was muttering after an hour or two went by and you vaguely heard the sounds of chatter and fire crackling off in the distance now. “He’s going to lose his shit.”

“Maybe we have Jake talk to him first.” The other one was whispering from beside you as the three of you slowed to a stop, accessing the situation before approaching with a stranger in toe.

It was clear to you now that this group was far larger than you had anticipated. They continued to whisper new names and you listened to the overlapping conversations off in the distance, your heart beating so fast it hurt as you skimmed through the different scenarios this could end in.

While they were distracted you were taking your chance, throwing your shoulder backwards to hit the first boy and taking off in a sprint back the way they had taken you from. You ignored his cry of shock and the others frantic plea for you to stop and come back as you whipped through the trees.

The sun was setting now so any tracking skills you had was completely useless, relying on nothing but your feet and the surrounding terrain as you attempted to put as much distance between you and the others as possible.

You could hear the two who had brought you back with them starting to yell out for help and despite cursing under your breath in frustration, you didn’t blame them and saw it coming before you even ran. You were a stranger and now you knew exactly where they were located, going from a hostage to a threat in seconds.

It had only been 20 minutes of running before you had exhausted yourself from lack of pacing, slamming against a tree and bending over with your elbows to your knees to try and catch your breath.

You could hear shouts in the forest behind you along with groans that brought on the harsh reminder you had more than one enemy in the woods. Their yells and loud feet over leaves and sticks were going to continue to bring more of the dead down on you and you were starting to panic completely.

Before you could think about it anymore or start running again, something heavy was slamming into your side and you were hitting the ground hard.

You flew across the leaves and mud before flipping over onto your back with a shout and scrambling away from whatever had rammed you before you even registered what it was. Another boy, not the one from the bush, was bouncing back to his feet considering he’d also hit the ground after he tackled you and was approaching you swiftly.

He looked furious but you couldn’t tell what type of weapons he had in the dark, kicking you feet out as he gained on you and hitting him in the knee.

A groan fell from his lips and he bent to grab his leg as you pulled yourself off the ground and instinctively reached down towards your thigh for your knife, finding the holster empty and immediately remembering it’d been taken from you hours ago.

He chuckled at your obvious dilemma although it lacked humor, an annoyed expression on his face like you were wasting his time. He was suddenly lunging at you again and although you were fast, he was definitely bigger and you let out a scream as he pinned you back down onto the floor.

Your stomach was pressed tightly against the dirt and you felt his knee land on your back, holding your arms tightly so you couldn’t break free from his hold again.

“Stop fucking moving already.” He was grunting from above you as you continued to thrash and attempt to kick at him despite slowly coming to the realization there was no getting free.

“Hyung.” Another voice was screaming out, obviously following the sounds of your cries and screams to find you. You twisted your head against the dirt to see the boy from the bush approaching you with a few others behind him.

“Sunoo go, you’ve done enough.” Your attacker was spitting from above you and you saw a flash of hurt over the others face, immediately taking a step back towards the rest of the boys who were watching the scene with varying expression.

Sunoo, the one who had brought you here in the first place, was clearly experiencing guilt as he looked down at you but you weren’t sure if it was for you or for causing an issue for his group. One of the boys behind him was reaching a hand up to grab his arm, pulling him backwards softly so he didn’t have to watch.

“Heeseung it wasn’t his fault.” You didn’t recognize the boy who was speaking now, approaching from the side, but you immediately could tell from his low timbre that he was the one who had held you at gunpoint. “I fucked up, we didn’t know what to do.”

“You kill her.” Heeseung was forcing the words out through gritted teeth and you were squirming again underneath his knee, the pain in your back excruciating as you started to find it difficult to breathe. “Or you leave her to the rotters, but under no circumstances do you bring her back to camp.”

Sunoo was glancing at the boy who had said something with a furthering expression of guilt and upset considering the fact those ideas had both been rejected by him. You thought about saying something, about pleading for your life or negotiating a deal where they could bring you far away and leave you somewhere you couldn’t find your way back.

You quickly decided against it considering how serious the boy above you was speaking, also piecing together this was clearly who was in charge and was being discussed in the woods previously.

The others boys were watching in the distance and you were trying to count them to see how outnumbered you were, eventually giving up considering how dark it was and how dizzy you were getting from being pinned against the floor. It was definitely more than you could handle and there was clearly no use in trying to out run them again considering how silently and quickly Heeseung had caught up to you the first time.

You hadn’t even heard him before he came out of the trees and it’d only taken him a second to bounce back onto his feet despite the tackle almost completely knocking the wind out of you.

He had you beat in all aspects and you didn’t feel like poking the bear would be the best move if you wanted to survive the night. That might not be up to either of you however considering the low groans that were starting to fill the forest.

Between the darkness and the almost echoing night air you couldn’t quite tell which direction it was coming from and judging by the way the group of boys starting to look around with their weapons raised, they couldn’t either.

You were being pulled up off the floor before you could think for another second and you sucked in a big breath now that your lungs were no longer restricted, immediately faltering when you were aggressively yanked around as Heeseung started to move towards the boys.

He was flinging you around like a rag doll and you heard him give out a low whistle, the others immediately forming a semi circle defense while everyone started to move in sync through the forest back towards where their camp was. It was a practiced routine and you would’ve been impressed if you weren’t technically their opponent right now.

“Pick your damn feet up.” He was speaking lowly into your ear with irritation and you let out a grunt as he continued to drag you.

“If you gave me a fucking second maybe I could.” You were spitting back and thrashing your torso forward slightly so his grip on your arms would loosen, he didn’t say anything about this and just glared at you as he let you get your balance so you could travel back to the base faster. “Thanks.”

He scoffed but didn’t reply to your sarcastic comment, traveling swiftly in silence on guard in case more than one dead came out from the dark woods.

By the time you got back to the camp, the fires were put out and nobody else was around. You weren’t sure if that’s because it was late or because everybody who lived here was apart of the group trailing behind you.

The camp was mainly made up of tents, some smaller like they were only fit for a pair and some large with big wooden stakes to hold them up. There was a few RV’s you could see from where you were standing and some trucks that could possibly run but for the most part they were large rust buckets littered with blood and dirt residue like the rest of the worlds vehicles.

You were being pulled into the largest tent before you could finish your observation and sat down in a chair furtherest away from the opening. You almost made a comment about them thinking you’d run again but you decided it wasn’t the best idea.

Only two of the boys followed you inside after Heeseung, the one from earlier who had attempted to take the blame off Sunoo and another you didn’t recognize.

“So what’s the plan then?” He was the one who spoke first and you glanced at him from under your messy hair, shifting uncomfortably as Heeseung tied your hands behind the chair tightly.

“First this idiot needs to tell me why he brought her back in the first place.” After he was finished and confident his ties were strong he was circling back around and approaching the familiar one, you couldn’t see his face anymore but his back was tense and straight. “What were you thinking?”

He cocked his head slightly but he didn’t seem deterred or intimidated by Heeseung’s demeanor, only breaking eye contact to spare you a quick glance.

You wondered if he was worried you’d give up the fact it was Sunoo who had practically insisted they bring you back. It was interesting that despite telling him he had to be the one to take the heat originally, he had immediately stepped up for the blame once he realized Heeseung was truly angry.

“She’s a tracker.” He brought his gaze back to the other boy as he spoke calmly. “She would’ve found us if we just left her and I saw no other option.”

The boy you didn’t recognize was looking at you now with a curious expression and you turned your head to look at him for a second, not able to get a good read on what he was thinking or what side of this argument he would be on. You wondered if this was the one mentioned earlier, Jake.

“You should’ve killed her Jay.” He was holding your gaze as he said it and you were taken back by his comment, not expecting him to be so blunt and cold.

Jay, despite being the one to originally put a gun to your head, also looked thrown off by this and faltered in his calm expression for a second and he looked at him. “Are you serious?”

“Jake’s right.” Heeseung shook his head, confirming your previous suspicious and Jay let out a small laugh of disbelief, taking a step away from the two boys back towards the entrance.

“I’m just supposed to blow her brains out right in front of Sunoo, just because there’s a slight chance she’d follow us?” He was holding his hands up in frustration and you shifted uncomfortably in the seat again, causing their heads to turn towards you.

Heeseung was approaching you swiftly and you watched him as he took large steps, gasping when his hand was reaching up to grab a solid chunk of your hair in his tight grip. He pulled slightly to make you look at up him, bending slightly so he could hold eye contact with you.

“How many people are in your group?” He was speaking steadily and low but you could feel the warning in his tone.

You were shaking your head in denial and confusion but stopped when he tightened his grip and repeated himself louder and more agitated. “How many?”

“I don’t have a group, it’s just me.” You were wincing and trying to hold his gaze, failing miserably due to the pain and intensity. Your eyes went over his shoulder to look at Jay and you gave him a desperate look. “Tell him it was just me.”

He didn’t say anything and you didn’t expect him to, only asking out of pure panic and as a last ditch attempt to plead your case. You weren’t afraid to die but if you could help it, it wouldn’t be in some random groups tent just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Heeseung was loosening his grip on your hair as he looked at you but keeping his hand on the back of your head, a silent warning in case you decided to act out in any sort of way. You watched him with your breath held as you waited for him to say something or react in any sort of way. He was just studying your expression like he was attempting to seek out some trace of a lie on your face.

“You can track.” He was stating suddenly but you took it as a question and nodded repeatedly as best as you could with how close he was to your face. “Can you hunt?”

You were nodding again but slower this time, not quite understanding where this was going. He was looking over his shoulder back at the other boys and Jake gave him an incredulous look that only confused you further before you slightly pieced together what he could he implying.

“You’re not serious.” He was laughing but it was devoid of humor, glancing at Jay who was stony faced as he looked at you. “Heeseung, you can’t be serious right now. Let her stay?”

You felt a wave of sickness pass by as he confirmed what you were thinking and you hoped you didn’t look too appalled visibly. You didn’t like this idea anymore than the thought of them killing you, never being in a group by choice. You didn’t necessarily play well with others and certainly not after they held you hostage and tackled you in the woods.

“She hunts.” He said it like it was obvious and you couldn’t deny the fact it was a valuable asset nowadays as human-made resources slowly died out. You’d noticed it yourself back at your apartment, having to venture out further and further every time you went for a run.

“Riki hunts.” Jake was quickly shutting him down and your interest piqued.

“Riki is learning to hunt but it’s not enough.” Jay was adding into the conversation now, still looking at you as he spoke like he had been since he entered the tent. “It’s almost winter and we can’t keep taking these day long trips every time we’re low…. and we’re always low.”

It was silent for a few moments while they looked at each other in frustration and you once again tried to understand the hierarchy and dynamics at play here, falling short every time. Eventually Jake was scoffing and exiting the tent, slamming the flap down as he left in anger.

Heeseung swiped a hand at Jay, dismissing him too and you didn’t miss the small nod he gave you before turning on his heel and following after the other boy.

That left you and Heeseung alone in the tent and he was taking a step away from you finally, watching you curiously as you took a breath finally and held his gaze tight in yours. You felt a dull ache in your back from his knee and your wrist were screaming for release from your constraints.

“Think of it as a trial.” He was turning away from you for a second as he started to talk and you stared daggers into the back of his head. “I don’t kill you now and in return, you don’t do something stupid.”

You watched him as he started to face you again with a stern look on his face, a hint of youth underneath the hardened exterior, and his eyes shot down to your feet and then back to hold your gaze. “Don’t give me a reason to kill you.”

——

You hadn’t spoken to him again but he didn’t seem too bothered by your silence, only muttering small commands as he dragged you out of the tent and towards one of the RV’s.

You were being left there for the night and you tried not to move much after he cut your restraints with a warning full glance, not wanting him to mistake your movements for another attempt at an escape. Despite not wanting to be there any longer than you had to, your chances were slim out in the woods by yourself.

You figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay a few nights, slipping out whenever you had gained their trust and didn’t need to sleep in a guarded metal bucket.

He’d left you with one of the boys you recognized from earlier in the woods, the one who had gently pulled Sunoo back after he started to get scolded. He looked the opposite of gentle now as he glared at you from the foldable table on the other side of the RV, gun hanging loosely on his lap and he watched you.

“Is there something on my face?” You were eventually muttering, not able to stop yourself as irritation bubbled to the surface.

You hadn’t asked to be brought back here, not even remotely putting yourself in this situation, yet everybody was acting like you were purposely causing issues or trying to harm them.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He was shaking his head and the deep tone of his voice threw you off slightly considering how young he looked.

Despite his youthful features, you could tell he was just as weathered and worn by this new world as everybody else was, you included. His eyebrows were pulled tight and his skin was darker in random sections like he had permanent dirt stains.

He was watching you as you observed him quietly, fidgeting slightly the longer you scanned his features and frame.

He was tall, a lot taller than you and even the other boys you’d encountered long enough to get a good sizing up done. You tried not to focus in on the tears in his clothing or the blood stains surrounding his knees and hands, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than you already were.

“If you don’t want me here, why not just let me go?” You were shrugging like it was a nonchalant thing to ask, feigning ignorance that he clearly didn’t buy judging by his scoff and annoyed expression.

“And get in trouble for no good reason? Are you stupid or do you think I am?” He was letting his gun lean against the table, deciding you were more of a bother than an actual threat.

You shrugged but didn’t talk to him again for a minute of offer him a response to his question, knowing it would just further upset him. Considering the two of you were clearly stuck with each other for the night you didn’t see the point. “I’m Y/N.”

He was sighing as you spoke again, your voice softer than before as you shifted on the uncomfortable half bed Heeseung had sat you down on. You watched him watch you for a few seconds before he finally responded.

“Riki.”

——

You weren’t sure when you had managed to fall asleep, at some point just laying flat on your back and listening to the sounds of the forest off in the distance as they mixed with Riki’s soft breaths on the other side of the RV.

Apparently you had considering the fact you were being shook awake aggressively, jumping up with a start and reflexively striking the person who had woken you.

“Dude what the fuck.” Jake was standing near your bed and shielding his face from any further assault, a pained look on his face. You gave him an incredulous stare at his reaction, not quite sure how he expected you to react to being vibrated awake by a stranger who had encouraged your death last night. “Make yourself useful.”

He was turning and leaving after that quick statement and you groaned, flopping backwards onto the uncomfortable mattress for a second before kicking up and out of the bed, following him outside before he got too far away and you were lost in the camp.

“You’re going out with Heeseung today.” He was explaining as you jogged to catch up with him, trying to ignore the stares and whispers from the other boys as you passed.

“Does that mean I get my knife back?” You were asking him despite already knowing the answer and he shot you a quick glance at the sound of your voice, looking away as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“First piece of advice, don’t ask stupid questions.” He was stepping forward towards a different tent than last night, holding the flap open with a raised arm until you got the hint and ducked underneath it with a muttered word of thanks. He followed behind you and you saw Heeseung and two other boys sat around the tent, gearing up.

Sunoo was there and he faltered for a second when he saw you, another look of guilt washing over his face as his shoulders tensed. You gave him a small nod but it didn’t seem to appease him in anyway.

The other boy wasn’t looking at you, instead focusing on the disassembled gun in his lap as he meticulously cleaned it and cleared his throat. His hands were fast and swift, no hesitation or question in his expression.

“They’re going on a run too.” Heeseung was speaking and you looked up at him to see who he was talking to, surprised to see him already watching you. “We are heading off in the other direction.”

You were nodding and fidgeting in place, not quite sure how to respond to him in a way that didn’t immediately showcase your frustration. You weren’t thrilled about going out into the world with no weapons and no clue if this guy had good intentions, maybe this was his way of killing you as quietly as possible. He obviously wasn’t expecting you to hunt with your bare hands so you weren’t sure why he was bringing you along.

Still, you didn’t bother arguing with him and after a few more minutes of prep you were following him into one of the trucks off away from the main camp.

“There’s a town about an hour away.” He was muttering eventually as he drove, the heavy rumble of the old engine almost putting you to sleep if it wasn’t for the aggressive way the truck jerked every time he amateurly changed gears. “We cleared it for food but at the time we weren’t thinking about other types of supplies.”

You were watching the side of his face as he spoke and he spared you a glance at your silence. “You think there’s still stuff left now?”

“Possibly but it’s worth a shot. There’s a reason you’re out here and not in Seoul just like us, a lower populated town means maybe less survivors passed by when everything went to shit.” He was sighing as he spoke but seemed hopeful as he tried to convince you.

He wasn’t wrong for the most part, you had traveled to a more rural area in hopes for less of the dead and more towns left undiscovered. You figured if this didn’t end soon then there would be no place left that wasn’t completely cleared out.

Heeseung was large and sturdy but you didn’t miss his sunken in cheeks and darkened eyes, clearly lacking vital nutrients and a healthy lifestyle. It wasn’t that jarring considering you hadn’t met anybody who was doing particularly well but being in a group with larger numbers certainly made things a bit more uneasy.

You took a second to study him as he drove, trailing your gaze from his black long sleeve down to his matching cargo pants. His weapon holster was tightly pulled around his thigh similarly to how yours normally sat and you were suddenly reminded how defenseless you currently were.

“How do you know I’m from Seoul.” You didn’t necessarily feel like talking to him anymore than you had to but if you were going to be stuck with him in charge of your life, maybe some small talk wouldn’t hurt.

“Riki.” He spoke bluntly but it answered your question considering the fact you’d spent most of the night talking to the younger boy after the tension between you had calmed down. “Nice to hear you actually talk occasionally.”

“Maybe I’m more inclined to speak with people who haven’t tried to kill me.” You were quipping back and he let out a small chuckle at your sudden change in tone, not taking any actual offense.

You understood why he had done what he did and he knew you understood but that didn’t mean you were happy about the way things had went down and were continuing to go. You didn’t want to be with them and that much was clear but at some point he had figured if you had somewhere to go, you would’ve put up more of a fight.

The truck jerked particularly hard around another turn onto a dirt road and he swore under his breath, yanking at the shift knob until it slightly smoothed out again.

He gave you an awkward glance out of the side of his eyes and you tried not to chuckle at his terrible manual driving skills. You figured eventually everybody would adapt to things they hadn’t needed to before but it was slightly amusing to know most of the world was desperately trying to adjust to things you’d always had available to you.

You didn’t bother telling Heeseung you could drive a stick shift better than anything else, having been taught in one back in high school. He didn’t need to know how good you were at setting camouflaged rabbit traps or that you weren’t half bad with a bow. Your skill set was better kept a secret until you could get as far away from this group as possible.

By the time you were finally pulling up to a small town, if you could even call it that considering it was just a few old wooden buildings and shops in a U shape, Heeseung seemed to have relaxed a bit.

“We’ll be in and out.” He was carefully instructing as you got out of the car and you nodded although you were feeling frustrated about having no weapon. “Stay close by in case you run into an issue okay?”

Despite your upset and undeniable feeling of vulnerability, the run was going smoothly for the most part. You were quick to enter buildings behind Heeseung as he checked for undead and you had actually managed to get a bag full of supplies that could help the group through the winter.

Your guard was lowering slightly considering you’d come across little corpses, the small town seemingly sheltered from the horror the rest of the world had been subjected to.

Neither of you talked much, the mission being at the front of your minds and you were thankful for the lack of distraction.

It wasn’t until you were on your fourth building, some old auto shop with a connecting garage, that you realized how mistaken you had been. Heeseung was still outside the front door, fidgeting with something old and rusty that you couldn’t quite place.

Whatever it was, he seemed determined to unearthed it from the weeds that had grown around it and you impatiently shoved past him into the store. He offered a small scoff as you pushed through but didn’t bother chasing after you or demanding you wait, also making the mistake of being relaxed.

The second you entered the shop and the door closed behind you, a small gap left open considering the door was also subjected to the growing nature that almost converted the entire building, you smelt it.

Throughout the many months you’d been getting accustomed to the apocalypse and all it’s trials and faults, you still hadn’t adjusted to the overwhelming stench that came along with awaken corpses. It was especially murderous when they moved in masses or were left rotting since the start.

“Heeseung.” You were calling out in a hushed voice, slowing down your steps and looking around the store with confusion. You ignored the fact it was the first time you’d said the boys name and how casually it slipped out, listening in to his small hum of acknowledgment from outside. “Do you smell that?”

You could hear him setting down the metal thing he was obsessing over and pushing the door open swiftly, looking at you with a worried expression.

Before he could speak or confirm your senses, you were hitting the floor with a shriek.

It took you a second to realize why you had fallen but the moment you started to think straight again you could feel the tight bony hand wrapped around your ankle, having dragged you down onto the dust covered floor. You sucked in a sharp breath and scrambled back the best you could, kicking at the walker who had gripped your pant leg.

You could see it now, halfway stuck underneath one of the fallen shelves and desperate in the way it’s jaws snapped around nothing.

You were still kicking it when you realized the groans suddenly starting up were far too loud to be coming from the single walker in front of you, understanding with a wave of panic that your shriek had clearly awaken whatever amount of dead it was that was causing such an odor.

“Fuck.” Heeseung was entering the store swiftly and rushing over to you, immediately stomping the rotted skull of the dead that was holding you with his boot.

Ignoring the amount of blood and brain matter that sprayed out on your face at his action, you accepted his hand and let him pull you up and off the floor.

There was no time to dust yourself off as you both heard crashing and groans coming from the connected auto garage, clearly full of dead that had been starving for far too long. They were pouring out in pairs from the small doorway and you and Heeseung stood frozen as you tried to think of a way out of this.

They were coming from both sides of the aisle, filling up the only exit route back to the open door and sufficiently trapping you in the store.

Your fingers were twitching and reaching down to your empty holster, cursing once you remember you had no weapons on you and turning your head to glare at Heeseung who was already watching you with a panicked expression.

His eyes shot behind your head and you almost jumped out of the way, expecting something dead and hungry behind you, before he was reaching a hand out to grip your arm and pull you with him.

You didn’t object despite your confusion and you followed him swiftly, groaning loudly when you understood he was leading you towards the back of the shop where a small maintenance closet was hidden behind some tool carts and brooms.

“Hurry up, help me.” He was shouting back at you as he started to throw things out of the way and you unfroze, helping him clear the way to the door.

You were spinning around once finished to see the hoard closing in on you, a flustered shout pushing past your lips. “Heeseung.”

“I’m trying.” He groaned, his leg propped up against the wall as he kept trying to pry open the old rusted door with all his weight.

Finally, he was stumbling back in your direction and you grabbed his arm to stop him from falling into the awaiting arms of the dead that were now only a few feet from being able to grab onto you. He was immediately catching his footing and ushering you into the closet before closing it tightly behind the two of you.

You sat with bated breath and you waited to see if it would hold, the bodies of the corpses smacking against it as they clawed and practically shrieked with hunger.

Heeseung was holding the doorknob tightly so it wouldn’t spring back open and although it was dark, flashes of light that managed to break past the dozens of shoes outside the door, revealed to you his fearful expression that didn’t help calm your nerves.

You opened your mouth to speak and ask him about what you were supposed to do but his eyes were shooting to your in a glare, his free hand coming up to cover your mouth as he shushed you.

Your eyes widened at the fact he was suddenly touching you, looking down at the hand over your face and then back up at him as he swiftly ripped it away and shook his head, gesturing to the door like you were stupid for trying to make any noise.

He didn’t look at you again as you furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance but nodded in understanding, realizing he wanted to wait until they had settled before showing any sign of life. They could definitely smell you and had no reason to give up, only driven by hunger, but you figured eventually something would come by and distract them.

Which gave you some hope that you could get out of here safe, not wanting to die stuck in a smelly auto shop closet with Heeseung, but you also let out a small sigh knowing you’d be waiting here for a long time.

For the first time since you’d been rushed inside the small space, you took a second to look around. It was tiny, so small that if Heeseung was standing straight and not bending slightly to keep the door held shut, his shoulder would be touching the other wall.

To make matters worse the opposite width wasn’t any bigger, the toes of your boots smushed against his with no room to scoot backwards or make less contact.

Eventually he was slowly letting go of the metal door knob, moving barely an inch every ten seconds as you both waited to see if they were going to suddenly rip the door open and devour you whole. It was clear after a few minutes that it was sturdy enough to keep you hidden behind it for now, you’re not sure you could say the same about the next few hours however.

Heeseung sucked in a much needed breath and leaned backwards against his side of the closet, his knees pointing out towards you in result.

He was watching you with a curious expression and you glared at him in silence, not sure if you were allowed to talk yet or if it would result in his large hand over your mouth again.

“In and out.” He was whispering it so quietly it almost looked like he mouthed it. You could still barely see him but you could hear the smile in his voice as he joked about your failed plan, the light catching his eyes as he peered down at you. “You good?”

You were nodding but shifting uncomfortably, suddenly remembering how close of a call you’d had now that things were calmed down enough for you to think properly.

“It really had me for a second.” You whispered back to him and shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you looked at the vibrating door. “I shouldn’t have let my guard down like that, it was stupid.”

“Then we’re both stupid.” He was muttering back and you tried not to be too curious why he was being so nice to you despite his harsh leadership within the group. “At least you weren’t alone.”

You were scoffing and shaking your head, his boot scooting forward towards yours in a warning to keep your noises at a low volume. He couldn’t exactly make out your expression considering you were placed lower than him and getting less light on your face but he could practically feel the death stare you were sending his way.

“It’s easier to be alone.” You were countering in a stern tone. “If I’m stupid alone I’m just dead but if I’m stupid in a group then I’m guilty. It’s on my hands.”

“It would’ve been on mine if you’d gotten bit back there.” He was cutting you off and you stopped abruptly, looking at him with parted lips. “But the same thing goes for if I die out here, if I don’t get back to camp, back to my family then that’s on me too. Not trying just because you’re alone isn’t an excuse.”

His tone was heavy now and you felt bad for getting him so frustrated considering how carefree he’d been for most of the day, possibly enjoying not having to direct orders and commands for a few hours. You imagine that if he was able to he would’ve stormed off and left you with his heavy statement.

Instead the two of you sat in the silence of what he had said and listened to the groans only a few inches away from your heads.

You were shifting suddenly and he looked back at you in question when you accidentally bumped against his stomach, not having room to move your arms anywhere.

“Is that why you lead them then?” You tried to keep your voice soft and questioning, not wanting him to mistake you for accusatory.

You didn’t want to fight with him again especially since he had saved your life not too long ago, potentially twice with his quick thinking to get the two of you into the closet.

“It just happened.” He was whispering back and his tone was slightly guarded. “We knew each other before and when.. everything went to shit they came to me one by one.”

“I was scared shitless, I mean sure I’ve chauffeured them around for a few years and I’d handle calling in our takeout orders but now I’m supposed to keep them alive?” He sounded flustered and you listened to him quietly, letting him talk.

For some reason it hadn’t occurred to you to wonder how long they’d known each other. They seemed comfortable and they worked fast and efficiently like they had experience with it but you’d seen similar things in groups who met only at the beginning of all this, being forced to learn how each other works to survive.

You briefly remembered Riki saying something about high school and Jay but you didn’t fully make the connection, maybe you just didn’t want to.

But listening to Heeseung so earnestly talk about the responsibility he carried as the leader and the eldest you felt a wave of understanding, immediately followed by the desire to run far far away from the inevitable care that comes along with a group this tightly knit.

“We left Seoul the first week in Jungwon’s old van.” He was continuing on and when you raised an eyebrow in question he was nodding in realization. “That’s the one who was cleaning the gun, he’s out with Sunoo right now.”

“How many more of you is there?” You hoped he didn’t think you were asking him in an attempt to get information on the group that would assist you in your escape, although you halfway were.

“Just Sunghoon, I don’t think you met him.” He was mumbling and you thought for a second before shaking your head.

That made a total of seven and a wave of fear washed over you at the thought. As of now you were leaving no matter what and as of now they weren’t going to let you just go easy, meaning in some form this was your opponent. Seven men who were capable and seemingly willing to kill you if necessary with the exception of one or two.

Heeseung’s silence made you think he knew what you were thinking and he shifted so he was standing again, no longer leaning against the wall.

This put him even closer to you and you held your breath at the proximity, only letting it out in a moment of shock when his hand was coming up suddenly and touching your face like it had earlier.

You were jumping backwards, at least as far as you could in the tight space and he was shushing you with furrowed eyebrows and a finger to his lips, glancing at the door in worry and then back to you as he continued what he was originally doing.

It took you a few seconds to remember the walker he had stomped on, to remember the blood and rotted skin that had splattered all over you.

Heeseung was gently wiping your face off with his hands, using his sleeves at times for the areas that were particularly covered. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment, his large hands stiffening for a second when he realized how awkward this situation was.

He was taking his hands away swiftly and clearing his throat, shuffling backwards again and avoiding looking at you. It was silent for a few minutes and you felt suffocated by it.

“You didn’t lose anybody.” You broke the thick air by speaking again and he flinched before looking down at you. “Since Seoul, did you lose anybody?”

His eyes flashed with something heavy and sad and you imagined he was thinking about his family, slightly curious why he had left without them and what had happened before the other boys showed up alone at his doorstep. Then he was shaking his head to answer your question.

“Then maybe you’re more fit to lead than you thought.”

——

“Was he scared?” Riki’s voice was ringing in your ear again and you groaned softly, leaning back on your pillow and trying your hardest to ignore his constant questions. “I mean, I’ve never seen Heeseung scared. What was it like? Did he cry a little bit?”

After a few more hours had passed in the closet, your suspicion was correct and eventually something passed by that caught a few of the undeads attention. The stragglers had wondered outside the auto shop and the rest immediately followed the noise and movement.

Heeseung and you had waited another half an hour just to be sure before slipping out finally, backs aching from standing straight and rigid for so long.

You’d gotten in the truck with the supplies you found earlier in the day and headed back to the camp, not wanting to risk your luck any further and needing to beat the night as the sun slowly set.

The boys had affectionately greeted the two of you when you arrived, or more so Heeseung as you hovered awkwardly behind and watched them all. You saw a boy you didn’t recognize and figured he was Sunghoon, finally having faces to all the names.

They all carried different expressions of worry and upset and you watched them scan his skin for injuries or scratches, eyes crinkling with relief when they saw he was safe and returned to them. Your heart felt heavy and your stomach turned as you watched the display of care and love towards each other.

You’d caught Jake’s eye for a second and he narrowed his at you, causing you to swiftly give him a nod and slink back into the RV you’d been assigned to.

The same RV that you were now groaning in as you listening to the young boy, the youngest boy as you had found out yesterday, talk your ear off with questions about what it was like to be stuck in a closest with his hyung.

“He cried like a baby.” You were muttering and he laughed softly before shaking his head, able to tell you were lying to him. “I’m serious, my shoulder was soaking wet by the time we got out of there.”

“You know you’re funny when you’re not glaring at me.” He was remarking and you scoffed softly. “The others don’t joke around anymore so I don’t either.”

He sounded younger than he looked when he said it, voice steady like he didn’t even process the weight and sadness of what he was saying. Maybe he’d already started to forget what it was like to be a teenager with no responsibilities.

For a second you zoned out picturing him before the apocalypse, a younger Riki wearing a school uniform and excitedly chatting with the older boys. Maybe he was shy or maybe he was just as talkative and mischievous as he seemed to get the few times you’ve talked to him.

You were abruptly broken out of your daydreams when you heard shouts coming from outside the RV, immediately sitting straight up in the bed and locking eyes with Riki as his widened in fear and concern.

As far as you knew, everybody had turned in for bed. Heeseung didn’t like any one leaving their tents after dark, a heavily suggested curfew seeming to be followed religiously and you couldn’t think of good a reason for the boys to be disobeying this.

You were standing up swiftly and making your way towards the small door, being stopped by a hand wrapped around your arm.

Riki was shaking his head with a panicked expression, pushing you back into the RV. “What are you doing? You can’t go out there.” His voice was urgent and he took a step between you and the door.

His protective expression was making you feel sick and your expression turned stony, moving to push past him but stopping as the door was flung open without either of you touching it.

Sunghoon was stood panting, looking up at you guys from the surface level. He took a step up the RV’s metal steps and glanced behind him with a hard look on his face. Now that the door was open you could hear the shouts louder and also the groans that accompanied them.

“We have to go.” He was rushing out and your mouth parted slightly, looking between him and back to Riki who Sunghoon had been watching since he opened the door.

The younger boy was shaking his head as his shoulders dropped and you felt a wave of upset and guilt for him wash over you, knowing this had been his only home for the past year considering the fact he wasn’t permitted to runs as often as the older boys.

“I’m sorry Rik, there’s too many we don’t have any choice.” Sunghoon was shaking his head sternly but his eyes were soft as he looked at his friend. “You need to pack and we have to go, both of you.”

His eyes moved over to you hesitantly and he lost the affection in his gaze, you didn’t take any offense to it and nodded your head as he turned to rush back to help the others buy some time. You touched the younger boys arm and he jumped slightly before looking down at you with a heavy expression.

“Let’s pack your stuff okay?” You whispered and your unusually gentle tone just made him feel worse, curling in on himself slightly as he nodded and started to grab what little belongings he had scattered around the RV in an attempt to make it feel more like a home.

He was done quickly and you were getting ready to exit the vehicle and join the others when he was grabbing your arm again to stop you.

You almost turned to scold him for wasting time and not letting you go but stopped in your tracks when you realized he was holding a gun out in between your bodies, gesturing for you to take the weapon.

You considered saying no for a few seconds, knowing Heeseung and the other boys wouldn’t be happy with you for accepting and most likely would also scold Riki for giving it to you in the first place. The need to survive overtook this and you took the gun from him, nodding in appreciation.

The second you stepped outside you understood why the only option was to abandon the camp. The dead were pouring in from every side of the forest, their groans mixing together and attracting more and more every minute that passed.

Your eyes were darting around try and spot the other boys but you couldn’t see them in the chaos, feeling frustrated and panicked as you heard Riki’s breathing getting more strained from beside you.

Eventually you spotted Sunoo at the same moment he saw the two of you as well as he was rushing over to you with a serious expression, eyes bouncing around to check if it was safe to stop and talk.

“They’re out past the river.” He was explaining swiftly and you nodded despite having no idea how to get there. It seemed to make sense to the two boys however because they were quickly turning on their heels and disappearing into the woods, looking back a few times to make sure you were following behind them.

Sunoo was running ahead of both of you and your heart clenched watching him take out a few stragglers that were making their way towards the over run camp, his knife effortlessly going into their rotted skulls as he kept rushing through the woods.

Eventually the groans got quieter and you could hear the light splash of a stream, catching sight of the other boys huddled together before the saw you.

“They’re here.” Jake was announcing when he picked his head up and saw the three of you approaching. He stood up and rushed to meet you halfway, checking Sunoo and Riki for injuries before his eyes landed on you.

His gaze trailed down to the gun clenched in your hands and for a second you thought he’d take it from you, demand you leave or maybe try to kill you here and now so they didn’t have another thing to worry about. Instead he took a step closer and briefly scanned over your body, similar to the way he was doing to the others.

“I’m okay.” You breathed out and you weren’t sure why you said it, just wanting to get his concerned look off of your frame as soon as possible. He nodded his head but lingered on your for a second before turning and walking back over to the others.

You followed behind him to see what the boys were surrounding, watching as they all pointed at a crinkled map and spoke in hushed voices. They carried bags on their shoulders and you vaguely noted that Jungwon’s was full of the guns he was always taking such intense care of.

“We’ve been that way man.” Jay was sighing and shaking his head and he pushed Jake’s finger away and moved it further down the map. “From here to here it’s not clear, dead ends or there’s just nothing left.”

“Well we can’t go north.” Sunghoon was countering and you could see a large red X over the area he was referring to. You wonder how long they’d been planning an escape plan with no luck.

You listened to them talk for awhile with a sick feeling in your stomach, wondering if you should help and throw out the idea that was brewing in your mind. On one hand this was your chance to escape considering they had no home to even protect anymore, you could sneak out or hold the gun in your hands to one of their heads until you were far enough away that they wouldn’t follow.

This could be your only opportunity to be back on your own, not owing any sort of debt to a group that was dealing with their own conflict.

Riki was looking back at you suddenly with a worried expression and that thought was immediately out the window as you let out a small sigh, upset at yourself for what you were about to do, before stepping up towards the boys.

“I know a place.” You were rushing out and they all turned to look at you. Heeseung’s eyes were softening at your sudden want to help and you nodded at him. “It’s a few hours south but I stayed there for a few weeks before I kept moving away from that area.”

“You think it’s still there?” Jungwon was asking, his first time speaking to you directly since you’d arrived to their group. His voice wasn’t as harsh as his glare though and he seemed genuinely curious, not suspicious of your motives.

“It was gated.” You shrugged and bent down, bumping into Heeseung’s side and causing him to sway in his crouched position. You were touching the map and felt relieved to see the area you were referring to wasn’t crossed out or circled. “It might not be but it’s worth a shot. Plus we don’t have many options.”

“We?” Heeseung’s voice was soft from beside you and you turned your head to look at him, flushing slightly when you realized how close to each others faces you were.

“Yeah.. we.”

——

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Strawhats with Rob Lucci’s younger sibling? But they aren’t aware of CP9 due to ✨reasons✨ and just think their big brother wanted to work at Water 7

Anon, I have some extremely unfortunate news for you. My dyslexia pulled a fast one on me and completely omitted the word 'strawhats' from this request, and I didn't realize it until I had already finished writing it and came back to post it. I am so sorry, feel free to send this request in again if you want to give me another shot to properly answer it. I'm gonna be reading requests 50 times over just to make sure I don't do this again. I am mortified. Hope you like this regardless, so sorry again.

Estranged

Yandere Rob Lucci x Sibling Reader

2.7k words

This was going to be a good thing for you, a healthy change of pace. An opportunity to move on from your past and no longer let it weigh you down. It was for the best, even if everything felt more than a little hollow right now.

After you finished putting away the rest of your belongings, you meander to the open window to take in your brand new surroundings. Water 7 was easily the most beautiful city you’d seen in your entire life. 

A light breeze carried the scent of the ocean into your small apartment. The walkway as well as the canal beneath you was busy, full of people going about their daily lives. Everyone here seemed so gleeful and carefree, as if they didn’t have a single problem hanging over them. You wonder if you’ll be able to fall into a similar state of mind.

Probably not, but you can dream.

Your train of thought is interrupted by your cat, Roberto, leaping up onto the windowsill next to you. You lightly scritched behind his ears as he looked down at the bustling city with his typical scowling expression. He was the grumpiest cat you’d ever met, but that just made his toleration of you all the more endearing in your humble opinion.

Shutting the window, you make your way to the door, “I’m gonna head out and take a look around the neighborhood, don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone.”

Roberto barely spared you a glance before jumping down to the floor to curl up in a sunny spot to sleep. A small smile tugged at your lips. Yeah, you weren’t worried about him doing anything bad in your absence. For all his standoffishness, he was a very mild mannered cat. As long as his food and water bowl were filled (which they were), he was fine.

You’d barely made it out the door before a couple of kids went sprinting around you, narrowly avoiding a collision. One of them shouted a quick “sorry” over their shoulder but kept on running to wherever their destination was, giggling about who knows what.

They looked similar. Siblings probably. Just like that, your mood took a nosedive, much to your aggravation. How childish to be bothered by merely seeing two potential siblings. You needed to get over it already.

It’s not like you were ever going to see Lucci again. He was gone and you needed to accept that.

The relationship you had with your older brother was odd to say the least. Mostly in the sense that you didn’t really have one to go off of. The last time you’d seen him, you were three years old, so you two could only be so close.

At the time, you felt like you were thick as thieves with him. Wherever he went, you followed, and vice versa. He’d do everything with you. From tying your shoes before you figured it out, to letting you wear his top hat, to fighting anyone else at the orphanage that had the audacity to try and pick on you. Even back then, you could distinctly remember how stoic he was, but you never doubted that he cared about you. And also his pigeon, Hattori. 

The only time you could recall where he was upset with you was when you’d spent the whole day pestering him to tell you about your parents. The orphanage was all you’d ever known, but surely he remembered something about them. After hours of changing the subject or blatantly ignoring you, he snapped, “It doesn’t matter! They aren’t here anymore, only I am. Just be happy with that and stop asking.”

You didn’t bring it up again. Not that you exactly had much of a chance to.

The following day was a strange one. Some men in suits showed up and took Lucci “on a walk”, not letting you come with. They never came back. When you asked the nun running the place where your brother was, she acted like she had no idea who or what you were talking about. It was as if he’d never existed.

Without your brother around to protect you, it became abundantly clear what a shithole that place was. You’d come to the sad realization that he’d been giving most of his food to you so you wouldn’t have to go hungry. There was also the issue of having to watch more and more kids disappear every couple of years and having no idea what happened to them or if you were going to be next. The general consensus between you and the remaining children was that they were being sold into slavery, but you never were able to confirm that.

As soon as you were old and strong enough to go off on your own, you did. For years you would bounce around the island doing odd jobs to stay alive all while trying to get a clue as to your brother’s whereabouts. Nothing ever came up, so when you scraped together enough money, you left for another island.

You repeated this cycle for years. Working, investigating, and then moving when the trail was cold. As disheartening as it was, you couldn’t bring yourself to give up. He wouldn’t give up if the roles had been reversed, so you wouldn’t either.

At least that’s what you told yourself at first. When you were first thinking this, you never imagined that he would still be missing over a decade later. You had never considered that you would genuinely never find so much as a hint to his whereabouts. Or his livelihood. 

At this point, it was easier to assume he was dead.

“I could go for a drink,” you mumble to yourself as you take a look around and notice a bar. You’ve been so caught up in your own thoughts that at this point you don’t even know where exactly you are. How responsible.

You push open the door to the establishment and do a quick once over. It’s busy, but not crowded. You should be able to quietly enjoy a drink or two without much trouble.

The sound of wings flapping catches your attention, and the next thing you know, something lands on your shoulder and starts cooing. Slightly startled, you snap your attention to where it landed and see a white pigeon happily nestling itself into your neck.

Holding out your hand, you gently guide it onto your finger to get a better look at the bird. It’s wearing an adorable red necktie and looks positively thrilled to see you for whatever reason. Despite your previous bad mood, you can’t help but smile. You’ve always had a soft spot for birds. What a cutie.

Someone at a nearby table laughs loudly, “Look at that Lucci, even your bird is better at making friends than you are!”

Your blood runs cold.

“Lucci?” No. No it can’t be. 

Slowly, you crane your neck around to look at where the voice had come from. That’s when you see it. The top hat. The dark, curly hair underneath it. Your breath catches in your throat as the man turns around. His facial expression is one of pure annoyance, until his eyes meet yours. Then he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

It’s him. He’s aged, obviously, but you would recognize those features anywhere. That’s your brother. That’s Lucci.

As if on autopilot, you mindlessly approached him, “Lucci, is that really you?” Your voice is so quiet that you’re not sure he could even hear you. He didn’t respond, so you continued, “I looked everywhere for you. Is this where you’ve been?”

Logically, you know you should be ecstatic to see him again, but as he continues to silently gawk at you something else creeps into your heart. 

Rage.

“You gonna say something, or are you just gonna keep staring?” One of your hands snaps out to shove at his shoulder. Still nothing. “I’m your fucking sibling, your own flesh and blood, and this is how you treat me after all these years?! I thought you were dead!” His fists clench and unclench, and his breathing is becoming uneven, but he still won’t talk to you.

In a fit of fury, you snatch a pint of beer off the table and throw the contents of it in his face, “Fuck you, I never should have wasted my time looking for you!”

Hattori flies off you from the commotion and is circling the table. The patrons of the bar are mostly silent save for some gasps and hushed whispers, but you don’t hang around any longer. You can’t. You don’t want to let that bastard have the satisfaction of seeing the tears that are seconds away from spilling over. 

How dare he? How dare he do this to you? You’ve spent all this time remembering him fondly, searching for any sign of him, and when you finally find him completely by accident, this happens. He gives you the silent treatment and acts like he doesn’t know you. You thought he was dead or a slave when in reality he was leading a normal life and getting a drink with his buddies. 

Maybe he’d been glad to get rid of you.

You choke out a sob as you run, not sure where your feet are taking you but hoping to see anything that can point you to your apartment. All you want to do is to curl up in your bed with your cat and cry. Fuck it, maybe you’ll pack up your things and leave Water 7 tonight. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him again now.

You can register the sound of someone running after you. Probably the guy whose drink you threw if you had to guess. Way to go, (y/n), making a scene and ruining your reputation within hours of moving to a new city. You don’t want to face the consequences of your actions though, and pick up the pace to try and get away from them.

This doesn’t work and they close the gap far quicker than you expected. Strong arms wrap around your torso, and they pick you up and carry you into some quiet alley. You try to kick and scream, but your kicks do absolutely nothing and a hand covers your mouth. 

As soon as you’re out of sight of the general population, you’re put down and pushed into a wall. You can finally see who your assailant is, only to lock eyes with Lucci. Scoffing, you slap away his hand, “What? Now you want to talk?” 

“Yes, I do,” his response surprises you. You hadn’t actually expected him to speak to you after how he was acting at the bar.

“Oh really? How come you didn’t want to talk before? Too embarrassed to speak with me in public?”

“I can’t speak with you publicly, but not for that reason.”

He didn’t elaborate further, but you decided to move on. There were a lot more things to get to. You cut to the chase, “Where have you been?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Forget this, he’s fucking with you at this point. You try to walk away from this pointless conversation, but he’s holding onto your wrist and won’t let go.

“I’m leaving, I don’t want to talk to you,” you’re trying to wrench your arm out of his grasp but he’s much stronger than you thought. He wouldn’t budge.

“We’re not done talking,” his eye twitched in irritation at your behavior.

“We never started talking! You aren’t saying anything meaningful, I would get more out of talking to a brick wall!” You screamed at him, trying not to start crying again. 

While you’re trying to get away, you feel something land on your head. This makes you stop and calm down ever so slightly. The cooing immediately gives away that it’s Hattori. You hold up your hand for him to hop on. How is it that you’re connecting with the pigeon more than your brother? You sighed, “At least someone is happy to see me.”

From your peripheral vision, you can see Lucci stiffen and avert his piercing gaze. He grumbles a bit, “I am… Happy. To see you.”

You scoffed, “Wow, that sounded so convincing.”

Lucci released your wrist, and if it weren’t for Hattori thoroughly enjoying the attention you were giving him, you would have taken the opportunity to leave. You eyed him warily as he inched closer to you, looking incredibly unsure of what he was doing. Then his arms reached forward and enclosed around you in what was hands down the most stiff and awkward hug of your life.

He let go and took a couple of steps back, refusing to make eye contact with you, “There, do you feel better now?”

Your memories took you back to the time you’d scraped your knee while playing tag with Lucci when you were children. In typical little kid fashion, you were inconsolable from the minor injury. He carried you back to the orphanage and bandaged your knee himself, but didn’t know what to do when he saw that you were still upset. In a last ditch effort to get you to calm down, he’d brought you into this uncomfortable side hug while looking everywhere except for at you. The whole display was so silly looking that you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

Despite everything that just transpired between you two, your heart felt warm. He hasn’t changed a bit after all. You chuckle, “No, that hug was terrible. Not to mention that now I smell like beer.”

“And whose fault is that?” His eyes narrowed at you accusingly.

“Yours for making me mad enough to throw it at you,” you laughed again at the dramatic eye roll he did in response. 

“You’re the only person in the world who I would let get away with that, I hope you appreciate that,” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” you shrugged off the comment, not putting much stock into it. The previously tense atmosphere had relaxed, but there was still some awkwardness to it. It was unavoidable really, after this much time apart you two didn’t know each other. What were you supposed to talk about? The questions you asked before went unanswered so now you didn’t know what to do.

“What are you doing in Water 7?” Lucci had mercifully been the one to break the silence.

“I just moved here. Wanted a fresh start, you know? What about you? Can you at least tell me that?” 

“I’m a foreman at the Galley-La Company, have been for a few years,” he states plainly. 

You’re honestly surprised to have received a real answer. You decide to push your luck and ask another question, “How come you never came back?”

Lucci took his time mulling over how to respond, “I wasn’t able to. If I could have, I would, but it wasn’t an option. I can’t tell you why, but I need you to believe me. The second I’m in a position to do so, I will tell you, but for now I simply can’t.”

“What the hell are you tied up in?” Something bad is going on here, but you’ll be damned if you have any idea what.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Well, looks like he’s done answering your questions again. At least you made some progress. The awkward silence came back, and you found yourself wanting to go home. You needed time to take all of this in and decompress.

Setting Hattori onto Lucci’s shoulder, you tell him as much, “It’s been… Interesting seeing you again, but I’m tired and want to go home.” You don’t wait for him to respond before hurrying away.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lucci closes the distance quickly and the look on his face leaves no room for argument. You suppose that’s fine. Him knowing where you live will make meeting up again later easier.

You have no idea how your relationship with him is going to evolve after this. Considering how much time has passed, it’s impossible for things to go back to how they were. Maybe you’ll be able to forge a new and improved sibling bond with him, but only time will tell.

[deadgirlwalking91]

new update - 'thank you for the venom', chapter 8: 'stay quiet, stay near, stay close, they can't hear'

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight Summary

Lute makes a decision regarding Adam's proposition.

No weekend preview today... instead, I'm positing the whole chapter ;) hoping to shift my posting schedule to the weekend instead of a Tuesday, so let's see how this works. Thanks all for reading and engaging so far, hope you like this one. It was a fun time to write! Cheers @branded-rose for beta-ing and for patiently answering all my "but does this make senseeeeeee" questions. You have the patience of a saint to deal with me haha.

This was a predicament that Lute never, in her wildest dreams - or nightmares - expected to find herself in.

Sure, lately her interactions with Adam had been teetering more towards civility, as opposed to constantly wanting to rip his throat out with her bare hands. And their meeting the other week, despite her stomach-ache later and awful bloating later that night, had been somewhat tolerable.

Though, the feeling in her stomach after that meeting was nothing compared to the liquid-hot magma that was simmering at the moment, threatening to spill up into her chest and flow throughout her entire body.

Granted, she should have known better, should have been prepared that something like this would happen. As soon as she set Adam straight on her sexuality, she knew it was only a matter of time before he pulled his predictable bullshit and hit on her. After all, she’d be the final notch on his bedpost when it came to the women in his army. 

The straight ones, anyway.

What she didn’t expect though, was to enjoy it.

It wasn’t like Adam had never been close to her physically - in fact, it felt that in the few months since he found out about her revamped training regime, he’d found multiple ways to invade her personal space to antagonise her. And it worked. Executed to perfection by him, really. He knew how to get under her skin, and he excelled at it.

This, though? He was getting under her skin, just not in his usual manner.

Because this time, despite the rational part of her brain screaming at her to snap out of whatever stupor she’d found herself in, she was hot, bothered and turned the fuck on. And she needed to leave before she did something stupid about it. Now.

Especially considering if she stayed, she’d probably keep drinking, which given her current state of mind, was not smart. She’d already had enough.

Shakily, Lute slid off her stool, gripping the padded seat for support as she found her feet. Wine on an empty stomach was never a good idea. It went straight to her head, clouding her judgement. Fuelling potential bad decisions.

Sober Lute wouldn’t let her boss tell her he wanted to take her home for the night and have his way with her. Or let him put his hands all over her in public while she held them against her body, in full view of her sisters, like he owned her. Like she was his, and his alone.

And she would never, in a million years, have thought that she wanted to be taken to his place so he could have his way with her. She needed to move away from him, so that the tiny shred of willpower that she was desperately clinging to wouldn’t be whittled down to nothing. 

Smoothing her dress down, she cleared her throat before turning to Adam, who was now leaning against the bar counter, smirking down at her. Bastard.

“I need to go,” she declared, her voice faltering as she lifted her chin in a last-ditch attempt at bravado. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the office.”

He folded his arms, his arrogant smirk only growing as he looked her up and down, his eyes lingering hungrily at the hem of her dress.

“Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go, Lutey.”

Exhaling deeply, trying to control her heart thumping in her chest, Lute ignored him as she strode towards the door leading to the gardens outside. She needed to find Vaggie, to pretend she was feeling unwell so they could leave, immediately.

She had to get home as soon as possible before she changed her mind and ran back to Adam, and she could only do that with Vaggie’s support.

Not that she’d breathe a word of what had happened to her.

She threw the door open and briefly closed her eyes as she felt the relief of cold air, the gentle breeze welcomed on her burning face and chest as she scanned the courtyard for her friend. Despite the pleasant, mild night the outdoor space was mostly deserted, save for a small group of exorcist angels seated around a table chatting excitedly amongst one another. Lute wandered throughout the gardens, keeping an eye out in hope that she’d spot Vaggie amongst the exotic flowers and greenery. 

No luck.

Sighing, she approached a secluded corner in the far end of the courtyard, hidden by a large, leafy tree. The space was unoccupied, but her head was reeling from her encounter with Adam inside the bar and she needed a moment to process her thoughts, to try and come up with a game plan on how to move forward.

She leaned the side of her body against the wooden fence that lined the perimeter of the venue, facing away from the rest of the yard, her features relaxing for the first time since walking away from Adam. Her chest heaved, the pounding in her heart ringing in her ears as she raked a hand through her hair, trying to recreate the sensation of his fingers running along her scalp. 

Her hands dropped to hold herself around her waist, recalling his possessive hold on her like she belonged to him.

Remembering his bare hand splayed across the top of her bare thigh, inching further and further up her leg until he toyed with the hem of her dress, and how the only coherent thought that ran through her head was how she wanted him to keep going, to feel his way under the material until…

She swallowed nervously, trying not to let her imagination run too wild.

“Get it together, Lute,” she muttered to herself, sharply pinching the soft flesh of her inner arm in an attempt to shock herself out of her lustful stupor. It had no effect except for leaving a gold-tinged mark on her pale skin. “He’s only doing this because he’s realised you’re just another number he can add to his body count. Nothing more. You don’t matter to him. You don’t want to matter to him. He’s an incompetent idiot.”

Hugging her arms around herself, she puffed her cheeks and rubbed her thumbs into her biceps, attempting to distract herself from her thoughts. She let her chest rise and fall rhythmically, and, after some time, her pulse slowed.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, zoned out, focusing on her breathing, when she felt two large, firm hands take hold of her hips from behind. Yelping in surprise, her heart rate skyrocketed once again, and she didn’t need to turn around to know those hands belonged to the very man she had walked away from earlier that night.

“What the fuck, Sir?” she gasped, her grip on her arms tightening. “What do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me like that?”

“You never gave me an answer,” she heard him say, his raspy voice quieter than usual. Softer.

“I was just leaving,” she lied, her body betraying her brain as she turned around, her hands shifting to instinctively rest on his chest. Swallowing nervously, she looked up into the yellow features of that hideous fucking mask that she hated so much.

She wasn’t quite so sure though, that she still hated what laid underneath anymore.

It was unlikely she’d ever find out.

“Leaving all by yourself, babe?”

“Yes,” Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands started roaming her body once more, one coming to rest on her lower back, the other cradling the back of her neck. “Specifically, without you.”

Shit, shit, shit. 

“Then why haven’t you gone home, hmm?”

Her eyes involuntarily fluttered shut as he ran his thumb down her jawline, letting it come to rest against her bottom lip where he gently tugged at it, parting her lips slightly.

It took every shred of the minimal willpower left in her body not to give in completely to him then and there. She just couldn’t bring herself to be yet another number. To be branded another one of ‘his girls’.

She could almost hear Vaggie’s stern voice in the back of her mind, reminding her that she was better than that, that she was smarter than that…

“Come home with me.”

“No.”

She opened her eyes, and gold met yellow as she stared into his soulless, digital face. 

Think, Lieutenant.

It was in that moment, somewhere amongst the fog that clouded her judgement, that Lute found the exact solution to her predicament. What if there was something in it for her? What if she got what she wanted? Something to finally satisfy her curiosity?

There was a ninety-nine percent chance he would decline, anyway. Probably tell her to fuck off. If that were the case, no harm done. She’d avoid becoming the very thing she hated, and while she wouldn’t get what she wanted, she could live with that. They could forget this night ever happened and go back to hating each other and trading blows as per usual.

But if he said yes… then she might be able to justify it.

“Unless,” she said slowly, glancing downwards at her feet, carefully trying to articulate the words in her mind before they left her mouth. “Unless you give me what I want.”

She felt his grip on her neck tighten, shooting shivers down her spine, rattling her. “Go on.”

“I’ll -” she took a breath. “I’ll go home with you. But only if you take the mask off. I get to see your face.” She looked up at him, squaring her shoulders in an attempt to feign confidence. 

Adam’s hands fell by his side as he stepped backwards, shaking his head.

“As tempting as your little proposal is, it’s not happening, Lute.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the pang of disappointment that nagged at her. “Then I guess I’m going home alone tonight.”

“Fine.” 

“Good.” Lute crossed her arms and glared towards the centre of the courtyard, trying to see if Vaggie had ventured outside so she could grab her and leave without looking back.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adam’s mouth. “You seem kinda pissed. Something you wanna share with me, babe?”

“No.”

“Admit it, you thought what happened back inside was kinda hot.” With one stride, he’d managed to close the distance between them again, their bodies just touching - though she was slightly disappointed that he’d managed to keep his hands to himself this time.

Lute snorted. “Please, Sir. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen you pull the exact same moves with the other girls in the past. I was just…” she trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

“Just what, hmm?”

His hands found her hips again, pressing her against him, and her wings fluttered involuntarily.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.”

“Which is?”

He flashed her a wide smile, dragging his fingertips slowly up and down her sides. He was deliberately antagonising her. Teasing her. “You’ve got it bad for me, babe. I don’t blame you - I’d have it bad for my boss, too.”

Lute’s eyes widened, horrified. “You have it bad for Sera?”

“Shit!” Adam cursed, fingers digging into Lute’s waist. “I fucked that up -”

Lute tilted her head back slightly and laughed, shoulders quivering as her hands came to rest on his forearms. 

Accidentally, of course. 

Adam snickered, shaking his head. “I haven’t screwed up a line like that in years. I’m usually smooth as fuck.”

“First time for everything, isn’t there, Sir?” she smiled up at him, amused, momentarily forgetting the unusual predicament she had found herself in. A rare, peaceful silence passed between the two of them; one where they did nothing except smile at each other.

It seemed there certainly was a first time for everything.

“Yeah, he mused, uncharacteristically quiet, cocking his head to the side slightly and frowning. “I guess there is, Lutey.”

Adam pulled one of his hands away from her waist, causing her hold on his arm to slip. Hesitating slightly, he brought it to the chin of his mark and lifted ever so slightly before stopping completely.

Lute’s breath caught in her throat as the realisation of what he was doing hit her like a ton of bricks, her heart now racing so fast she was sure he could feel it rocketing away in her chest.

“Wha -”

“Close your eyes.”

She gripped his arm tighter. “No way, you’re finally taking that hideous thing off, I’m not -”

“Close your fucking eyes, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

Groaning in frustration, she reluctantly obeyed her commanding officer, squeezing her eyes shut. “Fine, they’re closed. Tell me when to open.” His other hand fell from her waist, her other arm coming to rest by her side as he moved away, putting distance between them once again.

She desperately wanted to peek, to let just one eyelid open slightly so she could see what he was doing. Did he have to fix himself somehow before revealing his true identity to her? She held her breath, trying to listen for a sign of what to expect when she was allowed to look.

Nothing.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she puffed her cheeks in frustration. “Can I open them now?”

“No, you impatient bitch! Do not fucking open them until I say. I mean it, Lute, or I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine, whatever, just hurry up.”

Two warm hands suddenly cupped the sides of her face, tilting it upwards, a single thumb grazing her cheekbone.

“What are you doing?”

“Remember, keep them closed,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

She couldn’t think; him being so close to her was making her head spin, her heart flutter, her throat tighten.

Then, without warning, he closed the space between them and kissed her.

It took Lute a moment to register that the mask had gone, and that the mouth against hers was warm and soft, kissing her with an eagerness that caused her to melt against him completely.

His lips moved expertly against hers, capturing her mouth over and over as his hands left her face and grabbed at her hips, shifting her so that her back was flush against the wooden fence.

Lute sighed into his mouth, her own hands instinctively flying upwards into his hair, running her fingers through the coarse strands, trying to imagine the colour, the style, how it framed his face.

Oh, how she longed to see his face.

“Hold on, babe.” Adam whispered against her lips, and before she could respond, he gripped the back of her thighs and hoisted her up, his hips pinning her roughly against the fence.

Wrapping her legs around his middle for stability, Lute moaned softly as he slowly ran his tongue across her bottom lip, silently asking her for permission to enter her mouth. And when their tongues finally collided, his hands started hungrily roaming her thighs and ass under her dress, grabbing at and rubbing her bare skin like he couldn’t get enough of her.

She tried to concentrate on his touch, how he was practically manhandling her like she was his little plaything, his large hands desperately kneading at her skin.

Warmth pooled between her thighs as she wondered what else he could do with those fingers.

Disentangling one hand from his hair, she let it drop so she could cradle his face in one hand. She took her time feeling the stubble along his jawline prickle the soft inside of her palm as he continued working her mouth with his own, keeping a firm, steady pace, not showing any sign of stopping or slowing down. 

The sensation of touching his face and hair, but not seeing him was exciting, enthralling, exhilarating, and she made the silent decision that if it just so happened that he ended up fucking her against the fence, then so be it. Dignity be damned, she was horny as fuck and they’d gone this far, what did it matter if they ended up going all the way?

Her dress was hiked up around her waist now, exposing her thin, cotton underwear to him. Groaning loudly at the sensation of his hardened length pressing against her, she tensed her legs and ground her hips into his. She started rhythmically rolling them back and forth, the friction causing her arousal to build, almost sending herself over the edge at one point before she backed right off. She didn’t want to spoil herself in case things escalated further, plus she had a feeling there was no way she’d be able to keep quiet if she did come. Given they were in a public place, that could be a problem.

When Adam eventually broke away, both of them gasping for air, she threw the back of her head against the fence in protest, groaning at the feel of the night’s air on her face.

“You kept them closed,” he breathed, a hint of relief evident in his voice as he eased his hips off hers, her feet giddily touching the ground once more. “Aren’t you a good lieutenant, obeying orders? That’s why you’re my best girl, Lute.”

Breathless, she nodded, blindly grabbing his face to draw his mouth down to hers as she let out a needy little whimper. Because above all, she was a damn good lieutenant and it was about fucking time he recognised it. Took him long enough, too.

“Just so you know,” he whispered against her, letting her tug at his bottom lip with her teeth, “I don’t do this shit. Ever.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, not paying attention to what he was saying as one of his hands found its way to the thin strap of her dress, slipping it down to expose her shoulder.

“I mean it, babe. I don’t kiss on the mouth, and I’ve never taken this off for anyone.” Down came the other strap, her shoulders fully exposed to the cool night air now. She suddenly became aware of just how hard her nipples were. They painfully rubbed against the material of her dress, adding to the pleasure she was already feeling in other parts of her body as she pressed against him.

“Mmmhmm.”

Lute simply didn’t care what he was talking about at that moment; truthfully, she wasn’t registering a single word that he was saying. Right now, she was too busy focusing on the sensation of his massive hand under her dress, teasing as he ran a finger just underneath the seam at her inner thigh. She whined in frustration, bucking her hips in the direction of his hand, indicating that she wanted him to quit messing around with her and get to the fucking point.

“Lute, are you out here? It’s time to go.” 

A familiar voice rang clear in her ears, causing Lute to stop dead in their tracks as she was trying to undo the zipper of her dress one-handed.

Vaggie.

“Shit!” She broke the kiss, whacking Adam forcefully on the arm in hopes that he’d get his hand out of her underwear and pay attention to the fact that Vaggie was about to catch them making out against the fence.

“Vaggie!” she hissed, ducking her head into his chest. “Tell me if she’s coming this way, my eyes are still closed! I can’t see where she is!”

“Keep them fucking closed until I say otherwise,” he growled, moving away and Lute had to bite the urge to protest when she no longer felt him touching her.

If Vaggie found her here, secluded in the corner with Adam… she would know. She was incredibly astute, and even if Lute could come up with a brilliant excuse as to why she was alone and dishevelled with her boss’ hands up her dress, Vaggie would never, ever in a million years buy it.

The judgement alone would be enough to kill her.

“Lute?”

“Open.”

Lute’s eyes fluttered open, darting towards the door where she could faintly make out a familiar, grey bob heading back inside. Exhaling, she slid downwards against the fence until she hit the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her, grateful that Vaggie hadn’t bothered to look for her too hard.

In her relief, she’d even almost forgotten about Adam until he joined her on the ground, mask and hood firmly fixed back in their usual place, much to Lute’s disappointment..

“If she’d seen us…” she started, trailing off as she rested her head against the fence. “She’d gut me with her spear in a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

Lute turned, frowning slightly at Adam. “Because for years, she’s heard me complain about what a rude, obnoxious, disgusting, incompetent asshole you are. And she’d tell me I’m worth so much more than just being another notch in your belt.” She jutted her chin out and drew herself up taller. “And she’s right. I’m strong, and intelligent, and a damn good leader to those girls.”

“Never said you weren’t.”

“I don’t need you to,” she shot back. “I don’t need your validation.”

“Then what are you going on about, woman?”

Lute chewed her lip nervously, unsure if she should be blunt or dance around the issue. “I think you only hit on me tonight because you’ve found out I’m straight.”

Adam snorted. “That’s bullshit.”

“The timing is very coincidental, Sir.”

Adam cleared his throat. “Look, yeah, I didn’t think you were into guys. And maybe that’s my bad, because honestly, I didn’t give a shit about getting to know you. You’re a bitchy, mouthy little brat who doesn’t know when to quit. But,” he added, noticing Lute’s face had hardened in anger, “You do a fucking great job as my lieutenant. The girls know it, I know it. Fuck, even Sera knows it, or otherwise she wouldn’t have taken your idea seriously.”

Lute nodded, her expression softening. “Thanks.” She fiddled with the hem of her dress, unsure how else to respond.

“Why did you do it?” she found herself blurting out, avoiding his gaze as a blush crept up her cheeks. She wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared for his answer.

Adam cocked his head at her. “Do what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Do - do what we did before.” 

She couldn’t quite bring herself to ask ‘why did you almost fuck me against the fence?’

He shrugged. “I figured we should just get it out of our systems. Years of sexual tension and all that jazz.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what, Lute?”

“Get it out of your system?”

He stared at her, expressionless. “Yeah. Did you?”

“Yep. Gone. So out of my system.” she lied, waving a hand in the air, feigning nonchalance.

It was, in fact, not out of her system. Not after she’d felt his lips against hers, or how his coarse hair felt in her hands as the strands slipped between her fingers. How his identity was still a complete mystery, but at least now she knew he was real under that mask.

Still, their little encounter had left her yearning for more. So much more. She needed to know the colour of his eyes, whether his hair was dark or light, what his skin tone was. 

How his body would feel on top of hers as he buried himself inside her.

“But…” she continued, breaking her train of thought before her imagination began running wild. “Can we never speak of this again? Pretend it never happened?”

“Yeah, alright. Fine,” he answered dully, and she noticed his mood suddenly turning sour.

“I mean it, Sir.”

“I said fucking alright!” Adam snapped, turning away from her.

Lute crossed her arms and glared in the opposite direction, irked by his sudden change in demeanour. “Good.”

Neither of them spoke for several seconds, instead choosing to avoid looking at each other completely.

“Well,” Adam said abruptly, pulling himself up to a standing position, still not looking at Lute. “I’m out. See you tomorrow morning in the office.”

“Bye, then.”

She reluctantly watched him leave, and sighed, knowing that despite the night’s crazy turn of events, their parting exchange proved that tomorrow would be just another day in the office.

Groaning, she banged her head against the fence again. 

Dammit.

Adam took his seat at the bar again, nodding at the bartender as they caught his eye and pointed to a glass.

The night had… escalated. Far more so than he imagined it would, despite said escalation being his doing.

If only they hadn’t been interrupted by Vaggie, that cock-blocking little bitch, he was sure Lute would have agreed to go home with him.

Sighing, he pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time and noticed a text message notification at the top of his screen. He clicked onto it, frowning.

Layla: Hey, raincheck tonight? Something’s come up.

He’d forgotten all about his plans with Layla amongst the excitement of that night’s events. And yet…

He had no desire to see Layla that night. Or any other woman, for that matter.

Not unless she had platinum hair, a smart mouth and could put away two dozen ribs, preferably in a tiny, red dress.

Adam: All good, chat soon.

She replied almost instantly.

Layla. No worries. Besides, you seemed preoccupied tonight - not that I blame you. She looked hooooot ;)

Smirking, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and accepted the drink from the bartender. Layla was the ultimate hype-girl, and for that, he was thankful.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lute making her way hurriedly to the front door, pausing momentarily to glance at him before ducking her head and slipping away into the night.

Tonight may not have been the night to sleep with Lute, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to happen. 

He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later. 

***

Next time: Another training mishap puts Lute in a tricky situation for a week or so.

[taintedtort]

heeeey! Im anon who asked for an idea with being comforted by characters after reader was hurt! i looove how you wrote it and it was soooo amazing!i love all parts you wrote but scaras is the bestest! Thank youuuuu!!but can i ask for a part 2 just with more other characters?with Albedo and Lumine and Shenhe and Ganyu???im not sure if you write for women too so if not them then maybe Childe too?Lumine is just so cool and awww i want her to give me a big hug so bad sometimes! But you dont have to do this i just hope u know how much your works mean to mee💕💕💞💕💞💓you cant imagine how sweet it felt to read it when i feel down it helped a whole lot! Thank you again!

prompt ✧ them comforting you pt 2

characters ✧ albedo, lumine, shenhe, ganyu

warnings ✧ gn!reader, hurt/comfort

a/n ✧ hello returning anon! i loved writing the first one and i’ve also been wanting to write with female characters so thank you so much!! i’m extremely happy that you enjoy my posts, srsly made me smile so big when i read this

ALBEDO

✧ when you arrived back to his shelter in Dragonspine, he noticed something was off. he had sent you into Mondstadt so retrieve some items for his experiments. of course, he knew you weren’t one of his assistants but you always insisted on helping with whatever he needed, so he sometimes takes advantage of your kindness to save himself the trip. this time however, you came back with a certain mood surrounding you. before you left you gave him a big kiss on the cheek before setting out with a happy smile, but now that smile is gone. he asked you what was wrong, but dropped it when you replied with a simple "nothing." he wasn’t completely in tune with his own emotions, let alone someone else’s so he sort of assumed he was overthinking and there really was nothing wrong. after a handful of hours passed by, he was painfully aware of your distant mannerisms. he obviously pestered you, he was sure that there was something the matter. once you told him that some people in town had some nasty things about you, he understood immediately. he knew as a boyfriend he was to stay and comfort you, so that’s exactly what he did. wrapped you in a blanket to shield you from the cold air and leaned you against him. the two of you sat in silence as you let yourself rid the negative thoughts and instead focus on albedo, the man who loves you.

"im sorry, i should’ve known."

LUMINE

✧ instantly knew something was the matter when she returned to you from wandering around the new town you two were in. she had a commission to complete so she had been walking and asking the town people about any sightings. she insisted you sat so you didn’t tire yourself with unnecessary walking. however, she soon regretting that decision when she saw the dejected look on your face. automatically assumed you thought she had forgotten about her, so she hurried over with a big smile while calling out your name. when you gave back a tiny forced smile, her brows furrowed with confusion. asked you if you were alright, and when you saw the look on her face you instantly spilled your guts. you told her about the people passing by that had taunted you, which made paimon immediately ask what they looked like and claim she would 'kick their butts'. with your reassurance lumine and her companion calmed down enough to realize that you just needed to be reassured. she grabbed your hands and pulled you up from your seat before wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss to your cheek. you hugged her back and placed your face to her neck, basking in her presence to help you calm down. she stood and held you till you pulled away, this time giving her a genuine smile.

"im here now, no one will bother you again."

SHENHE

✧ she doesn’t totally understand the way of humans or how they think yet, but she’s observant enough of you to where she knew something was bothering you. she had been busy all day, but when she finally got the time to come see you, she was immediately worried. she spotted you first while you were completely oblivious to her eyes on you. she saw tears sliding down your cheeks and heard your sniffles. she yearned to comfort you, but she didn’t know if you wanted to be alone at the moment. she mulled it over and decided that she’d take the risk and confront you. when you finally noticed her walking towards you, thanks to her purposefully loud steps, you started wiping your face with the back of your hands. you felt your cheeks heating up, she wasn’t looking at you which meant she already saw you crying and was trying to give you privacy while you composed yourself. that realization brought more tears to your eyes, she was so considerate and the hateful words those people yelled at you echoed in your head. when she finally reached you she slowly lifted her gaze and softly asked you if you were alright and if you wished to talk about it. you didn’t reply and just lunged at her with a hug, trying to drown out your crying in her shoulder. she let you cling to her and let your emotions out before questioning you further. after you sniffed for the last time and rose from her shoulder, she swiped your hair from your face and asked what was wrong. after vaguely telling the story, she had a sharp look in her eyes. didn’t reply and just hugged you again, but later severely went out and dealt with said people herself.

"worry not, i’m always here for you."

GANYU

✧ as someone whos insecure herself, she knows what it looks like. she felt immense worry for you after she saw your expression when she got done with work duties for the day. completely ignored the stares of bystanders as she instantly rushed to you and cupped your cheeks, asking what was the matter. you knew you couldn’t lie to her so you told her the truth. you told her about what a group of citizens said to you, the malice clear in their voices. your eyes averted hers the entire time you spoke, but she kept hers trained on you, her hands not moving from their loving position on your face. once you finished she sighed and shared a similar experience of her own. she shared the negative thoughts she has after people say things about her. gave you a pep talk and some very good advice and then assured you that she loves you the way you are. when she finished your eyes were glossy and you couldn’t help but land a kiss to her lips in a silent thank you. wrapped your arms around her neck and then gave her a speech about how much you adore her and wouldn’t change a single thing. you two ended up an emotional, loving mess and stayed wrapped in each others embrace for a few dragged out moments.

"ive felt what you’re feeling, but i love you for you and nothing will change that."

[redzie02]

Not Just a Dream m.m.

this is my first time ever posting a fic :) there's not much dialogue in here, i'm experimenting a bit. I haven't proof read but i hope y'all like it!!

summary(974 words): Matt is pining for you but you don't even know he exists.

warnings: none

Manuka honey and lavender. That's what he smelled whenever you were near. He searched for it. Craved it. He smelled it in his dreams. And in his dreams is where he feared you would stay. You ran through his mind at times when he needed comfort and a light in the dark, yet you didn’t even know he existed.

Matt had tried to make his presence known to you by holding the door open to the cafe you loved and visited every weekday at eight in the morning. You would thank him and quickly make your way inside to order your favorite drink. To be honest, Matt wasn’t sure if you’d even taken a second to glance his way. He noticed how swiftly and quietly you moved. Like a ghost. Or a dancer. It was almost like you wanted to go unnoticed, undetected by the world around you, but he noticed. He always did.

Matt would focus on your voice whenever you would give your name to the barista. He’d whisper it to himself, repeating it over and over on his walk to work. Why was he so obsessed with this stranger who hadn’t even taken the time to acknowledge him? It almost pained him to think about the idea of you living your days without him. You were his favorite part of his morning routine. He looked forward to those ten minutes in the cafe when you were standing only a few feet away from him, absentmindedly picking at your nails while waiting for your daily dose of caffeine.

There was something about you he desired, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe it was the scent of your shampoo swimming in the air and into his airways. Maybe it was the way every word that fell from your lips was a melodic resonance that danced in circles around him. Or was it your soft, steady breathing that seemed to reel him back to earth before he suffocated in his billowing thoughts?

And now as you both wait for your coffees, Matt stands a couple feet away- as he usually does- trying to gain the courage to finally strike a conversation with you. Matt knows by the smell of your upcoming coffee order that he doesn’t have much time, so he swallows his nerves and makes his way to you.

You feel something tap at your foot and you look down to find the tip of a cane. Your eyes move up the cane, stopping at the faintly scarred hand firmly holding the black leather grip. Your eyes shot up to meet a pair of red tinted glasses when you heard his voice. “Oh,” Matt laughed, running his free hand through his hair. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to bother. Are you okay?” Of course he meant to, but you didn’t know that yet.

You’ve been to this coffee shop countless times and somehow never exchanged words with anyone besides the baristas. The slight change in your routine made you a little nervous, but you were also glad this beautiful stranger was the cause of it. “Y-yeah I’m good…you’re good. I almost didn't notice.” You smiled at him and he mirrored your expression, adjusting his glasses and holding out his hand.

“I’m Matthew, by the way. I’ve, uh, I think I’ve heard your voice around here a couple of times.” You take his hand in yours, shaking it. You notice he has a strong, calloused grip. You give him your name, still not letting go of his hand.

“That’s actually really impressive. I can’t believe you’ve heard me ordering coffee…” You finally let go of Matt’s hand. He wonders if you miss his warmth as much as he misses yours. You do, he just doesn’t know that yet. “Oh man, I feel so bad! I’m always too caught up in my own mind- I never notice what’s going on around me- I- It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.” You gave him a sheepish look, truly apologetic that you hadn’t ever noticed him before. But that’s not what Matt was focused on.

Matt’s heart jumps a little when you say his name. Matthew. You make his name sound like a song. His new favorite song. He’s never loved his name more than at this moment. Matt tries to suppress the smile begging to spread across his face, but he fails, the crinkles by his eyes making an appearance. You basked in the sight of this moment, taking a mental picture and hoping it doesn’t get lost in the files in your mind.

You and Matt continued talking about everything,- work, friends, hobbies, favorite snacks- eventually taking the conversation outside when you both had your drinks in hand. It almost freaked you out just how easy it was to slip into dialogue with Matt and how comfortable you felt with him. You could’ve known Matt a hell of a lot sooner if you’d just looked around once in a while. You mentally swore at yourself.

“Do you happen to know the time, by any chance?” Matt asked, standing barely a foot from you. When did you two get so close?

You check your watch for the time and swear. “Ah shit, it’s almost nine! I’m thirty minutes late to work. Uhh…I gotta go but it was so incredibly lovely to meet you! We should talk more…see you tomorrow then, Matthew?”

“You know where to find me.” Matt smiled at you and stood as you sped walked a few blocks over to your job. He was also incredibly late for work, but he didn’t care. It was worth it. You were worth it. He had a stupid grin on his face the entire walk to his office and the stupid grin never left his face that day. You were more than just a dream now.

[ohmightydevviepuu]

imperfect boys. perfect ploys. (this is a song about tragedy) [4/6]

“My ‘story’ is that I left a fucked-up situation and it kind of fucked me up,” he’d said.  But it was the way he’d said it, like it hadn’t broken him.  Like it was just a fact. But Emma’s life was a story, too.  A fucked-up situation that had kind of fucked her up.  She wasn’t that kid anymore.  Confidence could be learned.  And maybe—maybe—she wasn’t broken, either. Not if she picked up the pieces.  Not if she told herself a new story.  About who she was.  About what she wanted.  Roots, family, friends, a sense of the familiar—these did not have to be fairy tales. “You owe it to yourself,” Mary Margaret said. “Happy endings always start with hope.”

–

S3 post-neverland canon divergence. 20k of no-curse renaissance.

read it on AO3

to @wistfulcynic and @thisonesatellite who sat with me while we daydreamed on a hilltop in cornwall on the summer-iest summer day england has ever seen. it took me eight months but i got there in the end.

thank you to @shireness-says for time and feedback and kindness to the IAS @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @idoltina @initiala @thejollyroger-writer @phiralovesloki for always giving me a cheer when i needed it

--

twelve. 'what the kiss exposed.'

He could have told himself it was an hallucination.

After all, Killian had been three sheets to the wind when he’d seen Pan.  He could easily have imagined the exact combination of deepest sorrow and biggest nightmare conjured by the idea of Neal Cassidy being alive.  Only he knew Pan far too well to tell himself that.  The demon was many things; unfortunately, he was rarely a liar.  Why bother, when the truth was a far more potent weapon?

Thus, and so:  Neal sat at the other end of the cave—doubled over in a cage built for a boy, not a man.  Killan took a deep breath, seeing too late the moment when Emma noticed.  An echo of the same look she’d had when her mother blurted out Neal’s predicament.  The way she’d turned toward him immediately and for the first time Killian had been unsure.  Did she want him to confirm the story? To say that yes, Neal was alive?

Or was she hoping he said no?  That it was just another game?

What kind of man was he?

“I kissed Emma,” Killian said.  He said it to the cave.  To Neal.  To her parents.

To Emma.

It was a game, all right.  But he would play.

“My secret is that I never thought I’d be capable of letting go of my first love.  My Milah.”

Milah had been everything, for so long.  Too long.  Killian knew that now—knew the pain and anger and hate had ossified inside him during his time in Neverland.  He knew it now in a way he never could have before, because he’d left.  Somehow, in doing that, he had started to heal.

He hadn’t meant to.

It was only in coming back to the island that he could see it.

Or maybe it was in coming back with a new goal—save the boy—that clarified things.

Bae’s son.  Milah’s grandson.

Maybe it was the kiss he could still taste on his lips.  Not the first kiss he’d had since he’d lost Milah but surely the first kiss that mattered.  The first kiss that reminded him they could matter.

But villains didn’t get happy endings and all magic came with a price.  Killian had wanted to save Bae, too.  He’d given up his chance then but he could pay the price now and be glad for it, if that’s what it took.  “I never believed that I could find someone else,” he said.  His eyes were on Emma.  Only on Emma.  “Until I met you.”

The walls shook.  The ground shook.  Parts of the path began to materialize but Emma stood stock still, frozen where she stood.  Eyes wide and lips pressed together and face whiter than a sheet, she stood.  She said not a word—though she shuddered bodily as her mother’s confession and then her father’s caused more and more of the pathway to appear until finally it was her turn and she strode, still silent, all the way to the cage.

She still loved him.  Neal.  Killian knew that—had known it from almost the instant they’d met and she’d lied to him.  I’ve never been in love, she’d said, because she wanted it to be true.

Would she admit that—now, here?

Did she have a choice?

The cage surrounding Neal vanished and he hurled himself at Emma, into her open arms.  Together, they stood.  Together, they returned.

“Thank you,” Neal said.  “How—“

“We found your star map,” Killian said, forestalling any additional conversation.  “Can you get us off this island?”

Neal nodded.  “Once we find Henry, I can get us home.”

“Then let’s go get Tinker Bell and retrieve the boy.”  Killian led the way out of the cave with David and Snow close behind him.  Clearly, he was not the only one who had heard too many truths this night.

But then he heard something else.  Something he was probably not meant to hear.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said.

“Don’t be.  Because I have a secret, too, Emma.  I’m never gonna stop fighting for you.  For us.  Never.”

A man who refused to fight for what he wanted deserved what he got.  

But Neal had refused, before.

They both had.  Killian had let Bae go.  He had left the Savior in a cell.

Villains didn’t get happy endings.

So.  What kind of man was he?

thirteen. lunch (iv)

Lunch was fine.

Neal was trying.  Very.  And very hard.  The better part of a week, now, and Emma was starting to wonder how long this would last.  Six days, eleven months, eleven years—or a lifetime.

With Neal, she never knew; all she could do was wait.

She’d loved him.  She loved him.  She really was glad he hadn’t died.  Really.  What she’d said to him in the Echo Cave—well, it had been the truth and she’d said it to save him.

She’d said it to save herself.

And she might not regret it but he sure as shit seemed determined to overcome it, to do better, to Make an Effort.  He’d done everything except apologize.

But then there was this:  Hook and Tink, at the bar.  Emma’s mug was empty because Ruby was back there too, laughing as Hook’s flask went back and forth between the three of them.  Neal was watching—watching Hook—watching Emma watching Hook.

It was the clothes.

He’d changed them.

“You’re not worried about him or something are you?” The tone in Neal’s voice made her wary.  “He’s adaptable.  Obviously.”

“I’m not worried,” Emma said.  “Why would I worry about Captain Hook?”  The coat was gone.  The blazer-style leather jacket was absolutely an improvement, the way the sleek lines flowed over his back and his shoulders, but Emma had so rarely seen him without the coat that it was a shock. 

“You’re not even curious?”

“No,” she said.  “I’ve been kind of busy, Neal.  You know that.  We’re here together every day.  I pick up Henry from school.  We have dinner with my parents on the nights you’re not with your dad and Belle.  Have you even seen him try to talk to me since we’ve been back?”

“No.”  Neal picked up his cup and made a face when it was empty.  “He told me he wouldn’t.”

“What?”  She kept her voice even because she wasn’t surprised.  It hadn’t been scribbled on the rock of a Neverland cave or anything but the fiasco in the Dark Hollow had put the writing on the wall.

“When I talked to him.  You know, about us, and he—” Neal looked up then, his eyes searching for a respite or a refill but Ruby wasn’t there, not today, she was locked behind the bar watching them—the entire diner watching them all over again.  Listening.  

“I’m just wondering why he’s still here, I guess,” Neal said.  “It’s like I said, Em, you have this—this way about you.  It makes people think stuff they shouldn’t.  Believe in stuff they shouldn’t.  Want stuff they shouldn’t.  Makes them want to be a part of something.”

Emma blinked.

And again.

When she could speak she said, “He left me.”  It was the truth—he’d left her in the dungeon.  He’d left her on the docks, too.

But he’d come back.

fourteen. lunch (v)

Lunch was fine—Grilled cheese.  Swish-swish.  Grumpy.  She could do this— but then it wasn’t.  She should have seen it coming.

She should have planned for it.

She was a professional.

But they hadn’t talked about it, her and Neal.  Not about this or about any of the other things.  And definitely no one was saying the ‘m’ word.

Magic.

Regina was at the bar with Tink.  Regina and Tink.  Regina and Tink?  Emma knew enough to know that whatever she’d done to Tink was among the many things Regina didn’t regret.  She also knew it didn’t matter; they’d all gotten home, Tink included.  The Evil Queen and the former fairy were laughing as they talked.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen her in here,” Neal said.

A comment about Neal’s extensive Storybrooke experience died on Emma’s lips only because he was right.  She hadn’t seen Regina in the diner since the queen had pulled them out of the Wishing Well all of those months ago.

Another lifetime.

“What’s she doing here?” Neal said.

“Eating lunch, I guess.”  Emma gestured with her half-eaten grilled cheese.  “We’re supposed to meet up this afternoon.”

“You.  And her?”

Emma shrugged.  “She’s Henry’s mother.”  A thought occurred to her.  “And she’s my grandmother.  Sort of.  I guess.”  Wow, that Thanksgiving dinner would suck.

“And you’re okay with that.”  Neal was incredulous.

“I am.”

“I’m not.”

“Thank goodness you don’t get a say,” Emma said.  “We’re home and together because of her.”

“We’re home because of you.”

“And this is home now?  For you?  You’re staying?”

“My family is here.  Our family is here—”

“—including Regina—”

“And I meant it, Em.  I want to fight for us.”

Emma exhaled.  It was a lot, all of this.  All of these…moments.  She said, “Then we’re not fighting about Regina.”  The noise—the cup as she slammed it down, or maybe the rising pitch of her voice—made half the diner look up.  Including, thank fuck, Regina.  The Evil Queen raised her eyebrow and rolled her eyes and tapped her watch impatiently.

Emma stood.  Carefully.  Slowly.  “I have to go.  Apparently I’m already late for my magic lesson.”

“Your what?”

“Regina is teaching me magic,” Emma said, watching the look on Neal’s face freeze, then vanish.  “We’re meeting up every day to practice and, I don’t know.  Bond.”

“Since when?”

“Since today,” Emma said.  “Forgive me if we needed a couple of days to recover from inter-dimensional travel before figuring out the routine.”

“Do realms count as inter-dimensional travel?  That feels more like a video game thing,” Neal said, and Emma laughed.  Strained.  Forced.

“Ask Henry,” she suggested.  “I’ll see you later.”

Fine.  It was fine.

The bell rang and the door opened as if by magic, but Emma was watching Neal as she tried to walk through and was stopped by six feet of black leather and eyeliner.  The coat was gone, but it was still Captain Hook in front of her:  his uniform, his armor.  The perfect black marks hugging the waterlines of his eyes as he looked at her.

“Whoa.  Beware of lurking pirates.”

He didn’t answer but he did back away as if the impact of their collision had shocked him.

“Miss Swan?” Regina’s voice.  Regina, behind them.  Emma could practically hear the eyebrows accompanying the impatience and the sarcasm.  She looked up; their eyes caught, and held.  His crinkled at the edges with the twitch of his lips.  Hers narrowed as she took him in, top to bottom.

“Miss Swan!”

Hook snapped to attention, holding the door open.  “Your Majesty,” he said.  A gallant bow to accompany the exaggerated drawl.  “Sheriff.”

It was fine.

fifteen. 'i've yet yo see you fail'

I was hoping it meant something.

I believe in good form.

When I win your heart, Emma—and I will win it—it will not be because of any trickery.  It will be because you want me.

I have yet to see you fail.

All of it true.

None of it mattered.

He was a sentimental fool.  And now he was going to die because of it.

Having one’s shadow pulled was not for the faint of heart.  No, not pulled—ripped.  It left no room for thought; not of the past, not for the future.  Bae.  Neal.  Emma.  David.  Liam.  Henry.

There was only agony.

Agony, and failure.

The rest of it only came rushing back as he hit the ground.  Feelings filling in the void left by his failure.

Not hers.  Never hers.  Killian had seen her magic in the Enchanted Forest.  Had seen it repel Cora.  Cora.  And here she couldn’t even light a candle.  Because of them.

He had failed her.  They had failed her—distracted her.  They had put everything in jeopardy.

And the boy.

“We almost lost our shot at capturing the Shadow—and getting the hell out of here—because you two were fighting.  Over a lighter.” 

“It wasn’t the lighter we were fighting over, love,” Killian said.  It came out more defensive than he would have liked.  Less like the apology it should have been.  He was angry—everything he had said, everything that had passed between them—they had kissed.  And it had meant something.

He was sure of it.  

What meant something was that you told us Neal was alive.  That’s what she’d said.  And he’d chosen his friend, just as she had chosen Henry.  The anger faded.  Her only focus right now should be the boy.  Every moment here was another one in danger.  Every moment here was another chance for Pan.  A new game.  With new rules.

Peter Pan never failed.

But neither did Emma Swan, and Killian was tired of playing Pan’s games.  The mission—that was what mattered; finding Henry and getting him home.  That was why he had steered his ship back to Storybrooke in the first place.  Why he had given the heroes the bean and welcomed the Dark One and the Evil Queen and Prince-bloody-Charming on his ship, not because Emma Swan had asked him to but because Baelfire couldn’t.

If Killian was a man of honor, then he needed to honor that first.  No more games.  They would get the boy and get off this rock.  They would find a way.  That’s what heroes did.

Then—and only then—could the fun begin.

sixteen. magic lessons

White smoke.

A tiny curl—not even a puff, and certainly not a poof—but white smoke.   A lit candle.  The power sang beneath her skin.  The flame danced in time with her heartbeat.  Such a simple thing, to light a candle, but every nerve ending in her fingers tingled as she breathed in and out.  

“Hmm,” Regina said.  A noise more than a word.  Emma didn’t like the curve of her eyebrows as she said it, the furrow of the brow.  She didn’t like what came next, either:  “Do it again.”

“But—“ Emma gestured, emphatically, at the smoke.  So what if it was already fading?  The candle still danced when she moved.  “I did it!  And it wasn’t an accident, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Good.  Then do it again.”

Deep breath.  She had signed up for this.  Eyes closed, she reached for the flame, curling her hand around its heat, dimming it until it went out.  Flicked her wrist and focused—

“Miss Swan.”

White smoke.  Again.  Emma turned to Regina.  “I hate it when you call me that.”

“Again.”

“What?”

“Do it again.”

“Come on, that was pretty good!  Are you going to tell me that wasn’t—”

“No.  It was.  I’m sure it will be even better when you do it again.  Miss Swan.”

Steady, even breathing.  Focus.  She breathed in and out, her temper flaring but in check, her anger as fleeting as the smoke.  As she reached for the candle the only thing she felt was magic.  Magic, and rightness.

The flame flickered.  Regina was smiling, if it could be called a smile when her lips were pressed that closely together and her expression was that smug.  No, it wasn’t a smile.  “What’s with the—” Emma waved a hand in the air between them, mimicking Regina’s expression.  The flame flickered with her movement but did not go out.

“I could ask the same of you.”

Emma blinked.  “Huh?  What do you mean?”

“What is going on with you?”

“…nothing?” Emma winced; that had been nearly as convincing as Regina’s smile.

“You forget that I know magic—”

“As if you would ever let me,” Emma muttered.

“—and, as much as I’d rather not, I know you.  Miss Swan.  In Neverland, you were anxious.  Distracted.”

“Distracted?  Our son had been kidnapped by a fucking demon and his army of Lost Boys!”  The flame brightened.

“All the more reason to concentrate, don’t you think?  Magic is about emotion.  Magic is about focusing that emotion.  But you weren’t.  You could barely make smoke, and you could not light a candle to save your life.”

Emma swallowed.  That was—accurate.  “What are you saying, Regina?  Don’t be gentle.  It’s not like you.”

“Something’s happened.  Something’s changed.  The proof is right there.”  She pointed at the candle.  “You’re focused.  Determined.  You’re calm, Emma.  And I just want to make sure that, after everything, you’re not here wasting my time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“We both know what your precious Neal thinks when it comes to magic,” Regina said.  “He’s terrified of it.  What are you going to say when he tells you to quit?  When he tells you not to trust me?  When he says that he doesn’t trust you, not with this?”

“He’s not my anything,” Emma said, bristling.

“Every day you parade him through that diner with the Charmings hovering in the background, waiting to announce the betrothal—”

The flame exploded, a miniature shower of sparks and black smoke.

“Hmmm.”  The not-smile was back.  “Now fix it.”

Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket.  She pulled it out—just a text—and exhaled.  Slowly.  Breathing under control.  Because she could.  She could fix it.  She would—“Listen.”  

Regina’s face flashed white but it wasn’t anger.  And then before Emma could blink it was gone as if it had never existed.  

She shoved the phone back into the pocket and said “About Neal—”

Then she stopped.  Regina was right.  They knew each other, whether they wanted to or not.  They were family, whether they wanted it or not.  And what Emma wanted more than almost anything was for that word to mean something.  Something, anything, that would make their fucked-up family tree matter beyond the tangled backstory of a fairy tale—a choice, not an obligation.

So before she said another word Emma squared her shoulders and held her hand out.  The candle flared, shuddering in its soft dance.

“Neal is afraid of his father,” Regina said.  “But let me assure you, Miss Swan, that whatever he thinks of his father, I’ve seen all of it and worse.  I’ve survived all of it.  And worse.”

Emma didn’t say a word.  She didn’t move, or breathe; even the candle stilled.

“I will not allow your deadbeat Lost Boy to turn my son against me, or my magic.  And I don’t think you will, either.  Emma.”  Their eyes met over the flame and they watched as it dimmed.  

The phone rang, and they jumped.  Both of them.  And the time for confidences was over, snuffed—with the flame—in a puff of smoke.

David was calling.  “Dad?”

“Emma.  I need you down at the station.”

“What?  Why?”

“Neal’s here.”  David paused.  “He says he doesn’t know where Henry is.”

“Fuck.”  Emma sighed; David didn’t say anything but the stench of parental disapproval nearly made the phone vibrate.  “Fudge.”

“Just get over here, okay?”  The call ended.  The candle started smoking.  Emma was a professional.  Emma had a plan.  And in that moment, Emma had only one thought in her head as she focused:  Enough.

Poof.

She was gone.  And in her wake was a trail of white smoke.

[irenadel]

Small Graces

Mitzi x Mordecai The animated short took over my brain and re-ignited the hots I have for Mordecai. Filthy porn ahead, beware. I'm not brave enough to make this furry. Everyone is a human here. Pre-canon. Lackadaisy glory days when Atlas was still alive. Some mild spoilers for the last couple of comics, so read at your own risk.

Part I

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Unprofessionalism notwithstanding, Mordecai abhorred falling asleep in his clothes. It was liable to wrinkle them and require his pants be sent to the dry cleaners yet again this week. At least someone (he earnestly hoped it had been himself, he shuddered at the thought of strange hands touching his feet) had had the sense to take his shoes off and neatly drape his bloodied jacket and vest over one of the apartment’s plush chairs.

And there was the small matter of keeping a lookout for anyone seeking revenge for the recent bloodshed on his boss’s estranged wife.

He supposed it had been the steady ticking of the clock which had lulled him into sleep. On difficult nights he always slept with a pocket watch close to his ear… But his was most certainly still securely tucked into the pocket of his vest, and he didn’t see a clock anywhere in Mrs. May’s Bohemian though, he begrudgingly accepted, tidy bedroom. It wasn’t a clock. Ah. The high sweet keys of a piano emerged from his cottony, still half-unconscious perception (it had been a lot of blood loss, he wouldn’t have volunteered for lookout duty if Viktor hadn’t been in a sorrier state than he was). A metronome. He should have known, though somehow hadn’t expected it from Mrs. May’s self-admittedly hodgepodge musical education.

There’d been a man in the tenement building Mordecai grew up in who had fixed and tuned pianos for a living. Sometimes when he was working, he would use the metronome for some unknowable purpose. Mordecai had always liked the sound.

He let it draw him out of sleep now. Let it provide him with an excuse not to bother, or be bothered, by the lady of the house. It was still dark out, still dangerous, though the hint of a slowly graying sky promised him a ready reprieve. Soon he could be back home, change into fresh clothes, and never have to think about having had to intrude into a married woman’s private chambers. Nevermind that this married woman should have been in her husband’s home, not in some dingy apartment where Mordecai had to keep a lookout for her. He couldn’t pretend to understand what happened in a normal marriage, let alone one with any sort of turbulence to it.

The steady tick of the metronome, the accompanying slow, high notes of the piano let him tune out the distracting reality of the room, let him focus on his post at the window. He would not think of the confounding Mrs. Atlas May. He would not think of her vanity behind him, or the brush disgustingly full as he supposed it was with human hair. The whiff of perfume and cosmetics. The slept in unmade bed or any dirty clothes that–

But the bed was made. It had not been so when he arrived, when he’d woken up its occupant in the middle of the night. And someone had cleaned her vanity, down to putting her brush and combs away… The same someone who had draped his bloodied clothes upon the back of a chair, maybe taken his shoes off when he had curled up in the window sill… the same person who could have fallen asleep again but had chosen to stay up and occupy herself with something outside the bedroom, giving him space…

He’d known Mrs. May a long time. He’d known she was smarter than she let on, more perceptive… He hadn’t realized she was also kind.

“Would you like some coffee, sweetheart?”

He’d nearly jumped out of his skin, had certainly scrambled off his perch in the window sill. He hadn’t heard the piano stop because the metronome was still going.

“Thank you, Mrs. May, but not presentl–”

He’d turned to at least acknowledge her presence and was jarred into full alertness by the sight of Atlas May’s wife in nothing more than a nightgown and a robe. He averted his gaze immediately, brushing past her on his way out the door, unable to keep from shuddering at the extraneous, unexpected contact.

“I’ll just give you a minute.”

He fled into her little parlor for safety, finding himself drawn to the still ticking metronome. A good enough excuse to keep his back to her and allow her the grace of an inconspicuous exit.

“Sugar, you can give me ten or twenty minutes,” she drawled, still leaning on her bedroom’s door frame. “I’m still not putting on any clothes before the sun is out. You’ll just have to make your peace with it, honey.”

She gave him no time for further discomfort, sitting herself back down on the piano’s bench and resuming her practice. He was frozen in place, unable and unwilling to cede her the territory she had just gained. He should go back to his post at the window, pretend none of this had taken place and hope it would not be mentioned to any of their mutual acquaintances.

She didn’t play the same high, melancholy melody as before, but a set of scales. Somehow, that was better. Somehow, the repetitive, rising and decreasing nature of it soothed him. He wouldn’t look at her but still he felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders and found himself suddenly aware of how exhausted he was. It had been a long night.

“You can sit down, sweetheart, you don’t have to stand at attention”

He glared at her, not dignifying her comment with an answer but still not finding in himself the energy to move back to the window.

“… if it makes you so miserable, I can dispense with the babysitter, Mordecai.”

He tried not to roll his eyes at her. “Mrs. May, your husband made it clear—“

The piano stopped with a sudden, dissonant twang. “What my husband wants is no longer my concern.”

The venom in her voice embarrassed him. This whole situation was simply intolerable. He wanted to cringe back from it and suddenly the thought that all her small kindnesses, her attire and her proximity may have been an attempt to involve him in some kind of petty revenge against Atlas… it was too much. Spite could be so tiresome.

“How ever much I appreciate your courtesy Mrs. May, I wish to play no part in your marital strife.”

She stared at him, half dumbfounded, half immeasurably wounded. He was not prone to sentimentality but somehow her big green eyes (beautiful, he’d often heard the boss comment what beautiful eyes his wife had, personally he was indifferent to them) made him fidget.

“Mordecai sweetheart,” she said tiredly, closing the piano’s fallboard over the keys. “I know it must be hard to understand, but not everything a married woman does is about her husband.”

There was a certain exhausted defiance in the way she looked at him that made him uncomfortable. His mother had looked like that at times after his father had passed away. It made his cheeks burn with a guilty sort of flush.

Atlas is still alive, he wanted to say, don’t look at me like that, Mrs. May.

But he said nothing, just returned her tired gaze with a bewildered one of his own and watched her silently give up. She made to get up from the piano, one hand reaching for the metronome to stop its steady ticking and he panicked. He didn’t want her to go back to her bedroom, disrobe even further and sleep in the bed he would have to be near if he went back to his lookout spot. Out of options to detain her further, he did the one thing he could think of: he acquiesced to her request and sat down on the bench beside her.

There was a certain satisfaction in seeing those usually languid, knowing eyes widen in surprise, and his stomach did a flip at the hint of a smile dancing on Mrs. May’s unmade but still very rosy lips. She flipped the fallboard back back up and started her scales again. Mordecai let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

Up close, she didn’t smell like cosmetics as she usually would have, no slight sheen of sweat as he had always known her to have, from her exertions on the stage or the dance floor. Had she bathed too, while he slept? For his benefit? He forced himself not to squirm on the bench, suddenly aware of the bare, warm flesh beneath her thin nightgown and robe. He should not have sat down. For all her skimpy costumes back in her stage days, Mordecai had never personally been so close to a woman in such a state of undress. It made him nauseous, made his skin itch, made him…

She’d stopped playing.

“Mordecai honey,” she said tentatively. “Do you need a minute?”

For a second he didn’t understand what she meant. Then he became aware of the rapidly forming bulge beneath his silk pants.

He clambered off the bench, against the piano’s keys, their frantic, offkey protest mirroring his own frantic, strenuous desire to flee. He would have, if she had tried to touch him, would have ran if Mrs. May hadn’t left her seat on the bench and taken a slow, deliberate step back.

“Darling, it’s alright,” she’d said softly, so kindly it made him even more anxious. He wanted to blame her for this. Her and her uncharacteristic concessions to his innumerable peculiarities, so often points of contention or mockery. He wondered if she had planned this. Would have found it easier to retreat in a fury if she had. He wondered how she could have undone him so thoroughly, how she could’ve known, as she seemed to have guessed everything else, that nothing but the scent of her clean skin and talcum (no perfume, no artifice) could have left him in this dizzy, pitiful state of arousal…

But she didn’t seem to know what to do anymore than he did.

He could see her make up her mind in real time. Felt his whole body thrum with anticipation the moment she stepped into his space. It must be the blood loss or the drugs still swimming in his veins that kept him frozen in place. He must still be under the influence, woozy from adrenaline, or he would have never allowed this, never considered this. Would have never let her get so close. So close he could feel the heat of her body beneath her nightgown. So close he marveled that it was not enough.

“Mrs. May—“

“Honey, if you call me ‘Mrs. May’ again while we’re doing this, I’ll scream.”

She didn’t scream though. And for a short, panicky second Mordecai was afraid she would try to kiss him. Mrs. Ma– Mitzi did not. Did she know he could not stand it if she tried to kiss him? Even when she threw one arm around his neck, running her nails up his scalp in a way that made him forget about propriety, promises or even the wrinkles sure to form on his pants, all she did was lay her forehead against his while he panted madly, waiting, hoping, aching… Her other hand found the front buttons below his belt, deftly undoing them before snaking inside. Did she know he could not take anything else? All the secret, lewd things he’d heard others whisper about, the ones that had seemed too full of fluids and other people’s filth, the ones he’d scoffed at  (wondered at)... did she know this was the only one he could stand? He looked at her pleadingly, not recognizing himself, so desperate he was almost ready to tell her she could try to put her lips on him, anything, anything at all to quench this needy, wanton fire on his skin.

Her hand was enough. Wrapping around his penis, firmly, hotly pulling at him. He’d only done this to himself a couple of times during the first desperate pangs of adolescence. It shouldn’t have surprised him how much better it would feel when someone else did it for him. It shouldn’t have surprised him how much more skilled she was at it. He was mortified at the whimper that escaped him, his glasses fogging with a sweat he suddenly could not care less about. Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips almost a smile, as she stroked him again and again, good God, to the rhythm of the metronome.

“Mitzi,” he keened desperately and heard her throaty, low chuckle before he saw the first real smile he had seen all evening break out on her face.

She must know, surely she must know how good it was, how crazy it drove him to have this done to him properly. He bared his teeth, letting his head hang back, keeping his hips still out of sheer stubbornness. He would not interrupt her blissfully rhythmic strokes. He’d surrendered any protests he could have. She knew better, knew him better than he knew himself. Knew he would prefer the chaffing to any improvised lubrication. Knew the only kind he could allow was what she could gather from the weeping tip of his erection, with her sharp little nails, running down his length again and again, again and again, all to the steady ticking of the metronome behind him. He was swimming in that even, predictable tick, tick, tick. Swimming in the heat at the pit of his stomach, in the sweet smell of her skin and her lady’s talcum, mysterious and alien and clean. Balls tight, nipples tingling, his skin so hot and needy he felt it would crawl off him any minute now, any second…

“Mordecai sweetheart,” he heard her one more time, searing lips against his neck. “Come for me.”

He hadn’t known the words would make a difference. They did. He screwed his eyes shut, hands braced against the piano and felt his balls empty themselves in her hand, his hips lost at last, pumping of their own accord against her. He, for once in his life, utterly heedless of the mess he was making, while choking on her name, Mitzi, Mitzi, Mitzi, like a prayer.

When he came back to himself, Mordecai realized she was panting against his throat too, her other hand still firmly cradling his neck, whole body draped across his own heaving one. The wound on his shoulder throbbed dully, and for a moment he was at a loss before this overwhelming, bounteous humanity in the form of Mitzi May, still in her nightgown, one hand covered in the shameful, evidence of his transgression. For a moment he felt like he could heave.

He felt like a fool when she used her clean hand to extricate a handkerchief from somewhere – the lady in her had thought of the handkerchief, the ballroom bawd had thought to stock it even into her undergarments – and used it to clean him up so thoroughly and expertly he was left dumbfounded. Deeply, heartbreakingly grateful. Almost ashamed of his brief, furtive revulsion.

“Thank you,” he managed, pathetically sincere.

Mitzi smiled at him again, something watery hiding behind her large doe eyes, which he could, at last, admit were beautiful beyond measure.

“Thank you,” she countered. “I needed that.”

Mordecai didn’t know if it was the haze of orgasm, danger or gratitude, but he touched her of his own accord then. He reached for her face and felt nauseously delighted when she leaned into his hand. He did not know if he would ever understand his sex’s fascination with beautiful women… but he understood this much. He felt reckless with the knowledge, almost drunk on it. He felt generous but afraid, suddenly, that whatever this was, would evaporate as morning dew…

When Mitzi made to go dispose of her soiled handkerchief he grabbed her wrist with sudden, forceful intent. It felt delicate, birdlike under his hands, capable as they were, of such brutality. He felt a thrill in that new awareness of her fragility, compounded by her still racing pulse and the lingering warmth of their exertions on the thin skin stretched over her veins. Reckless, heedless of consequences or even his own inclinations, he pulled her closer grabbing two ample handfuls of her hips and buttocks. He risked his forehead against her stomach and was exhilarated both at his persistent desire to touch her and her clean, handkerchief-free hand on his hair, carding fingers through the mess they had made of it. Together.

“Take a bath,” he’d risked the order, looking up at her from his seat on the piano’s edge. He was glad she bit her full unpainted lip, seemingly pleased, instead of cutting him down with a condescending “sweetie” or an icy glare. His heart was hammering at his daring. “I’ll meet you in your bed.” 

[tenkasato]

HI!!! so I have been reading your akashi FF!! i love all of them makes me burst with so much more love for him!! I am asking for something i have not read yet of akashi ff and hoping you could do it for me!! I am a major akashi ff finder and still have not find this kinda of theme! So i really want an akashi werewolf x human reader or maybe hybrid akashi x reader!! I know im asking a hard one but i really really wish to read akashi being different LOVE you so much thank you ten!!!

Let me start by saying how much this request challenged my imaginations because I find it a fresh and exciting concept to write! It fits Akashi so well. I had so many ideas on how to write this. I even had thoughts of changing the setting to an 18th century scenario. But enough blabber for now. I’ll write the rest of my ramble at the end of this post. Thank you so much for reading my Akashi fics! I appreciate you so much!!! Your words mean so much to me. Hope you enjoy this ride! ^^

Enigma

Scenario: You always knew something horrifying hid beyond the polished exterior he always had.

Pairing: Hybrid/Werewolf!Akashi Seijuro x reader

You’ve known Akashi Seijuro since you were old enough to read.

He was an enigma, like an untouchable being who seemed to have been created with different materials that usually made man. Even as a child, he was pristine. His face was always sculpted to perfect expressions, his speech always playing along pleasant ribbons that slides into your senses. 

You, as a child, were enamoured. 

It was no lie that you’ve fallen for him. You didn’t know when it started, but you thought what matters is what you realized in the process of developing these feelings. 

Your heart sputters and coughs when he smiles. Your skin tingles with his touch, innocent as they are always. When you hear his voice, you hear only music. You want to wrap yourself around the fullness of his kindness like a cloak.

However, you knew you'd have fallen for him for entirely different reasons. Reasons that are unknown to you, especially.

In all these musings, you hadn’t thought he’d also eventually fall in love with you.

Suddenly, you hear your name being called.

Before you can turn, you feel an arm snake around your waist. Akashi Seijuro kisses like someone who’s after your very soul, beyond the beating muscle in your chest. It always starts out soft, like a caress of a feather. Then, it deepens. He sucks you dry and desperately craving for more. He kisses with adoration, intermingled with hunger, enmeshed with respect for you as a person and as his lover.

You loved that about him. Dignified. Compassionate.

“Did the soup I cooked for you make you hungry?” you laugh once he releases you. 

He pretends to think about it as you step sideways so that you’re now walking beside him. You link arms just as he replies, "I'd say it was rather salty this time."

You gasp, shocked he'd say something offensive about your craft. You were groomed by your father to be the next main chef of the Akashi household. Least to say, your skills in cooking are second to none. Even his own father says so. 

"You should know, Seijuro-san, that I made your favorite soup precisely the same way I usually do, down to the finest grain of salt.”

He shrugs from your arm and pulls you closer instead.

"I'm joking," he whispers to your mouth. Akashi guides you into his room, footsteps hurried yet measured until you're swallowed by the darkness.

He doesn't bother to turn the lamp on. But none of you need a shred of light when you both knew his room by heart—the curtains that flutter as the doors close, the corners of the maple coffee table you could bump to on your way to the bed, the velvety texture of the carpets as you kick off your shoes. 

Akashi's bed always smelled of fresh linen. Sometimes you wished your co-workers hadn't changed it that often. You want to savor his scent, even though you revel in it every time he holds you close like this.

"You're busy today," you comment with a sigh as he kisses your collarbone. 

He smiles, his hand slivering under your shirt to your spine, arching your back. "I'm sorry. There are deadlines coming. Even Father is getting restless nowadays."

"I miss it when we used to just spend the whole day making cookies," you say. "You've always been a busy bee even when you were in middle school. But at least we're able to hang out more often than before."

Akashi senses the shift in your tone, the longing turning down its inflections, the unsaid words he can find in the way you stare into his eyes. His smile drops a little. It becomes solemn. You lean forward to kiss the growing frown away.

Akashi Seijuro is perfect. A gem you could find no flaws in, smooth and brilliant. And most people, if not all, would've been drawn by this to him; after all, you've witnessed throughout the years how he's naturally able to draw them to him because of the qualities he possesses. 

You're different. 

Maybe it's because you practically grew up in the Akashi Manor, watched him turn from a boy to a man and tasted the delicacy reserved in his lips for you. 

You knew him intimately, but you knew he had something else hidden in the layers of corrugated paint coating him. You knew that whatever it is, it's the very thing you fell for.

"I wish you could stay here tonight," he murmurs once your mouths part, you still on top of him, his arms caged around you as they always are by the end of each make out session. 

"Why can't I?" you try, more of out curiosity rather than dismay. "If you tell me to stay, I'll stay."

He places his hands on your cheeks and prompts you to lift your chin up. You regret it. The crimson of his eyes immediately drowns you in flames. 

Mesmerized, you unconsciously reach out to his face to thumb his bottom lip.

"If you stay, I won't be able to keep myself from taking you here." The bared desire in his low voice send chils to crawl under your skin, through your sinews into your bones. 

There.

Right there, you knew you were right. And you made it a point to find out what it is no matter how monstrous or horrid it could be. The unbridled need to know wrings your neck. 

You studied his actions, his nonverbal cues, mannerisms, rise and fall of his voice, his expressions. You searched him between the lines. You drank in every new detail about Akashi Seijuro in mad obsession. It doesn't come across as odd to anyone else in the mansion. They knew you shared a close relationship with the young master.

But after the gruelling months of searching, you come out with nothing.

One afternoon, you flicker your gaze to Akashi, the warm sun tinting his red hair a deep shade of amber. 

Akashi notices your stare and flashes you a smile. 

You start to wonder, as you interlock your fingers together, what exactly are you looking for? What is he hiding?

A weakness no one knows? Cowardice he keeps away? A hidden scar no one's seen? A deep desire? Or maybe, a family secret?

Akashi misinterprets your silence. His hold on your hand tightens, prompting you to snap out of the trance you're in. The concern in his eyes is unmistakable. 

"How are you this beautiful?" you ask to derail him, a wry smile on your lips. 

"I can ask you the same thing," he shoots back.

Laughter bubbles in your gut as you shake your head and pry your hand from his. "This is why I don't believe it when your friends say you don't have a sense of humor. You're hilarious."

Akashi obviously finds that amusing because he lets out a rare laughter as well. So pure. Too pure. Your heart pricks and shrivels.

That night, you decide not to go into his room. You tell him you are going somewhere tomorrow so you want to rest earlier. Akashi doesn't mind, of course. Your nightly bonds are always interrupted with your own personal affairs. It isn’t unusual. 

The sound of grass crunching under your bare feet fills your ears. The night sky is overcast with clouds, covering the only sources of light in a thick blanket. The garden behind the manor is riddled with all sorts of plants, unkempt and flourishing in their own habitat. It's the only part of the Akashi residence that looks untamed—a stark contrast to the opalescent immaculateness of the rest of the mansion. 

You loved gathering your thoughts in quiet places, but the garden has always unnerved you. You steered clear of it, until tonight that is. 

You couldn't have gotten the most perfect timing. 

That's when you see it, or rather him. He's enveloped in the darkness that engulfs his entirety. A hulking figure completely merged within the shadows of the night and the tendrils of the wild plants. 

You gasp, not able to keep the excitement and dread from filling your throat. The sound catches his attention. He snaps and lunges after your frozen form. 

Your body hits the soil. Looking up in a mad frenzy, you finally see the creature pinning you to the ground. 

A strangled noise garbles your voice.

Face perfectly sculpted. Expressions sharp as a knife. Hair blood-red in the night. Eyes flashing cold, gleaming gold looking down upon you with repugnance and animalistic desire. 

Who is this?

You're paralyzed in unadulterated fear.

"Se-Seijuro-san—," you begin to beg but you're interrupted when he presses his lips to yours hard enough to bruise. A kiss. Liberated from reason, spiteful and also lust-driven. 

So unlike the one’s you’ve always received.

Your stomach churn as he swipes his tongue over your lips, heartbeat quickening when he nibbles at the skin over your pulse.

"Afraid now, are we?" he hums, tone taking a deranged ebb. 

You want to scream, to let out the bile building up in your throat, to claw at the hand now wrapped around your throat. You found what you were looking for—the beast that mercilessly shatters through the glass-like mask Akashi had always worn. 

You raise a hand to shove him, but he catches your wrist and pins it above your head. When you meet his uncompromising stare once more, you see him for who he is, unearthed, unshackled.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he whispers. 

Every muscle, every fiber of your body goes fraught at his voice as a whimper tears out from your throat. Genuine thrill, however, tingles your spine and tangles them into knots. You need to know more about him.

With a nod, you concede. Akashi nips at your jawline before carrying you in his arms. 

The last thing you remember about that night was his smile, one that you didn't know to whom it belonged to anymore.

Taglist: @shakethatsassyass @the-chronicles-of-a-bookworm @thesongstressayre

So… I feel like this has been cut short. Yes, there might be a part 2 *hides in the back*. This was actually inspired by the novel “Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde” where in Hyde the repressed id counterpart of the ‘original’ identity, Jekyll. Is Akashi here a werewolf? Or is he something else? For now, I’d like to leave it to the readers to imagine. The other Akashi reader met in the end hasn’t revealed anything yet after all. Please share me your thoughts! Thank you for making it this far! ^^

Another sidenote: I love dark, gothic themes. I feel a bit rusty after not having written much in my element for a while, but I hope I was able to deliver ^^

[mortumslab]

Remembering to be Human - Chapter 9

One of my favorite chapters so far! Hope you enjoy it!

(I really wanted to post it, so here's a double-chapter day.)

And chapter 8:

Julia isn’t outside the containment room when you leave. The guard tells you she went upstairs a few minutes before you. You ride the elevator in a daze. Psychopathor knowing your identity doesn’t bode well, but you know Kurt Moran is a lot smarter than he ever lets on. His bloodlust gets him listed as a common monster, but he is one of Los Diabolos’ longest-running villains.

And Psychopathor is a much more well-connected monster than he lets on. You suspected the Directive’s initiative to take him down was spurred as much by his threat as it was by the Rat King. Your partner-in-crime had always seemed like a familiar creation, but until now it wasn’t clear. You are both natives of the Farm. This means that the Psychopathor’s information is invaluable. He knows about the connections you’ve been chasing.

The elevator dings and you follow the hallways back to the main break room. Steel is seated in a chair, browsing his phone. Drinking a protein shake. He looks up and nods towards Julia’s private office. The one that she claims is off the record. 

Knocking on the door you only hear muffled noises. A wet-sounding “Come in,” and you open the door. 

Julia is at her desk. She’s playing the televised funeral for you and Anathema. She rewinds it and then watches herself assault Vernon Brown. Then again. Tears coat her eyes. She doesn’t even bother to dab them. The file below her shows splotches. The file. Your autopsy. You can’t read her mind, but you know she hates herself for her stupid actions seven years ago. And maybe a year ago, you would have, too. But now all you have is compassion. Love for this woman. Love that you’re not sure how to express. You’ve never had this choice. You’ve never been given this option. There’s no one to mimic. 

So you do what Julia would do for you. You cross the room, and you throw your arms around her neck and straddle her. Face to face. The chair groans in protest, but your slender form fits nicely. You don’t usually take the initiative. But you’ve already broken all of your rules. Maybe those weren’t your rules. 

The sudden closeness seems to have startled her out of her crying, but she buries her face against your jacket. Muffling her voice in a cute way.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You couldn’t have known.” She couldn’t. You know she would have gone through hell, moved earth and sea to find you. Had she known you could be alive.

“I didn’t even let the poor bastard speak. He said something about there being a plot, and then I just hit him.” She sobs into your shoulder. You rub her back. Cooing like she did for you. “I was drunk. Again.”

Kissing her forehead, you hold her tighter. You know she’s drawing the same conclusions. She thinks she could have stopped you. Stopped all this. There’s no way she could have. The Farm would never have let you go. You were their tool. A really powerful, useful tool. 

“I could have saved you.” There it is. “I was never fast enough.” 

What? You look at her. Your head tilts in confusion.

“I reached for you. When you jumped. I was too slow.” Ah. You didn’t know that.

“You did?” Now you’re tearing up. Damn this woman for breaking every measure of your facade. Gone are the days of Sidestep’s stoicism. She may be the only one who can truly save you from whatever the Farm has planned. What they have planned for you. Because they’re not done with you yet.

“Of course I did!” She’s not angry at you, but the outburst shakes her from her sobs. She lifts you like a toddler and sets you on the desk in front of her. She starts to pace the room. “I… I dream about it every night. A nightmare. Either me falling or you. Never anything else. Except for the last few nights. I didn’t have that nightmare. Instead, I had a new one. One where you die because you lose yourself.” She might be yelling at you, but she’s angry with everything. Everyone. Herself. You. Society. 

You don’t know what to say. You can’t go back now. There’s too much at stake. You have to break the Farm. Destabilize. Destroy. Rebuild. How do you tell a woman who cares so much for you that you might have to die for a cause that’s larger than both of you?

“Julia, I… I can’t promise I’ll survive this. But I do know that what I’m doing… if I survive… we can live happier when it’s done. Together.” You’ve never thought or talked about a future with her. The developments this week have been too many. Too fast. But now is as good a time as any.

“We?” She sounds weak. Tired. Showing her age. Not the impervious Charge. The scared, broken Julia Ortega. The one who likely died the moment you did. Two ghosts, trying to find their former selves. Locked in purgatory. 

“We.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. When you look up again, she’s in front of you. Holding your hands in hers. “I need to do this. And it will require me to be dangerous. To take on enemies who could easily destroy me.” There’s no question, but she understands. At least one of you can read the other’s mind.

“Arya, I will never let you go again. Just let me fight by your side. If we go down, we go together.” She means it. And you can’t help it. You kiss her. Hard. You love her. And you’re still not sure how to say it.

Breaking the kiss, you whisper, “I wish I had known. Any of it. I would have come to you. I would have found you the moment I escaped the Farm. They…” But Julia quiets you with another kiss. Salty with the taste of tears. Someone’s tears. 

You hold each other for what feels like hours. Then, Julia lets go. Ready to move. 

“What did Psychopathor tell you after I left? 

You laugh. You’d almost forgotten in the time since. “He knows I’m Heartbreak.” 

Julia whips around, “What?” 

“Two things I figured out. First, it wasn’t hard to put together, from his perspective. The Rat King is telepathic. He’s a Farm experiment. Like me. Psychopathor is psi-sensitive, but not telepathic. And it’s not exactly like I was subtle with my name. Plus I resurfaced. You all put it together, too.” You pause and gather yourself. Calm. “Second, it means his information is good. Heartbreak is likely still alive. Or some version of her.”

“What does this mean, then? Who do we need to interrogate next?”

“I need to drop off these files for the D.A.” You have pretty hard evidence that there is collusion between San Francisco and Los Diabolos’ kingpins and the Mayor. “Then I need to interrogate Alvarez to figure out what she knows. I don’t think it’ll be much more than what Koch knew, but it’s worth a try.”

“Do you want my help?” She really, really wants to help.

“I could use an audience. Especially some time to monologue.” You smile. She loves drama.

“I can do that,” she takes your hand, kisses it gently, and then leads you from the office. 

Downstairs, the rest of the Rangers are milling around. Argent is watching a movie. Danny is reading a book and Steel is seated with his eyes closed. Napping? Probably not. 

Julia clears her throat, “Angie, could you—“

Argent flicks her hand and all four cameras in the break room power down. 

“Okay, thank you.” Julia sounds bemused.

“I’m going to go confront the mayor. With the information from Koch and Psychopathor, I will try and spread some doubt. Sow some chaos.” You say it with such seriousness that it almost sounds funny. Arya. The rabble-rouser.

“What do you need from us?” Danny shoots to his feet. His willingness to break the system is curious. You gently probe his mind. It’s a veritable mess of incongruities. Danny’s entire worldview has shattered. And he’s not even upset at you anymore.

“Someone to chase me off. I’ll confront the mayor and rough up some bodyguards. Then come in for clean up.” 

“Alright. We can do that.” Steel gets to his feet. “By the way, Blaze has found some further connections between the syndicates and the mayor. You might want to take this to the D.A. as well.” 

“Thank him for me. I hope he’s not working tomorrow?” 

“Not that I know of. But I don’t keep close tabs on him.” Slight awkwardness in Chen’s mind, but he’s always hard to read.

“Good. Then I’ll be off.” Nodding at each and at the back of Argent’s head. She makes a rude gesture, then follows it up with a wave.

Julia accompanies you into the elevator. She’s unusually quiet. The soothing buzz of her mind is becoming more and more like a soft blanket rather than a reminder of the Farm. 

“What’s up?” You break the silence.

“I hope we survive this.”

“Me too.” You smile at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She goes a touch pink. Difficult to identify on her bronze skin.

The doors open to the lobby. And then she pulls you into a kiss. Deep. Loving. Then she shoves you through the open elevator. You whirl around in time to catch a blown kiss as the doors close once more.

Idiot. Loveable idiot.

That Evening.

Confronting the mayor will be an all-day affair. Not to mention, you’ve already gotten into a fight today. Tonight, you’re participating in your favorite part of crime and villainy: robbing criminals. A wholly cathartic release of aggression. You get some money. Some money ends up in a Los Diabolos charity. Everyone wins. Except for Overlord. Overlord never wins. 

A low-level telepath, Overlord uses crudely performed manipulation to garner capital. If your telepathy is a precision scalpel wielded by the world’s greatest surgeon, Overlord’s telepathy is a comically large mallet wielded by a toddler. However, it works sometimes. And you’ve left him alone for the time being - but now he’s terrorizing citizens.

Are you a hero? No. You aren’t. Heroes don’t brutalize others. Vigilantes might. But your wrath ignores borders. Ignores labels. What society calls them is moot. Your judgment is swift and painful. Leaving broken bodies in its wake. And you’ve been looking forward to letting go. 

You count ten henchmen. Each is wielding some low-class mod. And Overlord himself has telepathic elements that won’t work on you. You’re a god amongst telepaths. 

Ego. Where has this come from? Julia?

You shake your head. Clearing thoughts of Julia. You need to be Heartbreak tonight. Your HUD marked the henchmen as they entered the warehouse. Using the telepathy boost in your suit, you pinpoint each in their respective positions. Time to do this. Loud. 

In a cliche show of force - one Heartbreak is known for, according to the fan sites - you retrofitted the surrounding buildings with nano-speakers. The collective reverberations of the little devices somehow produce sound in a way even your tech-oriented brain doesn’t understand. Thankfully, Mortum does. So, it’s time to play an anthem. True villain style.

As you click play on the playlist, you both see and feel the henchmen below and Overlord freeze. Panic suffuses them. Heartbreak descends.

The first three Henchmen go down before they’re even aware the threat is in the building. Your body weight and shattered glass incapacitated the first, and your kick sent the second over the railing, where he landed with a crunch on a shipping crate. Still alive, the Rat King informs you. The third runs at you and in a true Heartbreak fashion, your first punch lays him out. The next several leave him barely alive. Barely is good enough for you. 

Grappling a rafter, you swing into the next group. These four seem to be equipped with a mixture of boosts and mods. It hardly matters to you. Your high spinning kick sends the first flying into and through several wooden crates. You suspect boosts of durability and density made that the spectacle it was. The next two run at you together. Smart. They’re both outfitted with ranged mods. The first run and guns and the second goes for melee. You catch the fist and use his momentum to swing him into the incoming projectiles. It hardly does any damage, but the scream you hear as he ragdolls into a storage unit does. It even leaves a dent. You don’t hear the panicked yells of his allies because you’re laughing. Laughing because this feels good. Because Sidestep could never do this. Because this week has been out of your control. Here. Here, you are conducting the symphony of chaos. 

The final goon in this squad goes down with a solid crunch. His nose is severely broken, but you’re not finished. Oh, no, you’re enjoying this. You grab his arm and twist. The resounding crack and muffled scream send shivers down your back. 

Three goons left, then the man of the hour. Thankfully, you don’t have to look for them. They were gracious enough to come to you. The two henchmen, who appear to be more durable than the others, run at you… then you see red. Because these two can handle it. You don’t hear the screams. The music. Your own heartbeat. Heartbreak. The scourge of Los Diabolos.

You blink. Your armored fists drip with blood and viscera. The two below you moan in pained agony. Their faces aren’t really recognizable. You like it that way. You left them alive; that’s all they deserve.

Overlord wears a mask. But his mind is reeling. Horror. Fear. Of you. 

“Good evening!” You sound chipper. Your modulator makes you sound slightly manic. Maybe you are.

“Kneel.” His pathetic attempt at telepathy. You break into laughter. Belly laughter. Only something Julia could get out of you. No, stop. Don’t think about her right now. Your mind reels from two versions of you. Arya and her weakness. Heartbreak and her cruelty. And for a moment it feels like you might crack. Then, the Rat King manages to soothe you. Chittering brings you back to your senses.

It all happens in the course of a moment, but Overlord seems to believe his telepathy worked. Your hesitation emboldened him. Wrong move.

In a flash, your hand is at his throat. Your enhanced strength lifts him far off the ground. Your height is always an advantage. 

For a moment you want to kill him. Only a moment. But you simply throw an elbow. Then he falls unconscious to the ground. 

“Rosie, I need a truck. We’ve got a nice haul. And maybe call in some favors for shipping. I think there’s some good stuff in here.” 

With the music off now, you can hear the glorious cacophony of pained groans. The ten henchmen lay in various states of disrepair. Some of them will likely be on respirators for months. It feels good. This is what happens when the Farm fucks around. They’re going to find out soon. You’ll show them.

“Holy shit, boss.” Lost in thought, you don’t notice Rosie approaching. Focus. 

“Needed to get some frustrations out.” You say nonchalantly. You didn’t even take a single hit. The bullet that caught your helm never left a mark.

Rosie knocks on the van, and your crew gets out and starts to load cash from the warehouse. A motley crew of trusted deplorables. People who were properly vetted and have never taken a life. Perfect for acts of retribution. They look at the assorted mess with pained expressions. Few of them have seen your handiwork. Usually, you work alone. Or with Rosie.

Then you hear the sounds of sirens. Good. Press.

“Get out of here and meet me back at base.” You say to Rosie. She nods and ushers the crew back to the van. It’s out of the building and trailing down the road before the LDPD arrives. 

A media helicopter hovers around 100 yards up. And the LDPD roll into view.

“Please exit the building with your hands up.” Oh? They don’t know who did this. Time to enlighten them once more.

Using the speakers in the vicinity, your voice booms.

“Officers! It is I, Heartbreak. Allow me to lead you to ten henchmen who you will find all have rap sheets longer than my own. And you’ll find a fellow villain, Overlord. The money he has so graciously donated to me will be dispersed to charities, as per usual.” You know the anonymity from your last donation was for naught. Might as well lean into it.

“Heartbreak, please exit the premises. The Rangers are on their way.” A bullhorn. Classic.

You exit the building but using telepathic bursts, those with guns drop them as though they were scalding hot. Perception is reality.

“I shall bid you all goodnight.”

Then, you drop a smoke pellet. The tear gas sends the officers running in the opposite direction. You misdirect the attention of those in the media chopper and dash back through the building. You find the motorcycle you arrived on, stashed behind a tree, and head towards the road. A successful venture.

The news is, of course, reporting on your escapades. You pull it up visor on your HUD. Carefully navigating through evening traffic, you listen to the report.

“Heartbreak once again leaves another villain begging for rescue. The masked villain claims to donate portions of their income to Los Diabolos charities. Something we will be checking into.”

Of course, they only ever care about the money. This city runs on greed.

“According to the LDPD, Heartbreak left ten known boosted mercenaries with severe injuries. No casualties, per Heartbreak’s usual performance.” 

You’re glad your no-kill policy is known. It helps spread the message. Though tonight’s theme was rage. 

“Then the villain left Overlord unconscious, absconding with what appears to be well into the millions in unmarked bills.”

The report continues, and you ignore it until…

“We have Charge and Marshal Steel here, who arrived on the scene moments after Heartbreak’s escape. Marshal Steel, what are you going to do about Heartbreak?”

Steel looks annoyed to be out this time of night.

“We have been closely following Heartbreak. Their base of operations is still unknown, as is their identity and capabilities.” He didn’t answer the question. Good man.

“Charge, do you feel as though Heartbreak’s actions here tonight are those of a villain?”

You glance up. Julia’s eyes look conflicted. She probably doesn’t know how to feel about the violence. 

“For now, we are treating Heartbreak as a threat. That is all I can say for now.”

You flick the broadcast off. Your penthouse comes into view.

Going up to your bedroom, you strip off the nanomesh. You’ll deal with the payment to the crew and charity tomorrow. For now, you need a good shower and time to think.

The water is warm. Nice. You don’t like the schism that happened out tonight. You don’t usually lose your head. Especially not as Heartbreak. And you thought you had figured out who you were, but thinking about Julia in the field was almost enough to break you. Break you how? It wasn’t a panic attack. It was more like something wanted out. Like you lost control of a caged beast. The beast wasn’t you. But it was inside you. It is inside you. Might be something to bring up with Julia. You should start trusting her more. She deserves it. You’re worried she may be shaken by your show of brutality tonight—

Noise. Someone’s in your penthouse.

“Arya?” 

Deep breath. It’s just Julia.

“In the shower.” You’re unsuccessful in hiding the panic. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She appears in the bathroom door.

“It’s alright. Long night, a bit wired still.”

“So, tonight. That was new.” Oh, she wants to do this now. 

“Can I get out of the shower first?” You don’t wait for an answer. You shut off the shower and step out. Julia hands you your towel. You shiver slightly. More in anxiety than in cold. She notices.

She steps forward and hugs you. Kissing your wet ear. 

“You put ten men in the hospital. One of them is in the ICU. He’ll make it.” You don’t know why she’s telling you this. Your height puts you just slightly above her, but in her arms, you feel safer. Your posture slumps.

“Are you asking a question?” Your voice muffled with your face buried in her shoulder.

“I’m worried. About you.” She kisses the top of your head. “Heartbreak is known for that level of violence, but just seeing the carnage… and knowing who’s underneath.” The thought left unsaid. “There’s footage of the fight. The cameras in the building were on.” 

You didn’t know that. Your theatrics are usually for yourself. Rumors make you a legend. Rumors drive Heartbreak’s creed. Destabilizing the status quo.

“Oh.” 

“I watched it on the way over. You used music.” Humor in her voice. You relax slightly in her embrace. “And you annihilated those mercs.” 

“I learned from the best.”

She leads you from the bathroom. Watching as you get dressed. Pulling on a bra and shorts. Comfortable in your skin. At least with Julia watching.

“I didn’t teach you that.” She doesn’t sound upset. Still worried.

“I learned a few tricks.” With a sigh, you curl up on the bed. Cradling a pillow. It smells like Julia. 

She comes over to sit beside you. Rubbing your back. Your silvery hair is a wet mess. You’ll need to manage that before trying to sleep. If Julia stays the night, you might not need to use Eden. But otherwise, you’re not letting the nightmares get you. Not yet.

“Did you lose yourself?” She asks quietly.

“I am Heartbreak. Heartbreak is that extension of me that lets me do hard things. Things neither Arya nor Sidestep could do.” You don’t know where you’re going with this, but you suspect it’ll end in tears. You always cry around her.

She’s silent, waiting for you to continue.

“I thought about you. I don’t know if you saw when Overlord tried to use his shitty excuse for telepathy on me.” You see her smile. 

“I did; you looked like you were confused for a moment.”

A deep, calming breath. You feel the tears. “I was. But not because of him. Because I thought about you. My mind… it felt like it was going to fracture. Like I couldn’t reconcile what I was doing with me. With who… with Arya.” And the tears. 

“Oh, mi amor.” She leans over and cradles you, pulling you onto her lap. Your weight is nothing to her enhanced strength. 

You’re sobbing freely now. And only when you feel her starting to braid your hair do you start to regulate yourself again. 

“I hate existing.” Simple, the truth. Ugly. Still true.

Julia freezes for a moment. But recovers, still braiding.

“Is that why you pick large battles? Unfavorable odds?”

“Yes.” 

“You want to die?”

“I want the pain to end. The anger. The suffering. I hurt so badly.” Julia unlocks your fears. You want to be good enough for her. Confessing everything. Maybe it’s not fair. You’re a burden. 

“You’re not a burden.” Did you say that out loud? “I just don’t know how to help. And I’m not going to let you kill yourself. Indirectly or otherwise.” 

“So what? What do I do?”

“Finish what you started. And let me help this time.” You look up at her with bleary eyes. Your hair braided the way you like it. You didn’t even need to tell her.

“You have been helping. You’re helping right now.” 

“But you’re only letting me help after the fact. And I love being able to. You don’t know how many years I’ve dreamed of being able to do this. To cuddle you.”

“You’re too perfect. Too good for me.” You vocalize it this time. 

“No, I’m exactly what you deserve. Right now, you’re the mess. I’m sure I’ll be one soon enough.” She strokes your back. You’d fall asleep if you weren’t— “I heard that grumble. Good thing I brought you some food.” 

You ought to get used to being literally swept from your feet. Or from your fetal position, in this case. Yet you squeak when she plucks you from the bed. Clinging on for dear life you let her set you in a barstool in the kitchen.

She moves to the countertop and slides you two cartons. Chinese. The same place you both went when you were Sidestep. Looking at her with gratefulness that can’t be put into words, you devour the food. You were never very well-mannered when it came to eating. Julia seems to think it endearing. 

“Will you let me help, then?” 

“I’m not sure how.” You finally surface for a breath. “Or what you can do. I’m a villain. You’re not.”

“What if I become one?” You choke a bit on a noodle.

“What?” 

“I can wear a costume. A mask.” She’s serious.

“I…okay…I can figure something out. Mortum might be able to make you something. What about the Rangers?” 

“I can do both. I have no desire to keep working for this government. You being alive is enough. Enough to convince me. Enough for me.”

“I love you, Julia.” The only thing you can say.

“Let’s get you to bed. We can plan our villainy tomorrow.”

You sleep well. Curled in her arms once more. You might let yourself get used to this. Maybe.