#let the thoughts in my head consume us all

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.

warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!

It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.

However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.

The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.

“Hi”

“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.

I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.

Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.

She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.

“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.

“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”

“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”

“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like… fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”

I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?

“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”

I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:

“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”

I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”

I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.

“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”

She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.

I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.

There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.

Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.

On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.

Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.

“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”

She looked around with a slight smile.

“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”

“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”

She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.

“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”

She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.

I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.

“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.

I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”

But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.

After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.

Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.

I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.

She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.

We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.

She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.

The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.

My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.

By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”

“Of course.”

My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.

I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”

Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.

He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.

“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.

Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”

“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”

“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”

Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.

“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”

My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”

Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.

“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”

She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”

My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.

“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.

“That makes sense.”

Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.

She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.

She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.

“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.

Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.

“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.

“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.

She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.

“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.

She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.

“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”

Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”

I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?

It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.

The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.

I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.

“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.

“Did you throw up?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”

“I can take a cab.”

“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”

She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.

When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.

It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.

It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.

The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?

“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”

“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.

She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.

The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.

She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”

Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”

A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.

“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.

I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.

Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.

She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.

In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.

The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.

I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”

I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.

“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”

“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”

Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.

Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.

Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.

“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”

For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.

Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.

She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.

Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.

“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”

“No”

“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”

I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:

“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”

Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.

When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

“Did that clear your doubts?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.

“Then stop overthinking”

The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?

But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.

The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.

I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.

It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.

Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.

"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.

"Tell me”

"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."

"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"

Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.

Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.

Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.

Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.

Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.

I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.

My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.

Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?

I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.

“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”

“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”

Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.

I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.

“Take me to bed, please.”

He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.

Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?

Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.

Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.

I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.

"Sorry, I..."

“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.

"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.

"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that."

I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.

"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."

“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”

Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.

"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.

"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”

"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."

Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.

As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.

I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.

Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.

I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.

Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.

"Busy?"

I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.

“I guess you found what we need, right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”

“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”

A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.

“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”

He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.

At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.

“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.

I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.

We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.

I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.

“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.

I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.

Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.

My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.

“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.

I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.

My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.

“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.

“Your wish is my command”

He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.

I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.

At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.

He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.

I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.

He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”

“I'm speechless.”

I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.

We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.

“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”

I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.

When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.

“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”

“Yes, of course I want”

He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.

One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

“Do you want me to get you some socks?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”

“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”

“So you’re like a human blanket”

“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”

I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.

“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”

From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.

“I like you a lot”

“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.

@spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @shuichiakainx @gghostwriter @cafters @weallhaveadestiny @your-left-sock @jaeminsmilk @tmrs-basilisk @kristennotstewart @lostinwonderland314 @f4tpo3s @lortheswiftie @dark-unicorn222 @samsienichole @blackholegladiator @gretaandthatsit @cherrysprlte @halfbloodwriter @piercethefic @reidingandallthat @ariel-23-19 @zorrasucia @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @juluina @kylakins88 @tinainaction @sadroses98 @dumbbunnys-safes @bowerfeithwk @freyafriggafrey

Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)

[alexi-was-not-here]

Hey everyone... I saw the other reblogs and the were beautiful and I love them and you should go show them love and support BUT this story has been floating in my head and I would like to write my version {which will be extremely similar to the others BUT I love Janus and would like him to not be the bad guy... so think of this of an au of this hc I guess}

-----

Thomas had just woken up, which meant it was time for Virgil to go help Thomas make it through the day. Virgil left his room and began to make his way downstairs when all of a sudden he heard a yell, he turned towards the noise and saw a shocked formal looking side.

"Uh h-" Virgil went to greet him before he was cut off by a different voice

"Who. Are. You?" Said a side who looked like they were closet cosplaying every Disney prince combined, who was dawning a samurai sword strangely enough.

"I- I'm anxiety" Virgil responded nervously

"Why the hell are you here, Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" Virgil felt taken aback, he's a bit nervous to talk back considering the sword, but he's supposed to be there just as much as the rest of them, right?

"I- b-but-" Virgil is trying to get a sentence out but his mind is racing and his throat is starting to close.

"But what? Spit it out or," The "prince" 's grip tightens on the sword he's holding, though he stands his ground infront of two other sides, the one with a cardigan around his neck grips Roman's jacket, "get lost."

Virgil tried to get any words out of throat but instead all he got was his own racing thoughts and stinging behind his eyes. He walks back up the stairs and hears the other sides breathe a breath of relief and return to their happy banter they were having before he walked in. Virgil collapsed on his bed and finally he let muffled sobs escape his chest. He wasn't trying to scare anyone, he just- he was helpful right? Maybe he wasn't helpful after all, just like he had feared. Maybe he truly was there to cause distress. He fell asleep crying.

---

Time and time again he tried going downstairs but he would go back up to his room after being berated by the Prince guy, or freaking out the light blue side, or getting nervous and watchful glares from the formal side. He eventually stopped trying to help the three of them as he mostly seemed to be an annoyance, and favoring staying in his room instead and allowing his thoughts to consume him.

The only time he was able to not be a nuisance to the other sides was at night when Thomas was about to fall asleep, it was the only time he was able to talk to him. Though, he did occasionally get thrown out when Princey couldn't sleep either.

One thing Virgil enjoyed doing though, was sitting at the top of the stairs and eavesdrop on athe three other side who he found out were Morality, Logic, and Creativity. He enjoyed listening to them talk, and pretending that they talked to him too.

---

One day when Virgil was listening to Logic explain something he found intresting he was pulled out his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice.

"Hey, you seem cool. You wanna come hang out with us?" Virgil turned to see a side dressed similarly to Creativity except he seems to like black and green, bent over towards Virgil {a little too close} with a wide grin on his face.

"U-us?" Virgil asked confused considering he only saw green creativity{?}.

"Hello" Virgil heard a voice from the shadows {Totally not creepy} and a yellow gloved hand wave to him.

"Oh oh by the way, I'm creativity" Also Creativity said as he stood up straight and extended his hand to Virgil. "So what do you say wanna come with us?" Virgil glanced down at Logic remembering how apprehensive he was around him, at Morality who was so scared he would hide behind Princey and hold his jacket, and finally at Princey who when they first met had told him "Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" and those words still haunted him everytime he closed his eyes.

And then he looked at Creativity who said he was cool and seem eager to get to know him, and the not-at-all-creepy shadow figure in the hallway who smiled at him too, and he took Creativity's hand.

"I'm anxiety"

"Ooooo, well anxiety do you like Dance Dance Revolution?"

-------

It had been several months since Virgil decided to follow Creativity into their hangout. He learned that this Creativity's name is Remus and is essentially thoughts doesn't want to have, and while he never learned the other sides name, he did tell Virgil he has the role of Deceit though.

Living with them especially Remus had been... stressful to say the least but it was also the first time he felt wanted and, Deceit had even told him how cool it was he was anxiety and that Thomas is lucky to have him.

Unfortunately though despite all this he wanted so desperately to go back to the other sides. He was tired of being ignored and thanks to his time with "The Dark Sides" {it's what Remus called them} he had learned not to take crap. And it was time that Thomas finally heard him.

So, he went back to his room upstairs away from Deceit and Remus in the middle of the night, knowing he'd be able to talk to Thomas unbothered.

And he went downstairs in the morning, and didn't leave even after the groans or fears exclamations, and Princey didn't seem to be as eager with his sword so he stuck around. And FINALLY the sides would listen to him, even if they didn't particularly always like what he was saying.

--

Thanks for reading everyone!! I will make a part two if there is demand for it but I think I closed it up pretty okay :}

Angst idea

During Thomas’ preteen years everytime Virgil got near Patton or Logan, Roman would stand between them and draw his sword. They were a lot younger then and they didn’t understand each other like they do now. Anxiety scared them all even though he was just trying to help in his own way, partially because of the way he went about it, partially cause no one wants to be anxious and they were kids.

Logan would always tell Roman he was being excessive but he would screech Roman’s name if Anxiety was there and Roman wasn’t.

Patton always told Roman not to be mean when he started insulting Anxiety, but he did cower behind the creative side while he did it.

Virgil would put on a tough guy act “You think I’m scared of a sword Princey?” and he was, but more than that it hurt to watch the rest of Thomas hating him so much.

[smilesatdawnmain]

Taken Reverse Au (Wukong's Rage)

Since I’m taking my sweet time to get to this Moment in Taken- here, you can have an example for Taken Reverse~

——

There had been a split in the mountain. 

A split that had twisted the land and left it in shambles, spurred by the rage on a single individual. 

“Dad-” MK choked, struggling to keep his arm around his Father’s bicep, his feet digging into the floor below. He was dragged, leaning back a tad in hopes to give some leverage to stopping his father. “Dad, wait!” 

The King would hear no protest. Not when he knew. Not when he NOW knew. 

A confirmation with the Diyu, an admission from the man he considered his Brother, and he now knew. 

He did not have one son, but two. 

Twins. 

One of his cubs was at his side, feebly trying to stop him as he stormed into the sewers of Megopolis, his eyes a burning red. His cub. To know that there had been another this whole time, and held in the hands of- of Spiders. 

His eyes were aglow as he entered the sewers, the stench of decay and waste assaulting his nostrils. But the King paid it no mind. His focus was singular, his rage all-consuming.

"Dad, please!" MK pleaded again, his voice echoing off the damp walls. "You're not thinking straight!"

The King’s steps formed small cracks with each step. Not thinking straight? He’d never seen clearer in his life! MK’s brother—his twin—had been kept from them. From him! By those... those arachnids! By the damned Spider Queen!

Of course she knew! She must have! Nezha had-

God’s, his brother had confessed when Wukong pressed about it. In tears and on his knees he bowed before him, face against the ground. He admitted to his crimes.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..!”

Wukong thought he was joking- a cruel and unfunny hole, until Nezha whimpered “There is a reason your son is always getting sick with no cause or explanation.”

It was twisted.

It was unlike Nezha.

Stealing his own child with the intent to kill, but being unable to go through with it, leaving him to the care of humans. That alone was enough to make Wukong’s legs tremble and his stomach lurch. It hurt.

Gods it hurt!

He did not kill Nezha where he stood. Somehow he stilled his hand. Somehow he stepped back, less he scream or cry, or do both.

But he couldn’t linger there another moment longer. Such feelings he would have to deal with later. He had to focus on what was infront of him.

His second child.

Nezha had lost track of the child, he explained. The glamor he had put on the cub to keep him safe in disguise had broken- and the child was lost to his senses until years later, when he emerged as the right hand of the Spider Queen.

Seeing how she was using his energies to power her army- he knew he had to take action. Knew it wouldn’t be long before Heaven realized too and would get to the cub long before Wukong could.

Spider Queen.

She had been using him. Manipulating him to steal for her. Do wrong for her. He had rushed home to let his Mate know, but Mihou was out at the time. He sent a clone to fetch his mate, but had found MK instead.

His Son was clutching the very enblem of the woman who had stolen from them.

When he demanded why MK had such a thing, he explained about his friend.

Xiaozhizhu.

That was the child’s name. Little Spider.

MK had seemed unaware, only stilling when his Father’s expression grew darker. The grounds around them shook from his unkempt rage- cracking until it spit right below their feet. Wukong had never had to reel in such rage in his life, and had ultimately failed to keep it in check before he was charging to the City, MK hot on his tail in a panicked confusion.

Terrified that somehow Xiaozhizhu had angered his Father to the point he was heading right there. “Dad-! He isn’t a bad person, I promise!” No, not at all! He was going down the wrong path, yes, but he could turn around! He was sweet and smart! Fun!

Lonely…

MK had been so close lately to convincing XiaoXiao to even join him on some heroing. To give it a try and see that there was so much good he could do with his powers! He had even been getting along better with Red Son and Mei- Who had agreed to try due to their friendship with MK.

MK also had been working on getting Xiaoxiao to visit the mountain soon- to see some Monkey heritage. Since the guy had never really even talked to other demon monkey’s before, MK had hoped this could help him reconnect with his roots- whatever those were.

The King's pace quickened, his footsteps echoing louder through the dank tunnels. MK stumbled, nearly losing his grip on his father's arm.

"Dad, please listen! Xiaoxiao isn't—" he paled as the tunnels began to change, shifting from sewers systems to a metal lined opened cave system. The Spider Queen’s domain. Spiders, small and creepy were scurrying off the walls at the sight of the two Monkeys.

MK shrieked, clinging to his Father now to keep pace with him. He hated Spiders!

The King's nostrils flared as the scent grew stronger. His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of his lost son. It stunk of the Spider Queen in here.

"Show yourselves!" he growled, his voice reverberating off the metal walls. The King pressed on, his feet leaving scorched imprints on the floor. From the shadows, alarmed at the intruder, large Spider demons were dropping to the floor, their eyes gleaming green.

Despite their barred fangs and sharpened claws, their hands trembled. Never had they expected for the Monkey King himself to wander in unannounced. His eyes flared at the sight of them, a few recoiling. One, who MK recognized aa the Huntsman, growled back.

"You dare trespass in our domain, Monkey King?" the Huntsman snarled, his eight eyes narrowing. "Leave now, or face the consequences!"

The King's response was a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the lair. Several of the spider demons scurried back, the Huntsman even stumbling. His eyes were wide, petrified.

MK's eyes darted between his father and the spiders, his heart racing. "Dad, please-“ he tried to smile, struggling, “We can talk about this.”

But the King was beyond reason. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind was surging through the area, his eyes golden and gleaming. The spider demons recoiled further, their bravado crumbling in the face of the Monkey King's unbridled fury.

"Where is he…?" The King's words were slow, deliberate, each syllable dripping with barely contained rage.

The Huntsman, despite his fear, stood his ground. "We don't know what you're talking about, Monkey King. Whoever you seek is not here—"

"LIAR!" The Monkey King's roar shook the cavern, causing loose rocks to rain down from above. MK ducked his head, leaning against his Father to avoid such things. The King’s tail easily lifted above his child’s skull, blocking any debris from grazing him. MK had never-

He was wheezing, staring at the chaos in quiet shock. He had read the books, heard the stories, but his Dad was- he was the Monkey King yes, but perhaps it was only know that he truly realize- He was the Monkey King.

The Huntsman was scurrying back, “I-I swear, I don’t-” he felt his life flashing before his eyes when the King stepped closer. A shadow over his expression, looking more beast then man or monkey. MK had let go of his arm then, standing limply behind him.

There was no strength in his fingers against such- such power.

As the Monkey King advanced, the air crackled with energy. The metal walls began to warp and bend under the pressure of his power. The spider demons cowered, their legs trembling beneath them.

"Dad..." MK's voice was barely a whisper, lost in the cacophony of his father's rage.

Suddenly, a new voice cut through the chaos. "What's going on here?"

All eyes turned to the source, many relieved to see their glorious Queen. Her hair was down, dressed in the comfortability of a silken robe.

“Our Queen!” the spiders chorused, rushing to hide behind her. She gave them a small frown, wishing her minions were just a tad more useful.

The Spider Queen's eyes narrowed as she took in the scene before her. The Monkey King, radiating power and fury, his son cowering behind him, and her minions trembling in fear. She straightened her posture, chin held high as she addressed the intruder.

"Well well well. Sun Wukong in the flesh," she said, her voice cool and collected. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this... unexpected visit?"

The Monkey King's eyes flashed dangerously. "You know why I'm here," he said coldly, taking a step towards her. The metal floor beneath his feet groaned.

The Spider Queen's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She batted her eyes lashes with the ease of someone who had nothing to fear. "I'm afraid I don't, dear Monkey King. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

"My son," Wukong snarled, his voice reverberating through the cavern. "The child you stole from me. Where is he?"

For a moment, surprise flickered across the Spider Queen's face, quickly replaced by a mask of indifference. "Your son? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. The only monkey child I know of that is yours is the one cowering behind you right now.” she gestured a finger to him. MK flinched at her gesture, his stomach dropping. His mind was reeling.

Son?

What was his Father talking about? The Spider Queen's words hung in the air, heavy with implications. MK's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of information. His father's rage, the mention of a stolen child, and now this denial from the Spider Queen—it was all too much to process.

"Don't play games with me, Princess," Wukong growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“I am all for a good game, as you know, but this is not one of those times.” she walked around him, her steps measured, “The only child here that I could think of- is my own. MY little prince,” she touched her chest, a tad possessive in her tone.

The Monkey King's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Your prince?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "You dare claim him as your own?"

The Spider Queen's smirk only widened. "Of course I do. He IS mine. I raised him, nurtured him, named him. He is mine in every way that matters."

MK's eyes widened. Xiaoxiao-?

No… No wait wait, that didn’t make sense. What were these two talking about. Xiaozhizhu was a monkey yes but he- he wasn’t…

He was the spitting image of his Baba.

His eyes, his smile-

MK felt sick suddenly, teetering to keep upright.

Xiaoxiao was his other half. Why was that? Why did he have this connection to a Monkey he had no blood relation to? Unless… there was a relation?

The Monkey King's fury reached a fever pitch. The metal walls of the cavern began to groan and buckle under the pressure of his power. "You lie!" he roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the lair. "He is my son, my blood! You had no right to take him!"

The Spider Queen's composure faltered for a moment, her eyes darting to the trembling walls. She took a step back, her voice losing some of its earlier confidence. "I... I didn't take anyone, Monkey King. The child came to me, lost and alone.” a fire sparked in her eyes. Of course, when the glamor had been removed from his neck to reveal his true self- it took only a single examination of his soul by a trusted Doctor to trace the power back to one “Liu’er Mihou”.

The mate of Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. It took very little to piece it together. Though, even after all these years, the Spider Queen had yet to understand why things were this way.

Why the child was abandoned.

Why the King would toss away his heir.

When she realized he had another, one far more powerful and physically capable then Xiaozhizhu, she could only assume they kept the strong and tossed away the weak. A weak link she would gladly take as her own for future profit.

Only now did she consider something else far beyond her control had occurred during this all. A third party at work. Not that it mattered.

The Monkey King's eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and rage. "Lost and alone?" he snarled, his voice cracking slightly. "Because he was taken from us!"

MK's head was spinning. The implications of what he was hearing were staggering. Xiaoxiao... his friend, the boy he'd been trying so hard to steer towards a better path... was his brother? His twin?

The Spider Queen's eyes narrowed, "Taken? I was under the impression he was... discarded." She sneered.

Wukong lunged for her. She quickly ducked to the right, grimacing as he tore the wall behind her asunder.

The Spider Queen's words held in the air, heavy and poisonous. MK felt his breath catch in his throat, his eyes darting between his father and the arachnid monarch.

"Discarded?" Wukong's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried more venom than any shout. "You dare suggest I would abandon my own child?!"

The Spider Queen's eyes narrowed, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "Then explain, Monkey King, why your son was alone, lost, and without any trace of your protection when I found him." she stood, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘I am the one who nursed him to health when he fell ill. I am the one who he clung to when he took his first steps. That child knows nothing but these walls.” she gave a little tilt of her head. "I am his everything.” she held her arms out. “And you? You are nothing to that boy. And sugar~” she smirked, “He’s been quite useful.”

The Monkey King's fury reached a new height, his golden eyes blazing with an otherworldly light. The very air around him crackled with energy, causing the spider demons to cower further back.

"You..." Wukong's voice crackling with venom. "You took advantage of my son's vulnerability. You twisted him, used him for your own gain. You KNEW he was mine and you used that!"

The Spider Queen's smirk sharpened. "I gave him purpose, direction. Something you clearly failed to do."

“Watch your words!” he stepped closer.

“Or what?” she challenged. “You don’t seem to get it, do you? Do you?” she sneered. That child was her little Prince, her greatest thief, and her greatest assets for more than one reason.

To him, the “Monkey King’ was a stranger. Anything he even dared to do- it would not be met with understanding like one of his own kin.

And she was going to use this kid for every drop he was worth. His essence already powered so much of her machines. Even if he lacked in the power his Father had, it was more than enough.

He was so similar to his Baba after all.

Blindly loyal. And horribly naive.

A silly boy… but still her’s. And she wasn’t just hanging him over.

The Monkey King's eyes flashed dangerously, his fists clenched at his sides. "You underestimate the bond between father and son," he growled. "No matter what lies you've fed him, blood calls to blood. He will know me."

The Spider Queen laughed, a cold, mocking sound that echoed through the cavern. "Oh, you poor, deluded monkey. Do you really think he'll welcome you with open arms? No~ He’s Mine now.” she spat at his feet, “And you are never getting him back.”

The Monkey King's rage exploded. With a primal roar, he lunged at the Spider Queen, his fist connecting with the metal wall where her head had been a split second before. The impact sent shockwaves through the entire lair, causing chunks of debris to rain down from above.

She grunted, spinning to the side and zipping into the air using a web. As the area delved in chaos, MK screamed.

"Dad, stop! Please!" He cried out, his voice barely audible over the chaos. This wasn’t the way to do this!! But his father was beyond reason, consumed by a fury unlike anything MK had ever witnessed.

Wukong was right on her heels. The Spider Queen's eyes widened in alarm as she realized the true extent of the Monkey King's power. She swung frantically from web to web, barely staying ahead of his furious attacks. The lair shook violently with each missed blow, metal twisting and crumpling like paper.

"Where is he?!" Wukong roared, his voice echoing through the caverns. "Tell me where my son is!"

MK watched in horror as his father tore through the lair, leaving destruction in his wake. The spider demons scattered in panic, fleeing deeper into the tunnels.

There were sparks of gold- the King moving faster then most eyes could follow. In an eruption of sparks he and the Queen were slamming against the ground, his hand wrapped around her throat.

The Spider Queen gasped for air, her eyes wide with genuine fear as the Monkey King's grip tightened around her throat. The metal floor beneath them buckled and warped, creating a crater around their impact point.

"I'll ask you one last time," Wukong growled, his voice low and dangerous, his other hand reeled back to deliver a final blow, "Where. Is. My. Son?"

The Queen clawed at his hand, her voice barely a whisper. "I... don't... know..." That wasn’t a lie. He was out at the moment. The child had been disappearing on a whim more and more- of course at the most inopportune times.

“Not good enough!” The King- The Monster, tightened his grip, feeling bones threatening to give way below him.

He would have crushed her throat had it not been for a piercing shriek behind him. His boy, MK, was pleading, "Dad, stop!" MK screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. "You're going to kill her!"

The Monkey King froze, his fist mere inches from the Spider Queen's face. For a moment, the only sound in the cavern was the Queen's ragged breathing and the distant echo of falling debris.

Slowly, Wukong turned his head to look at his son. MK stood there, tears streaming down his face, his body trembling. "Please, Dad," he whispered, "This isn't you. This isn't right." he couldn’t recognize this man in front of him. Where was his Father at? Where had his hero gone? Who was this that he was looking in the eye right now?

The Monkey King's eyes flickered, a hint of recognition breaking through the haze of rage. His grip on the Spider Queen's throat loosened slightly, but he didn't release her entirely.

"Xiaotian..." he breathed, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

MK took a tentative step forward, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture. "Dad, I know you're hurting. I know you're angry. But this... this isn't the way." He swallowed hard, fighting back more tears. "What would Baba say if he saw you like this?"

What would Mihou say?

Would he be right here with him, ready to end this woman’s life, or would he be uncaring for such poultry demons? Would his entire focus be on just finding their lost child- while avoiding traumatizing their little star?

The Monkey King's grip loosened further, his eyes losing some of their dangerous glow. The mention of his mate seemed to pierce through the fog of rage, bringing him back to himself. He looked down at the Spider Queen, still gasping for air beneath him, then back at MK's tear-streaked face.

"Xiaotian," Wukong said again, his voice softer now, tinted with regret. Opening his mouth to say more, a strange sensation came to his hand- a sharp sucking sensation, loosening his grip to the Spider Queen.

He whipped back to her, finding her form dropping into the very ground below. His eyes were wide, knowing such a trick anywhere. How could he not?

The shadows….

Was his Moon here? Had his clone found Mihou and drawn his mate here?

It was enough questions for him to hesitate long enough for the portal to close and the Queen to be gone from his judgement.

The shadows yes… but something was different about. Frowning and confused, he heard MK

“Xiaoxiao-” he was choking.

Wukong turned sharply back to his son, but the boy was not looking at him anymore. His tear stained face was angled at the side tunnel, wide.

Wukong followed MK's gaze to the side tunnel, his heart skipping a beat. There, partially hidden in the shadows, stood a young monkey demon. His fur was a rich light golden color, his eyes a familiar shade of amber. He was thin and wiry, dressed in dark clothes that blended with the shadows. A small spider emblem glinted on his chest.

By the gods, he was beautiful. His face was Mihou’s in every way- his eyes, his eyes brows, that little dimple on his cheek- the mark on his face.

This was him.

This was his boy.

The Child’s eyes were wide, his extended hand lowering a tad to show it had been him who has summoned the shadow just now, whisking away the Queen- his Mother, to safety.As he took in the scene before him - the destroyed lair, destroyed home, the cowering spider demons, and the imposing figure of the Monkey King- he inhaled sharply.

"Xiaoxiao," MK whispered, taking a hesitant step towards his friend - his brother.

The Monkey King's breath caught in his throat. Time seemed to stand still as he gazed upon the son. Emotions warred within him - joy, sorrow, regret, and a fierce, protective love that threatened to overwhelm him.

Then the cub spoke it was a sharp hissing sound that made him jolt, “What have you done?”

The Monkey King's heart clenched at the accusation in his son's voice. He took a tentative step forward, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture. "It’s you-," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

The child’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and confusion flashing across his face. He took a step back, his tail wrapping protectively around his leg. "Stay back!" Xiaozhizhu hissed, his voice trembling. He raised his hands defensively, dark energy swirling around his fingertips. His home- everything was destroyed…

His eyes kept flickering to MK. Why was he here?? Why was he just standing there and letting this happen?

The Monkey King's face fell, pain etching deep lines around his eyes. His ears flattened, the mighty King from a moment ago falling into a small and delicate whimper. “I-It’s- it’s hard to explain but-” he looked this boy up and down. His lower lip was trembling. This was his baby.

His knees were buckling.

Gods- what was he- he doing? How did he look to his child right now?

MK was blubbering, his eyes wide with panic as he felt the sharp sensations from his other half. The pain, the fear- the accusational anger that was growing, “X-Xiaoxiao wait, please. Let me explain,” he stammered, rushing to take his hand.

Xiaozhizhu flinched away from MK's outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing. MK made a sharp whimpering sound, his quivering at how sharp that denial felt to his chest. "Explain? Explain what? Why you're here with... with him?" He gestured sharply at the Monkey King, his voice rising. "Why my home is in ruins?"

The Monkey King took another hesitant step forward, his voice soft and pleading. "Please, son. I know this must be confusing, but if you'll just listen—"

"What did you just call me?!" Xiaozhizhu snapped, dark energy crackling around his hands. “I ain’t no “SON” of yours??”

Wukong opened and closed his mouth, speechless. “I…” he choked. He didn’t know how to explain. He didn’t know where to start. He felt such fear but such- he was dazed. This boy was as beautiful as MK was. With them standing side by side he could see it- same nose. Same way they carried themselves.

"Xiaoxiao, please," MK pleaded, his voice cracking. "I know this looks bad, but you have to listen. He's... he's our father."

Xiaozhizhu's eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. "What are you talking about? I don't have a father. I have a mother, and you—" he glared at the Monkey King, "—just tried to kill her!" if he hadn’t come when he had she might have been- He couldn’t bare to think it. She wasn’t exactly Mom of the year, but she was still his Mom. He would have nothing without her.

The Monkey King flinched as if struck. "No, that's not... I didn't mean to..." he trailed off.

Xiaozhizhu's eyes flashed with anger. "You didn't mean to?! Look around you!" He gestured wildly at the destruction surrounding them. "You tore apart my home! You attacked my family!"

The Monkey King took a shaky step forward, his hands outstretched pleadingly. "Please, you have to understand. We're your-“ his voice was small, “- family. You were taken from us when you were just a baby. I am your Father,” the words came out groggy and pained. He put his hand to his chest, eyes so wide and pooling with guilt and joy.

Xiaozhizhu shook his head vehemently, backing away. What the FUCK where these people on right now? When MK tried to grab his hand again he slashed at him. “Don’t touch me!!”

MK recoiled, Xiaozhizhu flinching to realize he had almost struck him. His other half…

N-No he didn’t want that but-

This was too much. They weren’t making sense. His emotions- and then MK’s- it was jumbled. It was overflowing and making it hard to breathe. He wanted it to stop.

It was suffocating!

“Stop talking-” he wanted to cover his ears.

"Xiaoxiao, please!" MK cried out, his voice desperate. "I know this is a lot, but it's true. We're brothers - twins!"

Xiaozhizhu's eyes darted between MK and the Monkey King, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. This couldn't be happening. It had to be some kind of trick, some elaborate scheme. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No, you're lying.” his hands shot up to his ears, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. This couldn't be real. It had to be some kind of nightmare.

The Monkey King took another step forward, his eyes brimming with tears. "Son, please. I know this is hard to believe, but—"

"I said STOP!" Xiaozhizhu screamed, dark energy exploding outward from his body. The force of it sent MK and the Monkey King stumbling backward, debris swirling around them.

Xiaozhizhu's eyes glowed with an eerie purple light, his fur standing on end. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I want no part of it!" His voice echoed. He hand lashed out, and the two were sent skidding a few more feet. MK clawed at the floor to keep himself rooted there.

The Monkey King's eyes widened in a mixture of awe and concern. His son's power was raw, untamed, and tinged with something dark. It reminded him painfully of his own rages from centuries past. He had Mihou’s energy, his shadows…

“I-I’m sorry-” he stammered. Gods. Centuries past? No… no he was still making those mistakes here and now.

Chunks of metal and rock lifted from the ground, orbiting him like a chaotic asteroid field. His eyes, now glowing an intense purple, fixed on the Monkey King. "You destroyed everything," he snarled, his voice distorted and echoing. “You’ll pay for this, Monkey King.” his firey gaze locked on MK. Hurt and rage swirling together. “Monkey Kid,”

He was stepping back, to the shadows behind him. MK yelped and pleaded, rushing to stop him from leaving. “No no, Xiaozhizhu-!”

The shadows swirled around Xiaozhizhu, enveloping him in darkness. MK lunged forward, his hand outstretched, but he was too late. His fingers grasped at empty air as his brother vanished into the void.

"No!" MK cried, falling to his knees. He pounded his fists against the ground, tears streaming down his face. "Xiaoxiao, come back!"

The Monkey King stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the spot where his long-lost son had disappeared. The weight of what had just transpired crashed down upon him.

MK was sobbing, grasping at the empty wall. His sobs echoed through the destroyed lair, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his forehead against the cold metal. The Monkey King stood motionless behind him, his face a mask of shock and grief. He fell to his knees, cursing himself

What had he done..?

Suddenly, the shadows on the wall began to ripple and shift. MK's head snapped up, his tear-filled eyes widening with hope. "Xiaoxiao?" he whispered.

A figure emerged from the darkness then, but it wasn't Xiaozhizhu. Instead, a tall, slender monkey demon stepped out, smelling of sweet plums and home. The Six Eared Macaque.

MK openly wailed at the sight of him, rushing to toss himself into his Baba’s arms. “Baba…!” At once Macaque was drawn to the sounds of his baby’s tears, his arms wrapping around MK. He soothed the child against him.

“I’m here, Moon Drop.” He did not know what had transpired as his Son melted against his arms and openly cried, but he was here now. It had been… quite the trip here after Wukong’s clone arrived. Speaking things that couldn’t possibly be true.

Yet here he stood, in the Spider Queen’s domain, with nothing but a sobbing child, the ruins of a lair, and his husband flat on his knees, looking like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. No spiders in sight. No Queen snickering.

And no lost child…

“…I got here too late, it seems,” he whispered quietly. So he held MK instead, focusing on him to fix one little piece at a time.

————

BOOM

Take this! This is just- it was in my brain and I needed an outlet! I got no clue where this au is going but for those who are curious, 🧐 I gift it to you.

Previous

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[hearts4hughes]

black - bsf!rafe cameron x fem!reader

(listen to black by pearl jam for the full experience)

warnings: pure yearning and desperate longing ; substance use ; angst angst angst

a/n: can you tell that i love yearning!pathetic!bsf!rafe? because i do and it consumes my thoughts.

he stalked you from across the room, his jaw clenched and his chest burnt with a green flame. every breath came out harsher than the one before.

you stood across the room, your white dress swaying as you moved your hips to the music. your perfectly manicured fingers clasped behind the blonde’s neck as you both danced. he leaned forward, bending over just enough to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

rafe heard your precious giggles from his spot and he swallowed harshly, looking down at the glass in his hands. he swore he never felt pain like htis— the pain of seeing his best friend, his girl, flirting with some nobody at his party. someone could’ve stabbed him and he would’ve felt less pain than this.

that boy doesn’t deserve you. he doesn’t know how to treat you well, not like rafe does. you’re an empty canvas, an untouched piece of clay, the goddamn essence of pure in every sense of the word— something only rafe can trust himself to protect, everyone else was a potential threat.

his fingers tightened around the glass, the knuckles of his free hand whitening as he fought the urge to crush it. his eyes never left you, though— how could they? you were his center of gravity, the one constant in a world that never stopped spinning. but tonight, you felt farther away than ever.

he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crashed over him like violent waves, each one dragging him further under. did you laugh like that when he cracked a joke? did your eyes light up the same way when it was his arms around you, his voice low in your ear?

you weren’t his. not really. not in the way he wanted, not in the way he craved. that was the problem. he had been a coward for too long, hiding behind the mask of your best friend because it was safe because he thought it was enough. but it wasn’t— not when you looked at someone else the way he wished you’d look at him.

he hated how he noticed everything about you. how you tapped your fingers to the beat of the music when you were lost in thought; how you always tilted your head just slightly when you were teasing him; how your lips curved into the smallest, most beautiful smile when he called you his girl, even if he only said it as a joke. he noticed it all.

god, he wanted to pull you away from the blonde, to grab your wrist, and drag you outside where it was quiet. he wanted to press you against the wall, to tell you how he felt, to confess everything. confess how he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you, how you were his, whether you realized it or not.

but he stayed rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear of ruining what you had. what if you didn’t feel the same? how could you love a disaster like him? what if he lost you completely? the thought alone made his stomach churn.

rafe downed the rest of his drink in one bitter gulp, the burn almost distracting him from how his body ached. he stood up suddenly, grabbing the packet of white powder from his back pocket. the very same powder that preoccupied his vicious thoughts for a while. this kept him sane.

but as he went to leave the room, your eyes met his. it was as if time stopped as you both gazed at each other. you gave him a weak smile, almost as if you could sense his pain. he returned the smile, giving you a wink before leaving the room. the second he looked away, his face dropped. he entered an empty room, poured the powder into thin lines, rolled up a $100 bill, and let the substance fill his nose. he wiped away the drop of blood that followed, smiling in contentment as his thoughts were silenced.

and yet, even as the numbness crept in, the ache of you lingered like an unbearable weightt he couldn’t shake. you were his comfort and his torment, the dream he’d never wake from, and the wound that refused to heal. no matter how much he tried to quiet his mind, you were always there, tattooed in black into his every thought, every breath, every broken piece of him. you weren’t his, not really, but god, you would always be the only thing he ever truly wanted.

[cocobeanncteez]

The CEO Collision - Part Four

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Four: alcohol consumption, profanities, angst, seonghwa talks about a toxic person in his past, mention of a restraining order and going through a rough breakup, lotssss of fluff in this part after the initial angst parts. Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

A month later, your relationship with Seonghwa had evolved into something far more intense than you’d ever expected. Your days were filled with teasing glances, stolen kisses, and luxurious dates that always ended in nights that left you breathless, and overall, a lot of sex. It was magnetic, fiery, and consuming in the best way.

Yet, in the quiet moments, when the rush of adrenaline faded, a nagging thought lingered at the back of your mind. You still hadn’t asked him about the past.

You’d told yourself it didn’t matter. That the way he touched you, cared for you, and looked at you as though you were his entire world was enough. And maybe it was—until the reality of your arrangement crept in. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the delay in finalizing your engagement had real consequences for his company. You knew Seonghwa wouldn’t push you, but every passing day added to the strain.

But tonight, that would change.

If you were going to marry this man, you needed to understand everything—especially if it involved you.

The soft glow of candlelight illuminated your living room as you sat curled on the couch, waiting for him to arrive. You’d invited him over for dinner, deciding that the intimacy of your home would make the conversation easier, and because your family was away on a business trip that didn’t require your presence.

When the bell rang, your heart raced. You opened the door to find Seonghwa standing there, as composed and handsome as ever, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand.

“For you,” he said with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in. His presence filled the space effortlessly, the air shifting the way it always did when he was near.

Dinner was a quiet affair, filled with comfortable silences and the occasional light-hearted remark. But as the plates were cleared and the mood turned softer, you knew it was time.

“Seonghwa,” you started, your voice steady, though your hands fidgeted with the edge of the napkin in your lap. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

He set his wine glass down, his expression softening but still attentive. “What’s on your mind, my love?”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I… never really asked you about our past… the reason I resented you for so long.”

Seonghwa reached for your hands, his thumbs brushing gentle circles on your skin. “I’ve had a feeling you wanted to talk about this. I didn’t push because I wanted you to bring it up when you felt ready.”

“I just…” You hesitated, searching his face for a reaction. “You know, we slept together so many times before, and the next day, you acted like it didn’t matter. I understand we were drunk out of our minds, but… I don’t know. Maybe I don’t understand why things never grew between us back then?”

He sighed, his gaze dipping to where your hands intertwined. “I owe you the truth about that.” He paused, his tone carrying a weight that made your chest tighten. “I’ve always had feelings for you since we were 23, Y/N. Always. But… there were things happening back then that made it impossible for me to act on them.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What things?”

“Do you know Shin Nayeon?” he asked cautiously.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded. “Shin Group’s daughter?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “When I was younger, my parents had an informal agreement with hers. It was one of those old-fashioned things—two families joking about marrying off their children to secure business ties. My parents never took it seriously, but hers did.”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “So… what happened?”

“When I turned 21, the Shins started pushing for an engagement,” he explained. “At the time, I was dating someone… someone I thought I’d marry. But Nayeon found out and intervened. She told my girlfriend at that time some horrible things, things that weren’t true, and it ended us.”

Your heart clenched at the sadness in his voice. “That’s awful.”

“She was relentless,” Seonghwa continued, his jaw tightening, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. “She spread rumors, made demands, and even tried to manipulate my parents. But they refused to entertain her. I thought that would be enough to stop her, but she didn’t back off. I filed a restraining order, but it was useless. Her family had too much influence—they got it dismissed before it even mattered.”

You absorbed his words, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. “So, when we…”

“I was protecting you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. “I knew what I felt for you was real, but I couldn’t trust myself to keep you safe. Everything that came with being involved with me felt like too much of a risk. Nayeon would’ve found a way to hurt you, to drag you into her chaos. And…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor before returning to yours. “You’re Joong’s sister. He knew about Nayeon and what she was capable of. If I got involved with you and anything happened, he would’ve lost his mind.”

You processed his words, your emotions swirling. “Joong knew?”

“He knew about Nayeon,” Seonghwa admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not about my feelings for you, though. But even without that, he was protective of you. If I’d let things progress between us, especially with you being from a wealthy family, Nayeon would’ve weaponized the media against you to have her way. I couldn’t let that happen.”

You looked at him, the conflict evident in his expression. “So, instead, you pushed me away... multiple times.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I thought I was sparing you from the mess, but I realize now that I just hurt you instead. I’m sorry, Y/N. I was selfish and scared.”

You stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in. It explained so much—his distance, the tension, and the unspoken emotions between you all these years.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you said finally, your tone softer than you expected.

“I wish I had too,” he replied earnestly. “But now, I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I want us to move forward with no secrets between us.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the honesty in his words. “Thank you for telling me.”

“And thank you for listening,” he said, his voice warm. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the connection between you only deepened. For the first time, it felt like the past wasn’t a barrier but a bridge to understanding each other better.

“So what happened to Nayeon after?” you asked, breaking the momentary silence. “I know she’s married now.”

“After nearly five years of harassing me, the Moon family approached her parents with a proposal for their second youngest son,” Seonghwa said, leaning back slightly, his expression a mix of relief and lingering exasperation. “He’s quite handsome and from a ridiculously wealthy family. One day, she came up to me and said she found someone more handsome and richer, and then just like that, she left me alone. I didn’t trust it at first, but after her wedding went through, I could finally breathe.”

You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Five years? That’s… insane.”

“It was,” he admitted, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “By the time she finally moved on, I had gotten used to looking over my shoulder. It took a while to realize she was really gone.”

You let his words sink in, the weight of what he’d endured slowly settling in your mind. “And during all that… you and I…”

“It was when we were pursuing our master’s degrees,” Seonghwa interjected, his gaze softening as he recalled the memory. “Do you remember?”

You nodded, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I remember waking up the next morning, hoping to see you still there,” he continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But you were gone. San and Jongho saw you leaving my place. They weren’t subtle about their surprise.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment but pushed through it. “Yeah, well… I wasn’t exactly thinking straight back then.”

“It was a complicated time,” Seonghwa said gently, his eyes holding yours. “What threw me off was when I found out later that you got back together with your ex. I asked Joong about you, and he told me the news like it was nothing. I… wasn’t sure how to feel.”

You bit your lip, the weight of his words making your heart ache. “I didn’t know, Seonghwa. I had no idea how much it mattered to you back then.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I never said anything. I didn’t fight for what I wanted. I let the circumstances and my fears control me.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his. “Well, you’re here now, and so am I. Maybe it wasn’t the right time then, but it feels like it is now.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I’ll make sure I don’t waste it this time.”

The quiet promise in his voice sent a warmth through you, solidifying the unspoken understanding that despite the twists and turns of your past, you were both ready to move forward together.

-x-x-x-

Seonghwa adjusted his tie as he sat in the elegant sitting room of your family’s mansion. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood and tasteful decor. Your mother poured tea into delicate china cups, while your father leaned back in his chair, observing Seonghwa with an approving smile.

“I must say, Seonghwa,” your father began, his voice warm, “it’s always a pleasure having you here. Though, I admit I’m curious about the purpose of this visit. Joong told us you had something important to discuss.”

Seonghwa straightened his posture, his expression a mix of confidence and sincerity. “Yes, sir. I do.”

Hongjoong, who had been lounging casually on the couch, suddenly perked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Seonghwa. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Seonghwa admitted, taking a steadying breath. “I wanted to speak with you all because it concerns Y/N and our future together.”

Your mother’s hands paused mid-air as she reached for her tea. She exchanged a glance with your father, her curiosity piqued. “Go on,” she encouraged, her tone kind but intrigued.

Seonghwa clasped his hands together, leaning slightly forward. “I would like to ask for your permission to propose to Y/N.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Your parents shared a look of surprise, and even Hongjoong looked momentarily caught off guard even though Seonghwa told him before that he’d rather propose; he didn’t think Seonghwa would actually go through with it.

“A proposal?” your father echoed, his eyebrows raising slightly. “That’s… unexpected. Families like ours typically sit down and come to a mutual agreement about engagements.”

“I understand,” Seonghwa replied, his voice steady and respectful. “But I don’t want this to be just a formality or a business decision. Y/N means far more to me than that. I want to ask her properly, to show her that this is about love and partnership, not just obligation or tradition.”

Your mother’s expression softened, a pleased smile curving her lips. “That’s quite thoughtful of you, Seonghwa. I must say, it’s refreshing to hear this perspective.”

Hongjoong leaned back, crossing his arms. “You do realize Y/N isn’t exactly the easiest person to win over, right? You’re sure about this?”

“More than anything,” Seonghwa replied without hesitation.

Your father nodded slowly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Well, I have to say, Seonghwa, you’ve impressed us since the very beginning. We’ve seen how much you respect and care for Y/N, and that’s what matters most to us.”

“Absolutely,” your mother added warmly. “You have our blessing.”

Hongjoong smirked, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this determined to deal with my sister. But you’ve got my support too—just don’t mess it up.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you. All of you. This means a lot to me.”

As he sipped his tea, Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief and anticipation. Now all that remained was picking the perfect ring for you and bringing his proposal plans to reality—a moment he was determined to make unforgettable.

-

“Hyung… oh my god, we’ve been to like, eight stores already,” Wooyoung groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically as he leaned against the glass counter of yet another upscale jewelry store. “How hard is it for you to pick a ring? Just pick one. They’re all shiny and expensive. She’ll love any of them.”

Seonghwa, unfazed, inspected yet another diamond solitaire ring under the bright store lights, tilting it slightly to see how the facets caught the light. “It’s not just about shiny and expensive, Wooyoung,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “It has to be perfect. She deserves that.”

Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation. “Okay, but does it have to be this hard? We’ve been at this for hours. My feet hurt, my patience is gone, and I think the saleslady over there is about two seconds away from calling security because she thinks we’re casing the place.”

Mingi, who was lounging on one of the plush chairs in the corner, laughed. “To be fair, hyung, you have been scrutinizing every single ring in the city like your life depends on it. At this point, just have one custom-made.”

Seonghwa sighed, placing the ring back onto its velvet display. “I thought about that, but custom orders take weeks, and I don’t want to wait that long. I need the proposal to happen soon.”

“Why the rush?” Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before replying, “I’ve already waited too long to tell her how I feel. And with everything that’s happened recently… I want her to know I’m serious. I want her to know she’s my future.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically. “Aww, hyung, that’s so romantic. But also, can you speed this up? I need food. I’m dying here.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying, Wooyoung. You’re just dramatic.”

As the two bickered, Seonghwa’s eyes fell on a particular ring—a classic design with a round brilliant-cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds, set on a delicate platinum band. It wasn’t overly flashy, but it exuded timeless elegance.

The sales associate noticed his interest and stepped forward with a warm smile. “Excellent choice, sir. This one is one of our most popular designs for proposals. It’s simple, yet elegant—a symbol of everlasting love.”

Seonghwa picked it up and examined it closely. It was perfect. It reminded him of you: elegant, understated, yet undeniably captivating.

“This is the one,” he said decisively, slipping the ring back into its box.

“Finally!” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his arms up in mock relief. “Can we eat now?”

Seonghwa chuckled, ignoring his friend’s dramatics. “Get the car while I pay,” he told Wooyoung whom immediately agreed, dragging Mingi along with him.

While Seonghwa paid for the ring, an idea popped up in his head, and he looked at the sales associate with a smirk on his face. “Do you do customized designs? Not for jewelry… but showpieces?”

-

Nari leaned back in her office chair, glancing cautiously at the glass walls of her workspace to ensure no one could overhear her conversation. Holding her phone close, she spoke in a hushed but amused tone.

“Look, Mr. Park, I’m telling you, don’t plan anything for this week,” she said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Trust me on this—Y/N will not want to be on a yacht or anywhere fancy while she’s on her period.”

There was a short pause before Seonghwa’s voice came through, slightly hesitant. “Are you sure? She didn’t mention anything about it to me.”

Nari rolled her eyes, though her tone remained playful. “Of course she didn’t. She’s not going to tell you something like that directly, especially not when you’re still in the whole ‘charming romantic’ phase of your relationship. That’s why you’ve got me.”

Seonghwa sighed, clearly relieved. “Alright. Next week it is, then. She loves the sea, and I want her to enjoy every moment of it.”

“Exactly,” Nari agreed, tapping her pen against her desk. “Schedule the yacht for next week, and maybe throw in some spa time or a nice dinner this weekend instead. Keep things low-key for now.”

“I appreciate this,” Seonghwa said earnestly. “Thank you, Nari. I owe you one.”

She smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, you owe me more than one. I’m practically your accomplice at this point. If Y/N ever finds out I’m helping you plan all this behind her back, I’m denying everything.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Noted. I’ll make sure to cover for you if it ever comes up.”

“Good,” Nari replied, checking the time. “Now go do your billionaire CEO thing or whatever. I’ve got real work to do.”

Seonghwa’s laughter was warm and genuine. “You’re a lifesaver, Nari. Thanks again.”

As the call ended, Nari shook her head with a small smile. “She better marry this guy,” she muttered under her breath before diving back into her paperwork.

-

Seonghwa stood behind the bar counter at Mingi’s establishment, his sleeves rolled up, a focused expression on his face. The bar was quiet this afternoon, Mingi having locked the doors to ensure no interruptions during their little mixology lesson.

Mingi leaned against the counter, watching Seonghwa’s meticulous movements with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Hyung, you don’t have to look like you’re performing heart surgery. It’s just a cocktail.”

“This is Y/N’s favorite cocktail,” Seonghwa countered, his voice sharp with determination. “She said it’s the best drink in the world. I can’t mess this up.”

Wooyoung, seated on one of the barstools, swirled a mocktail in his hand. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure if she knew you were going to this length, she’d already be swooning. You don’t have to perfect it, hyung.”

“Perfection is the bare minimum,” Seonghwa shot back, carefully measuring the ingredients. “Tell me again, Mingi. What’s the trick to getting that foam on top just right?”

Mingi smirked, reaching for a shaker. “It’s all in the shake. You’ve got to go hard and fast, no half-hearted effort. Like this.” He demonstrated with exaggerated movements, the shaker rattling loudly in his hands.

Wooyoung snickered. “I’ve seen you use those moves on the dance floor, Mingi. Impressive multitasking.”

Mingi flipped him off without missing a beat. “Watch and learn, Woo.” He poured the mixture into a glass, revealing a perfectly frothy layer. “Now you try, lover boy.”

Seonghwa took the shaker, his brows furrowed in concentration. He mimicked Mingi’s movements, his arms flexing as he shook the cocktail with vigor.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Mingi. “Hyung’s shaking that thing like it owes him money.”

Mingi snorted, but the laughter died quickly when Seonghwa poured the drink into a glass, revealing a near-perfect foam.

“Not bad,” Mingi admitted, clapping Seonghwa on the back. “You’re a quick learner.”

Seonghwa allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he garnished the drink with precision. “She’ll love this.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “You’re setting the bar too high for the rest of us, hyung. Can’t wait for Y/N to brag about how her fiancé makes her custom cocktails at home.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened at the word fiancé. “She deserves every bit of effort. I want everything about that night to be perfect.”

Mingi grinned, handing him the recipe card. “Well, you’ve got the drink down. Just don’t forget to actually ask her to marry you between impressing her with cocktails and gazing at her like a lovesick puppy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, slipping the card into his pocket. “Noted. Thanks for this, Mingi. And for keeping it a secret.”

“Anything for true love,” Mingi replied with mock seriousness, raising his mocktail in a toast.

Wooyoung smirked. “Anything except letting me have this cocktail for free, apparently.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “Pay up or shut up, Woo.”

As the three men exchanged banter, Seonghwa couldn’t help but imagine your reaction, already counting down the days until the proposal.

---

The warm scent of lavender and eucalyptus surrounded you as you settled into the plush spa chair, your nails being meticulously painted by a skilled technician. Yeri sat beside you, her feet soaking in a tub of warm, scented water, a serene smile on her face that made you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“You’re unusually chipper today,” you remarked, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye.

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” Yeri retorted, feigning offense.

“You dragged me to a whole-day spa retreat out of the blue,” you pointed out. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but what’s the occasion?”

She shrugged, a little too nonchalantly. “Does there have to be an occasion? Maybe I just wanted some girl time with my CEO best friend.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeri, the last time you did something like this, it was to butter me up before telling me you totaled your car that I bought you for your birthday.”

Yeri gasped dramatically. “I cannot believe you would bring up my darkest moment during such a relaxing day.”

You smirked. “So? What is it? Spill.”

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her robe. “Fine. Maybe I just thought you could use a day to unwind. You’ve been busy with work, and… things have been going really well with Seonghwa, haven’t they?”

The mention of his name made your cheeks warm. “They have. But what does that have to do with this?”

“Nothing!” she said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just thought, you know, you deserve to feel pampered.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am not acting weird,” she insisted, though the guilty flicker in her expression betrayed her.

Before you could press further, the nail technician announced she was finished, and Yeri sprang to her feet. “Massage time!” she said, grabbing your arm and practically dragging you toward the treatment rooms.

“Okay, now you’re definitely up to something,” you said as you followed her, laughing.

Later, during the massage, Yeri lay on her stomach, her face hidden in the cradle of the massage table. “You know,” she said, her voice muffled, “if Seonghwa ever proposes, you better say yes.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you turned your head toward her, frowning. “Where is this coming from?”

“Just saying,” she replied, her tone overly casual. “He’s, like, the perfect guy. Thoughtful, successful, hot…”

You laughed softly. “Are you trying to convince me to marry him?”

“Nope, not at all,” Yeri said quickly. “Just… planting a seed.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Seonghwa wouldn’t propose, Yeri. This is a business arrangement, so basically like a mutual engagement ceremony, not a get down on one knee kind of thing.”

Yeri bit her lip to stifle her grin. She couldn’t wait to see your reaction tomorrow.

-

The soft hum of the yacht's engine and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the hull created a serene atmosphere. The sun was beginning its set on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of gold, pink, and lavender. The air was cool, the scent of the ocean salty and fresh, as it tousled your hair and tugged at your fitted white dress. You leaned against the railing of the top deck, your gaze lost in the vast, endless expanse of water, trying to take in the beauty of the moment.

It was peaceful, calming, perfect.

And then you felt Seonghwa’s presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him; you felt him before you saw him. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the kind that made your heart flutter just a little.

“This view suits you,” his voice broke through the silence, low and intimate.

You turned to face him, catching a glimpse of his slightly tousled hair, the loose white linen shirt he was wearing flowing in the evening breeze. He looked effortlessly handsome, confident, and calm—but you could sense the tension in his jaw, the anticipation in his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied softly, giving him a smile as you gestured to the horizon. “I can’t remember the last time I had time to enjoy something like this.”

He stepped closer, his gaze not leaving yours. There was something in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable. But it was masked by the usual composure he wore.

“So, this is the yacht you bought?” you asked, unable to hide the playful tone in your voice. “Seems... extravagant.”

His lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Sort of,” he said, his tone light and casual, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the hesitation. “Sort of?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Okay, it’s Jongho’s yacht.”

“Jongho’s?” you repeated, half-laughing. “Didn’t you say you wanted to saw me the yacht you bought? And here I thought you were trying to impress me with your wealth.”

“Well, that too,” he admitted with a sly grin. “But I thought it would be the perfect setting for tonight.”

“Tonight?” You felt a flutter of curiosity in your chest. “What’s so special about tonight?”

He didn’t answer right away, only extended his hand toward you with a slow, deliberate motion. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Without another word, you took his hand, your heart thumping against your chest as you followed him down to the main deck. The staff was nowhere in sight; it was just the two of you now, the quiet intimacy of the space wrapping around you.

The dinner table was set perfectly, with crisp white linens, glowing candles, and a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting in the center. The soft light from the candles flickered in the dimming twilight, casting a warm glow across everything.

You gasped softly, a smile forming on your lips. “Wow… Seonghwa, this is—”

“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice almost tentative.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within you. “Like it? I love it.”

He gave you a satisfied smile and pulled out your chair for you, a gentleman as always, though there was an unmistakable edge to his demeanor tonight.

As dinner went on, you were lost in the moment, savoring every bite of food, every glance between you two, and the rare, intimate silence that settled between you. The yacht gently rocked with the waves, the gentle hum of the engine setting a peaceful rhythm. But you could feel the change in the air. Something was different about tonight. Something was building.

When dessert came—a delicate chocolate mousse with fresh berries—Seonghwa suddenly stood up, his movements slow, deliberate. You followed his lead, your curiosity piqued.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious than before.

You set your spoon down, meeting his eyes. Your heart was racing now, a small flutter of anticipation at the back of your throat.

His gaze softened as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. The moment you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything seemed to freeze.

“Y/N…” He lowered himself to one knee in front of you, his expression tender and vulnerable. “I know things didn’t start like a typical relationship, but what we’ve built together means everything to me. You mean everything to me, and I’m unconditionally in love with you. You’ve brought joy, peace, and a kind of love into my life I didn’t know I was missing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And so...”

He opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the soft glow of the candles and reflecting the light as though it was alive. The room seemed to hold its breath as you stared at the ring, then back at him, the love in his eyes almost tangible.

His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You couldn’t speak right away, your heart in your throat, but your eyes welled with tears as you stared at him. Everything he’d said, everything he had done to make this moment perfect, flooded over you. The love, the patience, the depth of his feelings for you—it was all too much to process.

With a shaky breath, you whispered, “Yes. Yes, Seonghwa, I’ll marry you.”

His face broke into the widest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen. He slipped the ring onto your finger with trembling hands, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, he stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he murmured against your hair.

You laughed softly, your hands trembling as you touched his chest, feeling his heart beat in sync with yours. “I think we just made each other the happiest.”

The kiss that followed was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of forever. The world seemed to disappear around you, leaving only Seonghwa, your now fiancé, and a love that had finally come full circle.

The sudden sound of cheers broke through the intimate bubble you and Seonghwa had created. You pulled back from the kiss, startled, only to see the yacht staff clapping enthusiastically. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you buried your face in Seonghwa’s chest, overwhelmed and a little embarrassed by the attention.

“They were in on it?” you asked, your voice muffled against him.

Seonghwa chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter soothing. “Of course. I needed some help to make tonight perfect. All our friends helped in some way.”

A photographer you hadn’t noticed before stepped forward, his camera clicking as he captured more pictures of the two of you. He must have been hiding nearby, capturing the entire proposal as it unfolded.

You glanced at Seonghwa, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Pictures too? You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

He smiled down at you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t want to forget a single moment of this night. And I thought you might like to have these memories to look back on someday.”

The photographer took a few more shots, stepping back with a satisfied nod. “Congratulations to the both of you,” he said warmly before retreating, likely to give you privacy.

The staff, sensing the moment was still yours to savor, began quietly retreating to their stations, leaving you and Seonghwa alone once more. The candles flickered in the gentle evening breeze, and the faint sound of waves lapping against the yacht filled the silence.

You looked down at the ring now adorning your finger, its brilliance dazzling even in the dim light. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, running your thumb over the delicate band.

Seonghwa gently tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze full of love and adoration.

A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. “You’re such a romantic. I never would have guessed.”

He smirked, leaning closer so his forehead rested against yours. “You bring it out of me.”

You sighed, letting the warmth of his words settle over you. “Thank you, Seonghwa. For all of this. For… us.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to anchor you to him. “I should be thanking you. You said yes, after all.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the reality of your new future sinking in. The stars above seemed to twinkle brighter, and the ocean stretched endlessly around you—a perfect metaphor for the journey you were about to embark on together.

Finally, he pulled back, his expression turning mischievous. “Now, Mrs. Park-to-be,” he said, his tone light, “how about we celebrate properly? I took some lessons from Mingi on how to make your favorite cocktail.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Mingi gave you lessons? This I have to see.”

Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging you gently toward the staircase leading below deck. “I figured it was only right, considering how much you love that drink. But fair warning, I’m not a professional… yet.”

You laughed, following his lead, a giggle escaping your lips. “I have very high expectations, fiancé.”

The word felt foreign yet perfect as it rolled off your tongue, and the way Seonghwa’s face lit up at hearing it made your heart swell. He glanced back at you, his smile softening into something far more intimate.

“I don’t plan on disappointing you,” he murmured, his tone carrying a quiet promise.

The lower deck was as beautifully arranged as the top, with soft lighting and a cozy seating area near a fully stocked bar. Seonghwa guided you to sit while he moved behind the bar, rolling up his sleeves with exaggerated flair.

“Alright, let’s see if I remember everything Mingi drilled into me,” he said, picking up the shaker.

You leaned back, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him with amusement. “No pressure or anything. But if it’s terrible, I’m never letting you forget it.”

He shot you a mock glare before getting to work, carefully measuring and mixing the ingredients with surprising precision. As he worked, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly charming he looked, even while concentrating.

Finally, he poured the drink into a chilled glass, sliding it across the bar toward you with a triumphant grin. “One Y/N-approved cocktail, ready to impress.”

You took a cautious sip, the familiar flavors bursting on your tongue. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “Seonghwa… this is actually good.”

His grin turned smug, and he leaned against the bar, watching you with a glint in his eye. “Is that so? I’ll take that as a win.”

Setting the glass down, you got up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “A big win,” you admitted, pulling him closer.

Seonghwa’s arms circled your waist, and his smile softened as he gazed down at you. He was about to say something, his lips parting, when a sudden flash of light startled you both.

“Ah, sorry!” the photographer said sheepishly, lowering his camera. “I’ve been capturing everything quietly, but I thought I’d try the flash for this one.”

You blinked, momentarily surprised, before chuckling softly. “That’s no problem at all! Thank you for your hard work.”

Seonghwa turned slightly, his hand still resting on your waist, giving the photographer a polite nod. “You’ve been doing an excellent job. We’ll probably frame half of these,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he glanced back at you.

The photographer grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Park. I’ll make sure the shots are perfect.”

“Shall we go to the top deck to take more pictures?” Seonghwa asked the photographer. “I recall you saying you knew a great technique?”

The photographer grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely, Mr. Park! The top deck at this hour will give us stunning shots with the night sky as a backdrop.”

Seonghwa turned to you, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Shall we? I think a few pictures with the stars above and the ocean behind us would be perfect.”

You laughed lightly, slipping your hand into his. “You’re really going all out with this, aren’t you?”

“For you? Always,” he replied without missing a beat, guiding you toward the staircase that led to the top deck.

The cool breeze met you as you stepped onto the open deck, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds on velvet. The photographer followed closely, already adjusting his camera settings for the low light.

“Why don’t you stand over there?” he suggested, pointing to the edge of the deck where the soft glow of the yacht’s lights faded into the darkness of the sea. “I’ll frame the two of you with the horizon, it’ll look magical.”

Seonghwa placed his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you stood together at the rail. The photographer clicked away, occasionally murmuring directions.

“Turn just slightly… perfect. Now look at each other—yes, like that!”

You glanced up at Seonghwa, his expression so tender it made your chest ache. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” you teased softly.

He smirked, leaning closer. “Can you blame me? I just proposed to the most beautiful woman in the world. I want every second of this night captured.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you playfully swatted his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he countered, tilting his head just enough to brush a kiss against your temple.

“Got it!” the photographer called, breaking the moment. “These are going to turn out stunning. Do you want a few more with a different angle?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, his smile asking the question as much as his words. “One more set?”

You nodded, unable to hide your own excitement. “Why not? Let’s make this night unforgettable.”

The three of you moved to a new spot on the deck, the laughter and easy banter between you and Seonghwa filling the air as the camera continued to click, immortalizing the beginning of your forever together.

-x-x-x-

Nari burst into your office, barely able to contain her laughter as she waved her phone in the air. “Ms. Y/N! You have to see this. The media is going wild!”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your pen down. “What now?”

With a grin, she handed over her phone. On the screen was an article with a headline so dramatic it almost made you laugh:

“CEO of Byeol Materials Group, Park Seonghwa, Spotted on a Diamond Hunt! Engagement Rumors Spark Frenzy. But Who is the Lucky Woman?”

You blinked, glancing up at Nari before reading the rest aloud:

“Park Seonghwa, the enigmatic and wildly successful CEO of Byeol Materials Group, has been caught making waves yet again—but this time, it’s not about business.

The CEO was seen visiting multiple exclusive jewelry stores over the past few weeks, meticulously inspecting engagement rings. According to insiders from two of the stores, Seonghwa spent considerable time consulting on custom designs, sparking speculation that he’s planning to pop the question.

Known for his fiercely private nature, CEO Park has everyone guessing: Who could the lucky woman be? Industry insiders and fans alike are buzzing with theories, ranging from high-society heiresses to childhood sweethearts.

‘He was extremely particular about what he wanted,’ one jeweler revealed under anonymity. ‘He didn’t settle for anything less than perfection.’

While CEO Park’s representatives have declined to comment, sources close to the CEO hint that the engagement might be announced soon. With his recent public appearances marked by a certain glow and his habit of dodging personal questions, it seems the notoriously composed CEO might be ready to take the leap into married life.

As speculation mounts, one thing is certain: whoever she is, she’s one very lucky lady. Stay tuned as we uncover more about the mystery that is Park Seonghwa’s love life.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, handing the phone back to Nari. “They’re really reaching, aren’t they?”

Nari crossed her arms, trying to look innocent but failing miserably. “Reaching? Or spot-on?”

You shot her a look. “You’re not even trying to be subtle, are you?”

“Why should I? I was involved in planning the proposal too, after all,” she said with a triumphant smirk.

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “How is this already news? It hasn’t even been 48 hours!”

“Seonghwa’s too high-profile, and the media are like hawks,” Nari replied, still grinning. “But hey, at least they’re calling you lucky.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave her a playful shove. “Out. And don’t you dare let this blow up any further.”

She laughed as she left the room, her voice echoing down the hallway. “No promises!”

-

The dining room at Seonghwa’s luxurious residence was abuzz with conversation as your family and his gathered around the long, elegantly set table. The warm glow of the chandelier illuminated the room, and the soft hum of classical music played in the background, adding to the sophisticated ambiance.

Your mother was the first to bring up the engagement party. “We’re so thrilled to host it at our mansion,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “The new flowers we planted will be in full bloom soon, and it’s the perfect setting for such a special occasion.”

Seonghwa’s mother smiled warmly. “It’s an excellent choice. Intimate, yet grand enough to accommodate everyone we’d like to invite. I’ve heard your family has hosted some of the most memorable events there.”

“Thank you,” your father chimed in, nodding. “We’ve already contacted the decorators and catering teams. They’re preparing something truly exceptional.”

Seonghwa leaned back slightly, his hand casually resting on the arm of his chair. “It sounds like everything is coming together perfectly. What about the guest list? Have we finalized it?”

Hongjoong, seated next to your father, smirked. “Oh, it’s finalized all right. Between both our families, close friends, and the necessary business connections, we’re looking at a sizable number.”

Your mother chuckled. “Not too large, though. We want it to feel personal.”

Seonghwa’s father nodded approvingly. “Good. It’s important to strike that balance.”

Then, as the plates of dessert were being served, the conversation shifted.

“When do we plan to make the public announcement?” Seonghwa’s mother asked, her gaze moving between you and Seonghwa. “There’s been plenty of speculation in the media already.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Seonghwa, who gave you a reassuring smile before speaking. “I think it would be ideal to announce it right after the engagement party,” he said. “That way, the news will come directly from us, accompanied by official photos. It’ll leave no room for misunderstandings.”

Your father nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a smart approach. We’ll also have more control over the narrative that way.”

“But won’t the media catch wind of the party itself?” your mother asked.

Seonghwa’s mother waved her hand dismissively. “Let them speculate. It’ll only build anticipation. By the time we confirm it, it’ll already be the story everyone’s waiting for.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa agreed. Then, turning his attention to you, he added, “Of course, we’ll only proceed this way if you’re comfortable with it.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his consideration. “I think it sounds like a solid plan. Let’s do it.”

“Wonderful,” his father said, raising his glass. “To a smooth engagement and a future filled with happiness for the two of you.”

Everyone lifted their glasses, the clinking of crystal marking the moment. As the evening went on, the discussion shifted to lighter topics, but the excitement about the upcoming engagement lingered in the air, uniting both families in a shared sense of joy and anticipation.

---

Two weeks later

The engagement party was nothing short of spectacular. Your family mansion had been transformed into a stunning venue, its grand garden illuminated by thousands of twinkling fairy lights and elegant chandeliers suspended from a custom-built canopy. Guests mingled around, their laughter and conversations blending with the soft music from a live string quartet. The scent of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and orchids—filled the air, a testament to the meticulous arrangements.

You stood near the entrance, greeting guests alongside Seonghwa. Dressed in a custom ivory gown adorned with subtle embellishments that sparkled under the lights, you felt every bit the part. Seonghwa, by your side in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looked effortlessly handsome, his presence commanding yet comforting.

“Y/N, you look stunning,” a guest remarked as they passed.

“Thank you,” you replied warmly, your hand instinctively slipping into Seonghwa’s.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong teased, joining you with a drink in hand. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

Seonghwa chuckled, glancing at you. “I think I’ve already won tonight.”

“You’re cheesy,” you said, suppressing a laugh.

“Only for you,” he replied with a wink, earning a playful roll of your eyes.

The evening proceeded seamlessly. The media had been carefully kept at bay, allowing everyone to enjoy the event in peace. Your parents were busy entertaining important guests, while Seonghwa’s parents mingled effortlessly, their charm evident. Friends like San, Yeosang, and Yunho made sure the atmosphere remained lively, occasionally cracking jokes and teasing Seonghwa about “finally sealing the deal.”

As you were chatting with a few guests, you noticed Mingi quickly making his way toward you and Seonghwa, his steps hurried, and Wooyoung trailing behind him, laughing so loudly it turned heads.

“Is it true?” Mingi exclaimed as he reached you, a look of mock astonishment plastered on his face. “Is it actually true? You really did it?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide his smile. “I placed the order for it that day at the store while buying Y/N’s ring. It arrived today.”

Mingi gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Oh my! The wealthy are insane!”

You blinked, thoroughly confused by the exchange. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re wealthy too, Mingi,” Yeosang quipped, joining the group.

“Not as much as lover boy here, clearly!” Mingi shot back, causing Wooyoung to laugh even harder.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” you asked, looking between the men.

Seonghwa chuckled softly, placing a hand on your lower back and gently steering you toward a nearby table. On it sat a sleek, golden-colored vase filled with intricate crystal flowers, their facets sparkling brilliantly under the soft lighting.

You tilted your head, confused by the reaction the simple centerpiece seemed to provoke. “It’s just a vase with crystal flowers. Why is everyone acting so weird?”

“Oh my god!” Mingi exclaimed, dramatically pointing at the vase. “You actually did it!”

“Did what?” you asked, glancing at Seonghwa, who looked more amused by the second.

Hongjoong approached with a sly grin. “I think I need to explain this to my dear sister,” he said, picking up the vase with exaggerated reverence. “These aren’t just crystals, Y/N. These flowers are made of diamonds. And the vase? That’s solid gold.”

Your jaw dropped as the realization hit. “No way,” you breathed, horrified yet slightly in awe.

“Yup, solid gold vase, diamond flowers. You’re engaged to a madman,” Hongjoong teased, handing the vase back to Seonghwa with a smirk.

“Hold on,” you said, still trying to process. “Why would you even…?”

“Y/N being surprised is so funny to me because this probably costs like 0.03% of her net worth,” Yeosang said to Mingi, causing him to gasp in horror while doing the math in his head.

Before Seonghwa could answer you, Wooyoung burst in, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Because of me!” he announced proudly. “We were at Mingi’s bar when Seonghwa was freaking out about what flowers to get you. I joked that he should just give you flower-shaped diamonds since he’s so loaded. And this lunatic actually went and did it!”

“Seriously?” you asked, staring at Seonghwa, who looked entirely unapologetic.

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Why settle for regular flowers when I can give you ones that last forever?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands while the others burst into laughter. “You’re impossible.”

As the evening wore on, the party reached its highlight.

A soft chime rang out, signaling that it was time for the formal announcement. Seonghwa gently took your hand and led you to the center of the garden, where a small stage had been set up. The crowd naturally gravitated toward you, forming a semicircle around the stage.

Seonghwa stepped forward, his hand still holding yours, and addressed the crowd. “Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us on this very special night. Today marks the beginning of a new chapter, not just for me, but for us.” He glanced at you, his gaze tender and full of love.

You felt a wave of warmth, his words wrapping around you like a protective embrace.

“This isn’t just a union of two people,” he continued, “but a blending of families, dreams, and futures. I’m honored and deeply grateful to have Y/N by my side. She’s more than I could ever ask for.”

The guests erupted into applause, some cheering loudly.

He turned to you, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “Would you like to say anything?”

You smiled, stepping closer to the microphone. “Thank you all for being here tonight. This means so much to us. And I want to thank Seonghwa—” you turned to him, your smile growing—“for his patience, his kindness, and for always being someone I can count on. I’m looking forward to spending forever with you.”

The applause grew louder, and you felt Seonghwa’s hand squeeze yours gently.

Champagne glasses were passed around as the announcement concluded, and the guests toasted to your happiness. As you clinked glasses with Seonghwa, he leaned in and whispered, “We have more celebrations tonight.”

You blushed, knowing exactly what he meant. The party continued with dancing, laughter, and endless congratulations, but for you and Seonghwa, the night had already become unforgettable.

-

The time had come. The highly anticipated announcement of your engagement was finally being made. But instead of the usual press conference where personal details were shared, both you and Seonghwa had decided to make the announcement with a joint statement from your companies. It was a more formal, yet still deeply personal, way to publicly confirm your relationship and future plans.

The statement was prepared, the details carefully chosen. Your family’s PR team had worked closely with Seonghwa’s to craft the perfect message, one that emphasized both the personal and professional aspects of your union, highlighting not only your relationship but the strength of the bond between your families and their businesses.

The joint statement was released via your respective companies' official websites and social media accounts, accompanied by a few carefully selected photos of the two of you together. It quickly spread across the business world and social media platforms.

Joint Statement from Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies

It is with great pleasure that we announce the engagement of Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, and Kim Y/N, CEO of Aurum Medical Technologies. The decision to formalize their relationship has been made with the full support of both families, who have worked closely together for many years.

In addition to the personal significance of this engagement, this union also symbolizes the continued partnership between Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies as well as the Celestia Group, solidifying a longstanding collaboration that has benefited both our companies and the broader industry.

While this is a deeply personal milestone for CEO Park Seonghwa and CEO Kim Y/N, both parties are committed to continuing their professional work in their respective roles and furthering the legacies of both businesses. We are excited about the future and look forward to what lies ahead as they embark on this new chapter together.

We would like to express our gratitude for the continued support from all our partners, clients, and stakeholders, and we look forward to sharing more with you in the near future.

The message was clear: the engagement was not just a personal matter but also a business decision, an alliance between two powerful families that would benefit both professionally and personally. The timing was strategic, and the tone of the statement was one of unity, strength, and mutual respect.

The reactions came in waves. The business world buzzed with excitement and curiosity, and the media quickly picked up the announcement. People from all corners of the industry began speculating about the potential ramifications of the union, from its impact on the companies to what it meant for future ventures.

But you and Seonghwa knew that this was just the beginning of the next chapter, both professionally and personally.

After the statement was released, the phones began ringing off the hook. Wooyoung had already fielded countless calls from business partners and investors, all eager to congratulate him and express their support. Your own team was handling a similar influx of calls, from acquaintances to business associates who had all read the news with varying degrees of excitement and curiosity.

Seonghwa glanced at you, his eyes meeting yours with an almost playful intensity. “Well, that went smoothly.”

You grinned, feeling the weight of the moment. “You could say that again.”

“I mean, the hard part’s over now, right?” He chuckled, looking at you with a raised brow.

You raised an eyebrow in return, smirking. “You think so? I think this is just the beginning.”

His smile deepened, and he stepped closer to you, his voice low and teasing. “We’ll see about that.”

The atmosphere between you and Seonghwa shifted, a comfortable silence hanging between you both as you exchanged glances. The buzz of congratulatory messages and business calls surrounding you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in the moment.

Seonghwa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering at your skin. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the business world, the PR statements, and the expectations all melted away. It was just you two.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice a little more serious now, a quiet vulnerability in his tone that you rarely heard.

You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. Your initial response was to make light of it, to tease him, but something about the sincerity in his eyes stopped you. Instead, you answered honestly.

"Yeah," you replied with a small smile. "I am. I'm nervous, though. There’s a lot of pressure, you know?"

Seonghwa nodded in understanding. "I get it. But we’ll take it one step at a time. We’re in it together."

You smiled softly at his words. The comfort in his voice, the way he made sure to acknowledge your feelings even in this whirlwind of changes—it made the idea of marrying him, of officially committing to this, a little less daunting.

"Together," you repeated, the weight of the word settling into your chest. "I think we can handle it."

He took a step closer, his hand resting gently on your waist as he leaned in slightly. "We already are," he said quietly, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back just enough to look at you. "We’ll face whatever comes together. And besides..." He paused, his playful smirk returning. "Planning for the wedding is going to be a breeze compared to what we’ve already been through."

You chuckled, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease. "I have a feeling the real fun’s just about to start."

Seonghwa grinned at that, his eyes alight with mischief. "Oh, I’m sure of it."

End of Part Four.

[mim16s]

Survival in Game

Cho Hyun-ju x Autistic!Fem!Reader

This is part two of Survival in Game. In this chapter, I wanted to explore more of Hyunju and the reader's relationship in a softer, more emotional way. I hope you enjoy it! In the next chapter, we'll dive into the second game of the season.

_____

Part 1:

You held the lunchbox in your hands and, as you walked back to your bed, you saw the woman who had helped you in the last game. Your heart raced a little. You wanted to thank her and also stay close to her. You didn’t fully understand why, but something about her radiated safety. In such an unpredictable place, that was exactly what you needed.

Social interactions had always been challenging for you. Words often got tangled, and people’s expressions didn’t always make sense. But with her, it was different. Something about her seemed calm and welcoming.

Stopping in front of her, gripping your food tightly, you tried to organize your thoughts. She, already eating, paused her meal and looked up at you. There was something comforting in that look of recognition, but now that you were so close, the words vanished from your mind, as they often did in moments of anxiety.

— Do you need something? — she asked kindly, as you looked down at the floor, trying to muster courage.

— I wanted to thank you... for protecting me in the game — you said quickly, bowing in gratitude. Formality helped you organize your speech. When you looked back at her, you noticed a shy smile on her face. It was a soft smile, free of judgment. She looked so beautiful smiling that it made your cheeks flush, something you couldn’t hide very well.

— Don’t worry, you didn’t need to thank me — she replied calmly. You took a deep breath, trying to prepare for what you wanted to say. The anxiety made your head spin.

— I’d like to ask you something — you finally said, seeing curiosity spark in her eyes. — Can I join you? — The question seemed to surprise her, her eyes widening slightly. She was silent for a moment before smiling again, this time more broadly. It had been a long time since anyone sought her company. Since her transition, people preferred to keep their distance. The fact that you had approached her touched her deeply.

— Of course, sit here — she said, moving aside to make room next to her. You sat beside her, still nervous but relieved that you had managed to speak. As you stared at your lunchbox, she broke the silence. — What’s your name? — she asked curiously.

— My name is Y/N. And yours?

— I'm Hyunju — she replied, with another smile that made your mind feel at ease. Unfortunately, the calm was interrupted by shouting. When you looked, you saw three men fighting violently. Your body stiffened immediately, and fear consumed you. Instinctively, you moved closer to Hyunju, seeking the sense of security she exuded. She noticed the fight but made no effort to push you away, letting you stay close.

You had always hated fights. They scared you deeply, bringing back painful memories from your childhood. You remembered when your mother started dating. At first, he seemed like a good person, but he soon revealed his true nature. He not only abused your mother physically but also diminished her emotionally. You watched helplessly, just a child, unable to do anything as she suffered. She tried to shield you, but you always heard the sounds of violence and shouting from your room.

For years, that violence was a constant weight in your life until he tried to do the same to you. That was your mother’s breaking point. She finally realized she needed to protect you and ended the abusive relationship. However, the scars of that period remained. Those years left deep marks, and any sign of violence was enough to make you relive it all.

Now, with your emotions still raw from the game and the deaths you had witnessed, the fight in front of you felt like the last straw. The loud voices, the sudden movements—it was all too much. You covered your ears with your hands, closed your eyes, and began rocking gently, trying to calm yourself and push away the bad memories that kept flooding in.

Beside you, Hyunju noticed your reaction. Initially confused, she observed closely, trying to understand what was happening. Although she didn’t know exactly what to do, it was clear to her that you were scared, and she hesitated for a moment. Then, carefully, she placed a hand on your shoulder, saying nothing but showing she was there.

— Hey, it’s okay. They won’t hurt you — she said, trying to soothe you with her soft voice, but her attempt didn’t seem to help much. You were still caught in your internal storm, hands pressed to your ears, body trembling. Hyunju looked around, trying to think of what to do until an idea came to her.

— Look at me — she said, and you obeyed, your eyes finally meeting hers. — It’s okay, just breathe, alright?

She noticed a slight relief on your face when one of the players intervened and managed to stop the fight. With the commotion settling, she turned her full attention back to you. — It’s okay, repeat after me — she said, guiding you through breathing exercises. She took deep breaths, and you tried to mimic her, following the rhythm she set. Gradually, your body began to relax, but not enough to completely shake off the weight you felt. You instinctively hugged yourself, seeking comfort, which caught Hyunju’s attention.

— Do you need a hug? — she asked in a calm, careful tone. You hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded.

— May I hug you? — she asked again, waiting for your permission. Another affirmative nod. Carefully, Hyunju moved closer and wrapped her arms around you—firm yet gentle. Something about her size and the steadiness of her embrace made you feel safer, as though she could shield you from the world.

You nestled into her chest, breathing deeply as small tears slid down your face. The warmth and protection you felt there gave you the comfort you needed to begin recovering from the episode.

— It’s okay now — she whispered, holding you firmly but without pressure, giving you all the time you needed.

— I’m sorry — you murmured, voice muffled, trying to rein in your emotions.

— There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s okay — she replied softly, tightening the hug slightly, a silent reminder that she was there for you without rush or judgment.

— It’s just... so much has happened, and I couldn’t handle it — you said, sadness evident in every word. The weight of your emotions felt overwhelming, as though everything had built up all at once. Hyunju sighed softly, understanding the depth of the situation.

— I understand — she said gently, her voice calm and reassuring. — There’s so much pressure here. You’ve just seen so many difficult things, and now this fight... it’s completely understandable. You have nothing to apologize for.

Her words, filled with empathy, eased some of the tension you felt. She didn’t blame you for your reaction, and that gave you a little more freedom to process everything in your own time. Her embrace felt like a silent guarantee that she was there to support you—no rush, no judgment.

Later, when it was time to sleep, she lay down on the bed next to yours, her eyes discreetly watching your movements, a silent promise that she would be there for you if you needed her. Despite her exhaustion, Hyunju couldn’t ignore the strange feeling growing within her: an almost instinctive need to protect you.

As the silence of the night enveloped the room, she reflected on everything that had happened. Tomorrow would be another difficult day, another unpredictable game that would put your lives at risk. But one thing she was certain of: she would stay by your side, no matter what.

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 4

A/N: This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Summary: Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut and angst, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sexy thoughts, and some kissing

Word count: ~2.5k

“Bella…”

But it isn't enough.

******

In order to take his mind off of Bella, Elvis leaves for a week in London to settle some estate business and spend time with his friends. When he sets out, all of the staff gather to see him off. Annabelle stands with her hands folded and her eyes on the ground. She's afraid if she looks at him, she'll blush or maybe even pass out cold. He slows down as he passes her, trying to catch her eye, even though he has no idea what he would do if he did. And then, just like that, he's gone.

In the carriage, his mind is consumed with thoughts of Bella refusing to look him in the eye. It's probably good that he'll have some time away. He can't handle another temptation and giving in would ruin them both.

******

In London, Elvis behaves as he usually does, gambling and drinking and generally acting completely unbefitting of his station, but the club he frequents is private and used to this kind of thing from gentlemen from the country.

After a bare-chested boxing match with his best friend Jasper, he finds himself in a perfumed bed in the arms of one of the women who works in the club. She provides a certain service to men who married for expectation rather than romance. Elvis has been with this kind of woman before on his trips to London, but this time he finds himself with a unique problem. The woman, called Bridget, runs her hand over his chest and sighs.

“Is there something on your mind, love?” She coos, her hand drifting down even further. Elvis stops her without thinking and purses his lips. The answer is yes, his mind is filled with Bella and he almost feels like he's being unfaithful here in this bed, but he knows that is absurd. He shakes his head, insisting that he's fine, even though his soft cock gives him away. “You've already paid, love. So why don't you relax and let me help you?”

She leans in and presses her lips to his softly. He closes his eyes and tries to sink into the kiss, but an image of Bella floats up behind his eyelids and he pulls back, almost gagging.

“I can't. I'm sorry.” He lays flat on his back and stares up at the ceiling and Bridget sighs again.

“Who is it that you're in love with?” Her voice has changed from her seductive whisper to one of matter-of-fact conversation.

“I'm not… what? No, that's not…”

“Are you afraid I'll tell your secret? You know what I am.” He turns and looks at her. She's right. No one would listen even if she did try to tell anyone.

“My maid.” He looks back up at the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. “She is the most exquisite creature and I haven't been able to rid my mind of her.”

“Does she feel the same?”

“I don’t know. We haven't… there is only longing. I think she may, but I only know my own heart.” Bridget clicks her tongue and runs her fingers through his hair almost out of habit.

“You poor miserable thing. With only your money to comfort you.” There's an edge of bitterness to her voice.

“I'd give it all up to have her.” He whispers. She softens and turns his chin to look at her.

“Then you have to tell her.”

“I cannot.”

“Then you don't deserve her.” He sits up almost angrily.

“You don't understand. You are free to love whomever you choose. I am bound by obligation to marry someone of my own class.” His eyes are burning and his nostrils flare.

“I couldn't love you.” She says it flatly and understanding settles on him. “But if I did, I would tell you. Love has no thought for the boundaries of society. It gives and takes as it sees fit.”

“Then what do I do about it? Wait for it to pass?” His pain is so genuine that she has a hard time dismissing it.

“Will it?” She cocks her head to the side a little.

“I don't know. I thought it would but here I am in this conversation with you.” He closes his eyes and she puts her hand on his cheek.

“Elvis, will you tell anyone that you were here with me?” He opens his eyes and looks at her, not sure where she's going with this question.

“No.”

“Then why couldn't she be your secret instead of me?” Something akin to hope flickers in his chest. She's right again. Why couldn't Bella be the secret he keeps from the world?

“I hadn't thought of that.” Bridget smiles and runs her hand down his stomach.

“Most of you never do.” She wraps her hand around his flaccid member and then whispers. “Tell me about her.”

Elvis's mind races as he thinks of Bella: her beautiful hands and the cupids bow in her lips that he wants to taste so badly. As more images of her appear in his mind, he hardens and Bridget begins to pump him.

“She's the loveliest woman I've ever seen, dainty and feminine but with a fire and strength I've only ever read about. Her hair is raven-dark and her eyes are deep blue.” He moans softly.

“Good. Close your eyes and keep going.” She strokes him with a little more pressure as his eyes flutter shut.

“She has the sweetest voice and her body…” He whimpers when he thinks of her perfectly round breasts and the curve of her hips under her skirt.

“I'm her. How do you want me?” All of a sudden, it's no longer Bridget's hand on his cock, it's Bella's, and he gasps a little.

“Fully and completely.” Bridget moves herself over his hips, rubbing the tip of him through her folds as he whimpers. “Oh, my Bella.”

He groans as she sinks down onto him and then starts to move. With his eyes closed, he sees Bella, her beautiful body naked, her face rapt with pleasure. Bridget sighs as she fucks him to completion and he moans and whispers Bella’s name with his eyes tightly shut.

When he finishes, he opens them and wants to cry. She's not Bella. Not even close. Bridget sees his expression and kisses his forehead.

“Tell her, Elvis.” He nods silently and pulls away from her, standing to dress himself.

Back in his own bed at the inn, he lays on his side and ignores the tears that slide down his nose. The sick feeling in his stomach makes it impossible to sleep, but he closes his eyes anyway.

******

Annabelle walks through to the kitchen and finds Mrs. Hall in a tizzy.

“What is it?” She asks curiously.

“Mr. Presley will be home this evening. We've just received word that he's on his way.” Annabelle's heart skips.

“He wasn't due home for another three days!” The thought of having him back in the house makes her weak in the knees.

“I know, but he apparently finished his business in London more quickly than he expected. Chop these carrots for me, love.” Mrs. Hall gestures to a pile of carrots on the cutting board and Annabelle goes to work silently. After a few minutes, Mrs. Hall notices her wordlessness. “You seem distraught that he'll be back.”

“Oh, no, I just… am surprised.” She stumbles over the words, embarrassed at being caught.

“Mmm. I was right, wasn't I?” Annabelle pauses her chopping and looks at Mrs. Hall. “There is something between you two.”

“No. There cannot be.”

“Ah, but you'd like there to be.” The older woman smiles knowingly and Annabelle sighs.

“There cannot be.” She repeats it to herself as much as to the cook.

“Love does not care where it cannot be. Now, give me those before you lose a finger.” Mrs. Hall takes the knife and goes to work chopping the carrots herself, dismissing Annabelle to get lost in her thoughts on her own. When she disappears through the door, Mrs. Hall smiles and begins to hum. It'll be good to see her boy happy again.

******

Despite his early return, Annabelle doesn't see Elvis for another couple of days. She goes about her work nervously, secretly praying to see him and afraid to see him all at once. One day Mrs. Davenport notices that she's finishing her work quickly and adds another task. She's to dust several of the rooms in the house every afternoon. Annabelle thinks nothing of this as she begins to work, moving from room to room, but as she approaches the drawing room, she stops dead in her tracks.

Someone is playing the pianoforte. And not just playing it, but playing it beautifully. Curiosity overwhelms her and she pushes the door open carefully. It's him. He's bent over the keys and as she watches, he begins to sing while he plays. His voice is the smoothest baritone she's ever encountered and it makes her heart leap in ways she didn't think possible. She also feels that familiar warmth between her legs and tries to close the door slowly, but it's a heavy door and it closes with a loud thunk. The music stops and she turns to make her way down the hallway quickly but he pulls it open before she gets too far.

“Bella! Wait!” He calls out to her as she slips into the library. When he enters, she's furiously dusting everything she can see, trying to ignore the growing blush on her cheeks and the way her center moistens under her clothes. “Are you hiding from me?”

She stops and takes a deep breath, turning to face him. Somehow, he's even more beautiful than before and it takes everything inside her not to go to him and pull him in close to her.

“No, of course not.”

“You ran away from me.” Elvis is a little hurt that he hasn't seen her. He came home specifically to talk to her and his resolve has melted more and more each day. Still, his encounter with Bridget is heavy in his mind and some determination lingers.

“I'm working.” At that moment, she bumps a porcelain knick-knack and it hits the floor, breaking into several large pieces. “Oh, I'm so sorry, sir.”

He sighs and then walks over, bending down to help her collect the pieces.

“Bella, I thought I asked you not to call me ‘sir’.”

“I'm sorry… Elvis.” He smiles and takes the broken pieces from her hands.

“That's better.” They both stand up and he sets the broken object on the end table. For a second they just stare at each other again. All of a sudden, his nerve is lost and he has no idea what to say. She's just about to turn away when he blurts out. “Do you like to read?”

“I do. More than anything.” She answers him quietly.

“Novels?”

“Some. Mostly poetry.” He can't help but smile widely as he walks to a shelf and pulls down a book.

“Have you read this?” She walks closer and looks at the volume he's holding.

“Wordsworth? I love Wordsworth.” His face is one of complete adoration and he tries desperately not to sweep her into his arms.

“And then my heart with pleasure fills–”

“-And dances with the daffodils.” She finishes the line he started and he nods. They continue this exercise through three more books before he pulls a tiny book of poems from his breast pocket.

“What about this one?” He hands it to her and she holds it, noticing all the dog-eared pages and notes in the margin.

“No, not this one.”

“It's yours, then. My favorite is on page 42.” His heart is racing when he thinks of what he's scribbled there, but in this moment he's so full of love for her that he doesn't even care if she sees it. He wants her to see it, needs her to see it.

She looks at him with her heart beating loudly in her chest. It's a book of love poems. Her hands tremble slightly as she turns to page 42. There, at the top, in his handwriting: For my Bella.

He steps closer to her as she reads, the blood thick in his veins, rushing everywhere but his brain.

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?

She looks up at him as she reads the last line and he's so close she can feel him breathing. Her chest rises and falls quickly and his eyes flit down to her lips. She's afraid she might faint as he reaches out carefully and takes her cheek in his hand.

“What is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?” He whispers the last line. Her eyes flick between his and then down to his mouth as he moves toward her painfully slowly. She should stop him, but she's frozen on the spot.

Finally, his lips graze hers so softly that it's barely a kiss. But he doesn't stop there. He kisses her again, with a little more pressure, his lips parted with his tongue cautiously moving ever-so-slightly, but he doesn't taste her yet. Not until the third kiss, when she drops the book of poetry and throws her arms around his neck. He wraps himself around her waist and dives in fully into a kiss so deep and so intense that they both get lost below the waves of it. Their bodies are pressed together and their tongues move in a symphonic dance and they both forget to breathe. After what feels like an eternity, but isn't nearly long enough, they pull apart breathlessly. He tries to press his forehead to hers, but she backs away.

“Elvis, I can't.”

“Bella, please–”

“No. I'm sorry!” Her voice is heavy with tears as she turns and runs from the room.

“Bella!” He yells after her, but she's gone. He bends down and picks up the book of poems and then turns and throws it at the wall. Sinking into a chair, he runs his hands in his hair and tries to hold back the tears. He looks up at the ceiling as they start to fall and whispers. “Bella, please.”

She stands on the other side of the door, her body wracked with sobs as she weeps uncontrollably. When she hears him whisper her name again, she drops to her knees.

“Oh, Elvis.” She whispers it like a prayer, her hand on her heart as she rocks back and forth in agony.

******

What will happen next?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ahundredlifetime @claire-elvisgirl @ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[justkitkatthings]

This but reader had been put on a different team…https://www.tumblr.com/justkitkatthings/768357089618903040/i-know-this-isnt-possible-but-just-hear-me-out-a

have a great day or night! 💋

I have several thoughts…

Thank you for being my first anon and ilysm

You’re a genius

I’m so so so so very sorry I took so long to answer this! I really wanted to get this done sooner but I’ve had serious writers block (or laziness idk) and just a bunch of personal shit going on, so getting this done is like a belated Christmas/new year’s/birthday present to myself

I can’t promise this’ll be as good as this was, I feel like I used all my good writing abilities up on that haha

Have a great day or night to you too 🩷

———

After losing your leg, you never thought you’d work for anything military affiliated again. Okay, well, maybe as a civilian admin person, but never in the field. But, with a LOT of physical therapy… and mental therapy… and retail therapy… it was like you were as good as new!

So, when Laswell called, you answered. There was an opening in a new Task Force, and they wanted you. You haven’t felt this way since… well, since John, Kyle, and Johnny. But now, they dint have to consume your every living thought. You can begin again.

It wasn’t long before you were on a new base, in a new country, with a new team.

They were all extremely welcoming, albeit different. You had to get used to the change in personalities and strategies, but it was refreshing to get new perspectives on things.

Months of training and bonding with your new team go by, and less contact with the 141. You’ve by no means forgot about them, but you don’t think about them as much anymore. You’re happy, and they need to respect that.

But when have those boys ever been good at leaving you alone? Never. Which is how you end up here, staring them down as your new Captain greets John, the Captain of the team you’ll be working alongside for the next however long.

You can’t stand this. Why couldn’t they just let you have one thing for yourself for ONCE?

The best way to handle this, you decided, was to not. Avoiding them was simple and easy, so you did it.

On the occasions you couldn’t avoid them, like missions, all your interactions were short and professional. There was no hint of the connection you had all shared.

The lieutenant who replaced you was big and stoic, but his was also a dumbass. Sure, it was an improvement in physical strength (which you were definitely NOT jealous of), but it was a loss in stealth and just common fucking sense.

Like, how can this man look you in the eyes and not realize you were his predecessor that the team still talked about? You hate him and his big muscles. Those very same muscles that eventually saved you from losing your other leg.

At first, you were pissed when he pinned you. But then the explosion happened.

There was a loud, obnoxious ringing in your ears, but at least you weren’t passed out, unlike the big oaf on top of you.

John helped pull him off of you and waited with you both until medevac came. Every protest from you was countered by your old Captain. He just wants you to be alright, luvie, relax.

Reluctantly, you did, enough to fall asleep. The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was the blinding white lights of the hospital. When that faded, you saw John and your new Captain whispering to each other in the corner of the room, sending worried glances… past you? You weakly turned your head to look, and it was Simon, covered in bandages.

[bloomzone]

2025: #10 take care of your mind

your brain is the most powerful tool you will ever own. YOUR BRAIN IS MORE POWERFUL THAN UR PHONE, LAPTOP ... . Yet how many of us actually take care of it? How many of us think twice about what we feed it, how we use it, or how we let it rest? u don’t rise to the level of your dreams you fall to the level of your mind. And if your mind isn’t sharp, disciplined, and protected, you’re setting yourself up for failure.

✒️..You’re probably wondering: “What does it mean to take care of my brain?” It’s simple but not easy. First, let’s talk about what you’re consuming EEEEVRY single thing you watch, listen to or read is planting seeds in your mind. Are you planting weeds or flowers? Scroll endlessly on social media, filling your brain with nonsense, comparison, and negativity—guess what? You’re planting weeds, and they will grow. Your thoughts become your beliefs, and your beliefs become your actions.

THE TRUTH IS you are what you allow into your mind. If you keep surrounding yourself with negativity, if you keep replaying the same self-doubt, if you keep absorbing content that doesn’t serve you don’t be surprised when you feel stuck, overwhelmed, or anxious. You’re not broken you’re just fueling yourself with the wrong things.

"So, what do you do?"

1. Detox your mind. Cut out the noise. Start filtering what you consume. Unfollow accounts that drain your energy. Stop watching content that makes you feel small. And for the love of everything pookie stop engaging in drama—it’s not worth the space it takes up in your head.

2. Feed your brain the right fuel. Read books that challenge you. Listen to podcasts that inspire you. Surround yourself with people who uplift you. And no, this isn’t just some feel-good advice it’s about wiring ur brain for growth. The more you surround yourself with knowledge, positivity, and action-oriented energy, the more your brain starts working for you instead of against you.

3. Train your focus. Your brain is a muscle. If you don’t train it, it gets lazy. Meditation isn’t just for monks it’s for anyone who wants to build laser-like focus. Start small—two minutes a day. Sit down, breathe, and let your mind rest. Because a rested brain is a powerful brain.

4. Protect your energy it mean it’s about who you let into your space. People can either fuel your fire or extinguish it. If someone in your life constantly drags you down, you need to set boundaries. Your mental energy is sacred. Guard it fiercely.

🪧-FACT BOX !

『When you kick unhealthy habits to the curb, your brain actually starts to thrive! Imagine cutting out constant stress it’s like a weight lifted off your mind, lowering cortisol levels and giving your memory and learning a boost. Eating betteeeeer and healthier cuz those omega-3s and antioxidants help reduce brain fog while also cranking up serotonin and dopamine, the feel-good chemicals that keep you motivated and happy. Regular exercise is like a power-up for your brain, releasing endorphins and encouraging the growth of new neurons. It’s like giving your mind a fresh start every day (try to wake up early and do any type of exercise and u will see how well ur day will roll) Sleep is another secret weapon—by getting enough (6-7 or even 8 )you’re helping your brain detox and organize memories, keeping everything sharp. And let’s not forget about avoiding things like alcohol and drugs—this keeps your brain’s reward system in check and prevents it from burning out or killing you lmaooo .. All these changes together supercharge your brain, boosting focus, creativity, and mental strength. Your brain will thank you!』

@bloomzone ❕

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

from a thoughtful elriel piece, to this silly fest. Me in a nutshell. sorry guys, I could not find a movie reference for this one nailing the date pace killed me, I wanted to be organic, but not boring, but comical, but not too much, and here comes cass/mor screams into the void so here's a pretty pic of breadticks 😬

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 5: Not the girl you are used to

 “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No.”

“Do you honestly believe you can trick me into saying yes?”

Cassian grinned like an idiot, thumb swiftly skating on his phone keyboard, texting God knows who. “You used to fall for that.”

One would think he wasn’t so interest in the conversation, but Azriel knew his brother, could read the tension on his unstoppable tapping feet, the nervous twirl of the watch on his wrist, the childish attempt to beat him by exhaustion. Azriel ignored him. Cass could try all he wanted, but he was not agreeing to this insanity.

Tablet perched on his knee, he continued to work through a selection of garment choices for the winner of the Revelation Designer Award to choose from.

You see, Azriel didn’t believe in unpredictable events, because that would mean he wasn’t prepared for the “incident” happening, and Azriel was always prepared. In order to be ready, he spent a copious amount of time building back-up plans, which had proven to came in had along the years. His, wasn’t the least stressful way of managing a department, but sure was an efficient one. Needless to say he had nearly to none free time. Cassian, on the other hand, seemed to have a lot to spare, deciding to dedicate a part of his day into trying to annoy Azriel to submission.

Azriel had no interested in satisfying his brother’s current itch. A cunning, blond haired itch, who he also had no intention of getting involved with anymore. That’s why he was using this meaningless reunion - more of a one-on-one with his brother - to look through the strongest candidates’ portfolios, selecting D-Day outfits.

“Come one man, you are not thinking this straight. She’s the hottest model these days, runway elite.” Cassian moved forward, pushing a video of Morrigan in Azriel’s face, braving her latest runway in goddamn lacy red lingerie. Her color. Nope, do not go there. “She’ll be a good addition to our catalog.”

Azriel averted his eyes, crossing a giant ‘X’ in the current dress with a little more strength than necessary, the pen scratching the glass. Nope. He’d not be looking either.

“Hiring her for a sporadic shoot is doable, signing an exclusivity contract is dumb, a waste of money. She’s a runaway model, we’d have to compensate her that, pay her contract breaching, pay her even when she’s not working. You are the money man Cass, you know is not worth it.”

“She’s so fucking hot, tho. Trust me when I say she’ll raise our sales. Who wouldn’t want to see a hot girl getting delivery to their home monthly? Hell, I’d sign our magazine.”

"You don't sign our magazine?"

"Why would I sign our magazine?"

Azriel rubbed his forehead, the familiar pressure of a stress-induced headache making itself know.

That’s why his brother managed the money, not the people. The only people he got involved with, were the ones with an ass he was interested in tapping. And that is why he was pushing Azriel to sign an exclusivity contract with Morringan, as if they were a fucking model agency. Cassian might have the CEO position, but thankfully their grandfather left them the same amount of shares. Over his dead body he’d bring Morrigan closer.

“Marinos isn’t about hotness. We are a fashion magazine, Cass. A collection doesn’t sell itself simply by being clothes, is all about how we display them, the ambience, the models. It’s an art of luring the public into seeing themselves in the pages. We have to be diverse, keep it fresh.

“She is fresh!” Cassian argued, leaving his phone on the small table between them, tapping aggressively on the screen, the video rolling. “Look at her. She approaching that milf zone which makes her extra bangable to horny teens.” He held his hands up, palms flat in the air, making the universal sign of a balance. “They enhance their spank bank; we double our sales. It’s a win-win.”

Azriel slapped his brother’s phone face down, his disdain palpable. How Cass could address to someone, who he claimed to be in a serious relationship with, in such a way, was beyond him.

“You are disgusting. And she doesn’t have kids.”

Cassian laughed. “You don’t need kids to be a milf, baby bro,” he enunciated the words as if Azriel was slow. “You only need to be past a women’s prime, which we all know is in her twenties, and still be freakishly hot. Have you seen Mor? Check and check. We like to pretend they are a hot mom without the burden of a bastard running around.” Cassian winked, taking his phone. “Besides, Mor won’t be working much longer. I counting on you to help me make her retirement transition easier.”

Azriel stiffed on his chair.

Morrigan was doing what?

Bubbling laughter erupted from him, tears sliding down the corners of his eyes. Cassian stared at him as if he was insane. My god, he didn't laugh like this in ages. Morrigan would never retire, she loved her job more than life itself. That girl would probably die in a runway, her stone-cold heart finishing its complete transition into a block of ice.

"Are you having a stroke?" Cassin asked, confused.

“Did she tell you that? Did she say she was retiring?”

“She doesn’t have to tell everything, baby bro. Her man knowns.” Her man thought he leashed the untamable Morrigan. Her man knew shit. “She’s turning 34 soon,” Azriel knew that already, they were the same age, “it’s time.”

"Time for what?"

"For her retirement."

“You are so full of shit. Morrigan won't retire, she loves her job.” It’s the only thing she loves. “She won’t quit. She’ll never quit.”

Cassian slouched on the chair, spreading his legs to assert dominance.

“You are full of opinions about Mor today.”

“We were childhood friends. I believe I can judge her inability to drop her career for a man.”

The brothers have met Morrigan when they first moved to America to live with their grandparents. Their grandma quickly pairing Mor and Azriel in the same classes and extracurricular activities. Cassian was around too, but didn’t had much interest for the younger girl in pigtails running around with his brother. She sure had his attention now, wheater she liked it or not.

“Trust me, Mor is settling down. She has a man now, a provider, no need to tire herself crossing the globe all year long. Don’t give me that face. I’m telling you how man thinks.”

“I am a man.” Azriel stressed.

“You are, aren’t you. For a second there I had my doubts.” Cassian mused, remembering how he caught his brother getting cozy with Elain inside the elevator, their ride from hell…

Cassian scratched his stubble, contemplating the recent changes in Azriel's behavior.

His stoic brother, who could not get along with any women introduced to him, scaring them away with his blunt remarks and cold indifference, had been uncharacteristically catering to the girl who used to eye-fuck Cassian from across the room, giving him sunny smiles and entertaining him with dirty jokes. Now her looks where few and further apart, Elain hiding her snort behind her hand instead of giving him a full belly laughter, avoid responding to his innuendos with something dirtier, as she usually would. An unexplainable queasiness twisted in his stomach.

“Speaking of being a man. You and Lainy,”

"Elain.” Azriel corrected with annoyance. “Her name is Elain, not this ridiculous nasal stretch you do.”

“You and Lainy are close now, huh.” Cassian repeated the nickname to spite him, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the arm rest. “Close enough for you to take her home… mouth fuck under the moonlight...”

“Jesus Christ.” Azriel rubbed his face, wishing to be anywhere but here. “Your vocabulary is superb Cass, keep it up.”

“What? You were the one dry humping the girl in front of everyone.”

“No one was dry humping, your sick fuck. I don’t know what you do in your relationship, but us, normal folks, we can kiss for the sake of it, no hidden agenda.” Azriel was not cut out for the lifestyle his brother led. To kiss and bed anyone without knowing where their mouths and body might have been before? No thank you. Hard pass.

“You seriously dating the girl?” Azriel nodded, once. Cassian snorted. “Bullshit. I never saw you with a single girlfriend.”

Azriel watched his brother, his restless hand. His brow furrowed. Were Cassian and Elain closer than he anticipated? He knew they were friends, but this. This was something else.

“I didn’t see you either, now look at you.” He eyed the shinning gold band on his brother finger. A commitment ring. Ten years and he couldn’t get Mor to even address him as her fucking boyfriend, but one month was apparently enough to date his brother and get a ring stuck in her finger. Her words, not his.

“People will notice.”

“Say it a regular ring. I’ll get you an inconspicuous one.”

“I can’t have a ring constantly stuck in my finger, Az, it will give me tan lines. People will notice.”

“It’s different. I’m chick magnet, didn’t had a girlfriend by choice, fucked plenty of them, tho." His smug was presumptuous. "You, on the other hand, I never saw you with anyone. Why now? Why her?”

Because Elain is capable of shutting my mind down, she rambles so much I can’t hear myself thinking, can’t think about girls I shouldn’t be thinking. Because Elain made a crazy suggestion when I needed a light. Because Elain is the first woman I enjoyed kissing in a long time. Because Elain doesn’t make me hate myself. Because I want to live like a normal man being loved by a normal woman.

Azriel didn’t voiced the answers. None of them were for his brother’s peace of mind. His deal with Elain was private, there was no need to explain the reasons that bound them to Cass.

“You are awfully interested in my girlfriend.”

“Can you blame me? We figured you’d be coming out of the closet any day now. Then puff, you appear with a girlfriend.”

Azriel glared at him.

“I’ve told you, I’m not gay.”

“Well, now I know that. Cousin Rhys will be thrilled to know he won.”

“You and Rhys made a bet on me?" Cassian grinned. "Assholes.”

Hell yeah he bet on him. Azriel had always been a weird kid, full of don’t-touch-me, all worried about wrinkles on his clothes. Plus, the fact that never introduced a single girl to them, never talked about hook up, or dates, or dalliances of any kind was very suspicious. Cassian sat straighter in his chair, an idea occurring to him.

“Wait. Is this one of those fake-dating situations? You and Rhys working together?”

Okay, Azriel had enough. His brother had nothing of important to discuss, and he had a lot of work to do. He collected his things and got up.

“Damn, little Lainy sure is a good actress. I didn’t know she had it in her.”

Azriel flipped his brother on his way out.

.

.

.

“Marino. For two.”

The girl behind the small reception desk checked her system, confirming Azriel’s reservation.

“Follow me, please.”

Elain and Azriel walked behind the petite receptionist as they quietly moved between the tables filled with families, co-workers, friends, couples. Elain looked down to their joined hands. Azriel had taken a hold of hers soon as they were out of the car, Elain stopping dead in her track.

“What are you doing?”

“Building intimacy.”

“Over here.” The girl lead them to a round table by the window.

Tall framed glass from floor to ceiling, gave them a perfect view of the garden where the structure was built around, a magnificent fountain shooting jets in the sky, water lilies floating unbothered. Azriel pulled her chair and Elain sat down, nervous butterflies beat their wings desperately in her stomach, trying to break free. The girl gave them a set of menus, politely explaining that a waitress would take over.

Elain glanced discreetly at the other tables, trying to figure if theirs was the only one without breadsticks or if this place was too fancy to give them free munchables.

“What?” Azriel asked, following her gaze.

“Breadsticks,” she muttered.

She must have given him glutton vibes, because his eyes crinkled with amusement.

“We can order some if you’d like.”

"You a regular?" He shook his head.

"First timer. Didn't seem appropriate to take you to places I know." Did he want to keep her like a dirty little secret? Would you look at that. Elain was opening her mouth when he said, "I don't want us to make memories in soiled land. I rather start fresh, just you and I."

Elain closed her mouth. Oh, that's actually thoughtful. Her ears pinked on the tips, Azriel returning his eyes to the menu, thick black lashes nearly brushing his cheeks. Elain spied his new haircut, the slight fade on the sides making the perfect shape of his ears stand out, the glossy waves on top combed back in a stylish manner.  He looked particularly handsome tonight, reading the menu with the same keen attention he’d give to a report, as if analyzing steak options required a minuntious evaluation of each option presented. Elain got so lost studying him that when the waitress came, she was yet to choose an option.

Azriel made his order with mastery, adding a bottle of wine by the year. Elain was impressed. She generally chose her wine by category; red or white. She fumbled with the menu, grieving at the lack of breadstick or fries. The waitress took pity on her, helping her though the most requested dishes, asking for her preferences in meat, finding her the perfect dish to order.  

When she was gone, Azriel said.

“I booked us a hotel.”

Elain gasped exaggeratedly, wrapping her arms around her chest in a fake show of modesty. “How dare you? I’ve told you I’ll marry a virgin!”

The table beside their, containing what appear to be a squad of girlfriends in a night out, threw them suspicious glances, whispering heatedly amongst themselves. Azriel rolled his eyes.

“For the RD Award.” He reminded her. Elain needed no remind, she knew exactly what he meant, and she had no interest in it right now.

“Noooooo.” she let out a long-suffering whine, making him frown.

“Did you want to do that?”

“Don’t talk to me, I’m in mourning.” She used the napkin in her lap to dab the corners of her eyes, fake hiccups to match her fake tear. “I can’t believe I’m dating a man who talks about work on a night out. Lord, why have you forsaken me!”

A couple of snickers could be heard from the next table. Azriel rubbed his neck to mask his embarrassment, because her taunt was reasonable. He’d done it out of habit, used to interact with Elain in work related matters.

Despite is energetic disposition when it came to fashion, Azriel was an introvert who didn’t have much interest in anything else. In the past decade his life could be resumed in two things: Marinos and her. Azriel didn’t like people, didn’t have many friends, didn’t left his house unless he was working, didn’t travel unless he wanted to see her. After having to spend five days a week interacting with his employees, giving orders, creating back-up plans, correcting mistakes and solving endless problems, Azriel was perfectly fine spending his free time napping, eating home-made food, nursing a glass while a documentary rolled on the tv. It's how he recharged his energy. And for the dating department…

Truth be told, Azriel was a little rusty on the dating department. On the rare dates he agreed to go, he didn’t have to speak much, the women pretty content in talking about themselves, batting their lashes at him, intrigued by his silence, which they interpreted as a bad boy persona. They've read him wrong. Azriel wasn’t a bad boy, he didn’t have spare energy to invest in being one. Most times he was simple exhausted, uninterested, heartbroken, trying to distract himself to not think about her, trying to forget the woman who wasn’t a good parameter for quality time either.

Her name still caused him pain.

Mor.

He avoided using it, addressing her by the full name when necessary.

When he was with her, he was her secret, and he had to remain just that, a secret. Back them Azriel did lots of confidential encounters, last minute trips to where she’d be modeling, booking extravagant hotels for the pleasure of her company, appealing to secluded resorts if he wanted to see her outside a room, because their outings consisted in gathering with her friends, fund raisings and galas. Non-committal events that wouldn't put her in a spot she didn't want, because God forbid they were out, let’s say, enjoying a good meal, and someone spotted them.

“Now is not the time. My sponsors don’t like this kind of public attention. You know how prissy they are.”

“I’ve signed a no-dating clause, Az. I’ve told you that.”

“Please, please take me back. I won’t sign the clauses anymore, I’ll demand freedom in my personal life. I’m famous now, they have to listen to me!”

“Stop pressuring me! You are making me look like a villain. Look at everything I’ve done for you! They could sue me for being with you. Is that what you want? For me to be sue? Shunned from the spotlight?!”

“I’m sorry, Az. I’m really sorry. I don’t want it anymore; I don’t want to be a model if I can’t have you. I love you. You are my life.”

Elain rapped her knuckles gently on the table, giving him a worried look.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked gently.

Azriel sipped his water.

“That you are correct.”

Elain doubted. His expression had turned a little wistful, his shoulders sagging slightly. She decided not to comment on it, taking his lead to move the subject forward.

Azriel watched Elain sat higher in her chair, smugness pouring out of her. “That’s usually the case, but I’m glad you are finally admitting.” Her napkin went back to her lap. "Keep that energy when you wake up in the morning."

Azriel chuckled.

In the past, Azriel had judged Elain an airhead. Her eccentric persona and taste for crude jokes was far to similar to his brother’s, who couldn’t read the room to save his life. Cassian though himself the guru of flirting, but his inappropriate conducts had often rendered complains, Azriel having to arrange anti-harassment lectures to please the chief of HR. Azriel thought Cass would outgrow this childish fascination with making people uncomfortable as he grow older. He thought wrong. Turns out age was nothing but fuel to his shameless brother.

That’s why Azriel was instantly peeved with Elain, who strolled in his life with swaggering confidence and a sharp remark for everything, deeming her a female version of the brother who gave him constant headaches. Azriel was wrong again, but this time he was please to be. Now the paid her more attention, Azriel noticed Elain didn’t carry the same arrogant obliviousness as Cass. She was witty, outspoken, brazen even, having no problem in standing up to herself or what she believed, but she only joked around those closer to her, using her humor to make people at ease, to let them know she cared for them.

Sparkling chocolate eyes smiled at him.

Empathy wasn’t something Azriel was used to. It made him lightheaded.

Elain watched Azriel place one hand on top of the table, palm up, wiggling his long sumptuous fingers at her, the bronzed moisturized skin gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “Have I told you how lovely you look today?”

The word “lovely” coming out of his sinuous lips was enough to have her heart doing cartwheels. Her heart was a tramp. The useless lump of overly excited muscle had no business trying to beat out of her chest when Elain had put an extra effort in her appearance today. Gone were her everyday jeans and t-shirt, replaced by an elegant sage lily dress, the elastic ruched fabric ending with small ruffles around her knees, her pearl colored flats matching the pearl clips keeping her curls behind her ears, small sparkling dot adorning them.

Elain planted her palm in his. “Are you implying I don’t look lovely on the other days?”

“Would you drop dead if you spent a day of your life without contradicting me?” His voice lacked the usually annoyed undertone, his thumb tracing the path of her knuckles.

“Guess you’ll never find out.”

Elain put her free hand down as he had done, asking for his other hand, mimicking the strokes he gave her. Damn, this man’s hands were smooth as a baby bottom!.. is the rest of him this soft? Her thoughts slipped in a dirty tangent.

“I like your shirt.” The material of his dress shirt stretched comfortably over his chest, draping over his powerful arms, to end carefully folded around his elbows, leaving his forearms bare in a way he rarely did. The last time she had seen him sporting such a casual disposition, he stole her breath away. Literally. Elain licked her lips, her voice lower. “Black looks good on you.”

His lips tugged in the corner. “It is my color.”

“It is," she agreed in a daze

A tranquil atmosphere settled over them.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Mmh.”

“I'm glad I kissed you.”

Now she was full on blushing, her cheeks growing incredibly hot, especially when he lifted her hand to his face and kiss her palm. So, Elain did what she do best to mask embarrassment. She cracked a joke.

“My, my. I didn’t know you had it so bad. Tell me mister, how long have you been in love with me?”

“I’m not.” Azriel kissed her other palm, his gaze so intense she squirmed in her chair. Under the artificial light his eyes were all hazel, the fleeks of green hiding, waiting for the sunlight to unravel. “But I intend to be.”

[tardis--dreams]

Girl you gotta write your term paper and not cry about your poor life choices

[muntitled]

Protecting His Investment

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one gets to hurt you except him.

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Implied Violence, Age gap, God Complex, Brainwashing, Psychopathy, Murder, Blood, Gore, Codependency, Yandere!Salesman, Stalking, Smut (+18) mdni, Voyeurism, Blood Kink, Sadomasocism, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Blood Play, fingering, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Punishments, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Squirting, Overstimulation

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume.

This can be read as a continuation of this fic but not strictly

“Shouldn't I be blindfolded?"

If it weren't for the silence simmering between you both, in this monotonous taxi drive, he might’ve not heard you at all and perhaps you should have been more careful with your choice of wording but you were feeling a tiny bit reckless this Wednesday afternoon. He hadn't ever offered to personally fetch you from campus, and you felt incredibly juvenile when you spotted him standing there like a dad, in his grown-up suit while his briefcase hung in his hands in front of him. You'd almost convinced yourself that you were imagining things. That somehow your obsession with the man who kidnaps you every Wednesday to fulfill all his messed up fantasies was truly taking a toll on your mental health.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he was real. And he had come to pick you up and you were feeling awfully giddy as he ushered you both into a taxi while a few of your peers stood and stared.

By now he would've blindfolded you. Keeping you completely clueless to the location he brings you to every Wednesday. See, your Salesman had myriad deep rooted issues. Mania. Sociopathy. Sadism. But the issue that irked you the very most was his inability to trust. Before you know it, you're pouting up a storm as you ask him. "Why aren't we using the blindfold today?"

He slowly removes his gaze from the window, where he had been pondering like the old man he is. He quirks up an eyebrow, letting the intensity of his attention wash completely over you.

"Would you like to be blindfolded?" He asks playfully. His eyes are sparkling with amusement and his lips are quirked up like it usually is when he's being sardonic. Still, you remain cautious as you lean forward. You send one quick glance to the taxi driver, wondering if you were being led in some kind of hearse on the road to your death.

"A-Are you going to kill me?" For the first time, cold, white fear ices the warm blood rushing through your veins. Come to think of it, he did seem far chirpier than usual. Perhaps that should have been your first warning. The flags were blood red but you were wearing rose-tinted glasses.

He only snickers before placing a heavy hand on your head, patting it down.

He doesn't answer you for the duration of the taxi drive, causing you to slip more and more into your thoughts of morbidity and despair. Why else wouldn't he blindfold you if not to end your life once you got there? It seemed dreadfully logical and so on-brand for him. He'd get bored of you sooner or later and then he'd dispose of you. There'd be no need to blindfold you any longer while he took you to his place because you'd soon become a corpse and-

"Doll." The voice cuts through the chatter filling your brain. All at once, the car has stopped, and warm air rushes into the interior as he holds the door open for you. "Get out of the nice man's car." He jests politely, quickly prompting you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the taxi.

The second you're out he walks ahead of you. The building that comes into focus before you have your brows crinkling.

You quickly catch up to him, gazing up at his monotonous face. "Why are we here? You never come to my house."

He doesn't respond as you both walk into the foyer. He walks briskly and powerfully, like a man on the move while you send a small wave to the security manning the front desk. You both enter an empty elevator and he presses a button without you ever having to tell him which floor.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

He lowers his gaze to you, one eyebrow quirked up.

"You only die when you disappoint me and as of late," he stares directly ahead, "You haven't disappointed me."

The elevator dings and he steps out. You follow him like a puppy without a leash. "In fact I'd say your work ethic as of late has been-" he blows out a long sigh as he makes it your apartment door- recalling all the weeks you two have spent together in vivid kaleidoscopic images. All the pain you let him inflict on you and pleasure he'd offer as a reward.

"-nothing short of stellar. I'm proud of you." He punches in the code to your apartment and you both enter. The curtains are drawn shut because your roommate hates sunlight. You preferred it but there was no communicating with something like her.

He kicks off his shoes at the door.

"What are we doing here?" You ask nervously, "My roommate will be back soon and she isn't very nice."

"We won't be playing at my place today." He says finally meeting your wild and nervous eyes. He seems so lax and so in control. "We'll be playing here."

"B-But my roommate."

"Is that why you were crying?" His gaze keeps you rooted to the floors, unable to move even if you wanted to, "Because of your roommate?"

"Crying? I wasn't crying-"

"Back at the university," he says, casually removing a microscopic piece of lint from his grey blazer, "Your head was beant and you looked up at me with bloodshot eyes." His eyes shine with amusement as he says, "Usually with our sessions, the crying only comes later on." Then he quirks his head and asks, "What happened?" There's a bang somewhere in the apartment and your head snaps forward. Your eyes scan over the adjoining living room and kitchen but he seems unfazed.

"It's stupid-" you shake your head, "Like who even still gets bullied in uni?"

You laugh pitifully, leaning against the nearest wall. He stands tall before you. A brick wall.

"Your roommate's threatening to kick you out of this apartment to move her boyfriend in?" He asks before adding, "Again."

Your head snaps up to him, "H-How-"

In that moment, he turns rather robotically, making his way deeper into your home. It's clean. Thank God.

"You don't realize how chatty you get when you're about to orgasm." He says before stopping right outside your closed bedroom door.

"My roommate- she... decided last night that- well- she would really like her boyfriend to live here instead-"

"Without consulting you first?" He clarifies, staring blankly ahead at the door, listening very attentively.

"Y-Yes without consulting me." You bring your hand to the doorknob, on your way to open it but he stops you with an iron grip around your wrist. You wince.

“Continue talking.” He says and you do.

"This morning they both kinda sprung on me that they'd like to be living here now. She went behind my back and already placed the deposit down our landlord, well," you clear your throat. "I might be homeless soon." You laugh but then swallow very thickly as the gravity of the situation falls onto your shoulders.

"And still you decided to have our sessions today?"

"If you'll have me," you nod.

"Remarkable." He replies. "Well I've never been very fond of my things or my toys getting dirty." He begins mysteriously as he places his hand directly over yours on the doorknob.

"Pardon?"

"I can't have my favorite toy living out on the street. Who knows what kind of animals would try to rape you or drug you or fucking stick their slimey dicks inside you-" he turns the doorknob, clicking your room open.

You're not even sure when this started happening. These 'private sessions' with your Salesman that quickly bled into something much more concerning. Before you knew it, he was seeping into your brain, polluting you with obsession. There had never ever been anyone else involved.

"What the hell did you do?" You ask, slowly entering your room to find two chairs placed directly in front of your bed. As soon as you enter, you hear the blood curdling, muffled screams being ripped from the throat of the two people strapped to those chairs.

"I'm protecting my investment," Says your Salesman as he pushes the door closed behind you.

Your feet feel like lead as you watch them and their panic-stricken eyes. There in front of you, they sit opposite one another, both with a haggard countenance and tears streaming down their cheeks.

At the sight of you, your roommate screams something horrid but it's muffled by the gag placed in her mouth, a gag the shape of a dog bone.

He's there too. The boyfriend. He's not as loud or as frantic as she is but he's significantly startled. His eyes are wild and vacant. The same gag.

"Oh my god-" you begin but he cuts in front of you, making his way to the couple seated across from each other.

"We're all gonna play a game- a quick one," He says, "Can't play for too long because I've been dying to get inside you since I saw those pretty little bloodshot eyes."

"Sir- I"

If you knew his name you might've screamed it in this moment. 'Sir' is your only point of reference to address the manic man in front of you.

This isn't right.

Right?

You're so confused, you barely register than you've thought out loud. It hits you as he slowly shrugs his blazer off.

"What isn't right is them thinking they can rape this apartment from underneath you." He says, folding it and placing it meticulously over your desk.

"I- have neighbors!?" You begin but he has a plan for that too.

"I had your room soundproofed since our first session." You're pushed into even more confusion.

"WHAT!? When did you even-"

"While you were at school-" he says before uncovering a handgun from his briefcase. A handgun and a silencer.

"Point is, Doll, I'm going to need you to play a game for me, ok?"

"DOLL!?" Comes your roommates' mortified and muffled cries.

"I need you to make one tiny decision for me." He says, screwing on the silencer onto the barrel of the revolver. It strikes you then that even when the mask is off, and the worst workings of his personality are on display for all to gaze upon, you still find him breathtakingly attractive.

"If-" tears burn the back of your throat, "If this room is soundproof why-why do you need a silencer?"

"I'm nothing if not a cautious man, you know this." Then his expression turns very grave and very dark as he says. "Don't you?"

“Yes, Sir,” you reply almost automatically. Like your need to respond to him- to please him, greatly overpowered your moral compass. “You're extremely cautious.”

Your roommate releases a shrill noise from the very back of her throat, her eyes pleading with the humanity she desperately tries to find in yours.

“Out of these two, he's my least favourite,” Your Salesman says, standing beside you. Eyes wild as he points his gun to the boyfriend's head.

“But this isn't about me,” he turns to face you, slowly dragging you gaze away from the victims that had once been your tormentors. You look up at him with a broken sob slipping through your lips. “I need you to choose.”

There it is.

His words seem to detonate what little fate you had in his humanity. There is nothing in his eyes except hedonism and violence.

"I'm going to have you to choose very quickly, baby-”

You're already shaking your head as frazzled braids tickle your shoulders. Your eyes find theirs and you immediately say, “I'm not going to do it.”

When you look at him again, you're almost horrified to find the smile that had once been on his face, completely wiped away. His face is a shadow and it strikes you way more than anything ever has. Something in you scolds you. It gnaws at you to make things right.

“Don't do that.” He says darkly. “Don't disappoint me.”

His hands -one still holding a gun- moves to cup both your cheeks. He cranes your neck further back, gazing deeply. “I can't have you living on the street.”

“You don't have to kill anyone-”

His jaw ticks, “Pick.”

“Sir…”

“You're disappointing me.”

All it takes is those three words to have your world crashing to the floor. Tears blur your vision as you raise a trembling finger.

“Him. I pick him.”

It's the first time you realized that you were brimming with codependency

Or stupidity.

Or maybe both

“That's a good girl.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The father you never had.

He lets his eyes meet that of the boyfriend who is shaking and writhing in seat.

“What a good fucking girl I have, wouldn't you agree?” He asks the boyfriend yet he only cries and cries and cries. Meanwhile, you're bathing in the warm, milky words of praise.

"I suppose you wouldn't be able to agree to much in a second-"

He raises the gun.

Wait-" but the trigger is already pulled, and the bullet slices through the air and the deed is done.

It's remarkable how fast it travels. The speed of the bullet. Like it's competing with light itself. One moment his head is there and his brain is inside it, functioning like usual and the next moment, it's splattered all across my bedroom wall, coating your stuffed animals and drenching your pink bedding.

“You killed someone…”

“We killed someone, and you did such a good job. Now we're real rich people-”

You shake your head.

“Oh my fucking god we killed someone-”

It's stupid, but the first thought that comes to mind is-

“How- How am I gonna get the stain out!?”

“I'll get you new sheets, Doll, I promise…”

Meanwhile the roommate is crying and screaming her throat hoarse. You watch gravely as vomit soaks her gag.

“That's fucking disgusting.” He says before turning back to you. A spray of blood scatters across the side of his handsome face. He'd just committed murder and yet you still describe him as handsome.

“You're not disgusting at all.” He says, “You're so clean and beautiful.” His large hands rub over your face. “And now this apartment's yours. Ours. Maybe.”

Ours.

That word somehow affects you more than the murder you'd just lay witness to. It has you staring up at him with grateful, love-filled eyes. You're still scared but, you were his. And that was a powerful feeling. You'd never belonged to anyone before. Certainly not any man as handsome or smart as this. This isn't rose-tinted glasses anymore, it's rose-tinted vision.

“We killed someone.” You say. Solidifying the fact that you were a couple.

Your heart rages in its cage when his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck yes we did,” he moans before smashing his lips down onto yours. Confusion and discomfort wage a terrific and bloody war inside you as he kisses you absolutely dizzy. Your insides are swirling and your stomach is turning at the sight of the blood drenching your walls.

he tips your head up, forcing his tongue in and he moans when you let him. Your tongues touch and coax and he pulls you in close.

“You know how good you looked when I picked you up earlier, Doll? I loved seeing those bloodshot eyes of yours.” He mumbles, “I just hated not being the one to make you cry.”

You sob something awful. The sound escapes you while your lips are still plastered to his.

“But this is all me,” he says proudly, gazing down at your watery eyes as he pins you up against the wall. “This is all me.”

Your roommate sits in a daze. Over his wide shoulder, her eyes stare blankly into yours and you almost find yourself mouthing the words 'I'm sorry'.

Almost. But you never do.

Your brain is too clouded by feelings of fear, regret, pleasure and… satisfaction. In your defense her boyfriend really fucking sucked.

"Take this off." He groans, lowering his large build to the floor to shove your shorts and underwear down. Undressing you almost formally as he lifts your one leg out followed by the other.

Your eyes are still on her.

Every vile word she's said to you. Every occasion she'd bring her equally cruel friends over and they'd gossip about you loud enough for their words to carry through the walls.

You realize very gravely that your care is waning.

That humanity that was still left inside you is thinning.

And he's pressing wet kisses against your legs, worshipping the soft cellulite at your thighs.

A man in a suit at his knees for you and she's forced to watch.

It makes you feel so-

"Fucking beautiful, fuck." He groans.

The more riled up he is, the less care he gives to how crass his language becomes. As if trapped in a daze, with your eyes still on your tormentor -your bully- you hook your fingers into his hair. Parting your legs you lead his mouth to your exposed cunt and he slurps you up for all your worth.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he eats you out with vigor. He flattens his tongue and suctions his mouth against your clit, causing a deep and guttural moan to spill from your lips.

He pulls back, breathing raggedly, "Fuck my face," he commands, before placing both hands on your ass, enough to have your cunt riding his open mouth. It feels so fucking good your eyes are stinging with tears. You let them fall because you'd know he'd appreciate it. He appreciates every tear in your confidence. Every waver in your air-tight judgement. It undoes him completely to see you so fucking pathetic.

He looks up at you while you're riding him. Those morally black eyes are urging you to hump his face and you do.

At the sight of your tears falling his nails dig into your ass and you moan more. All the sounds you're able to make are in intelligible sounds of pleasure. But you force yourself to come to your senses. Just long enough to whisper

"Th-Thank you, Sir,"

He stills. Completely stunned.

You come. It crashes down on you all while your roommate tries to squeeze her crying eyes shut, shaking her head as if trying to delude herself into believing none of this is real.

"You are fucking fire, you know that?" He croaks, slowly rising. You're breathing oh so quickly and it only speeds up at the sight of your arousal casting his jaw.

“I wanna fucking hurt you so bad. I wanna eat you. I wanna fuck you. I wanna do so many unspeakable things to you- you're so perfect.”

He throws one more gaze over his shoulder. His almond eyes scan over the body, then the girl and he groans, furiously undoing his belt.

"How the fuck did I get so lucky?” he says, almost to himself.

"Answer me." He presses his body firmly against yours, until your spine is straight against the wall. "Fucking answer me when I talk to you."

He growls before bringing a hand up to your chin. It's painful the way he grabs you, but you're so used to pain. It lives here now. Between you both.

"I-I- don't know-" you really don't know and he melts at that.

"I'll tell you how, Princess. " he wraps your leg around his waist, "People like me- people we call crazy and evil-” His eyes are so wide, his smile too. -we get nice things. And people like that-" he quirks his head backwards, “The weak? Those people on the streets, they die.” He says, grinding his cock agaisnt your cunt, “And we don't die, yeah?"

"Oh fuck." You're seeing stars when his cock sinks into your cunt. It's hard and raging and he's already doing multiple shallow thrusts to force it deeper. "S-So big-" you can't talk, you hardly ever can when he's like this. Fucking you into an absolute frenzy.

"You gonna squirt for me, Doll?” he grits his teeth, hips stuttering as he ravages you against the wall. "F-Fuck." Some

“She's a really good squirter-” he turns his head to watch your roommate over his shoulder. Her head is slumped forward, she's fainted perhaps.

After weeks of trying to impress him, to show him that you were not the weak little thing he had first kidnapped- you realize it's paid off. He caveman grunts as he fucks you deeper and harder and a cry rips itself from your throat.

“Y-You want me?” You ask with trembling lips.

“Baby,” he breathes directly into your mouth. “I need you.”

"F-Fuck-" your orgasm sneaks up on you and he watches with immense gratification as you come undone on his cock.

“You're making a mess on my cock-” clear liquid streams out of hou, threatinging tk lush his cock out but he fucks you through it.

“Gonna fucking cum inside you, baby. You're gonna take it, aren't you? My good girl's gonna fucking take it,” he throws his head back as his eyes flutter closed and soon he's fucking spurts of warm cum into you.

It fills you completely until the mess is coating your thighs. Through your wave of endless euphoria you see stars, the planets and him in the very centre of it all, guiding you and coaxing you through the bountiful high.

Even when he's done, his cock is still nestled deep inside you, pushing you over the brink of stimulation.

"You're very promising.” He admits, “Always have been.”

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[audarcy]

Me in the shower thinking about my wife: i think one of the big reasons why het culture "wifey/hubby" "his/hers" "tiaras/mustaches" matching sets other than the cis binarism of it all is that it reveals the thought process behind heteropatriarchy wherein ideal love is a product of inversion; two puzzle pieces that fit together but are separate and made functional solely by the utility of their differences. Heteropatriarchal love retroactively redefines a person as a half of a whole, their functions and idiosyncrasies only valuable when curtailed by another's. But more than that, heteropatriarchal love is so divided. My "hers" towel and your "his." Married on a friday because saturdays are for the boys. Your woodsmoke-scented deodorant and my lavender. We cant possibly hope to understand each other and that's what lends our partnership value, somehow. But the love i cherish--the love that nurtures me--is inextricability. Not the teeth of your personality spinning the cogs of mine but the blend and blur of our edges together. The further in the tide rolls the better. The love that nurtures me is accepting everything about you into my life even if i dont feel the same way about it that you do. Its a becoming. Becoming you, becoming myself, becoming us, again and again. There are no puzzle pieces to snap together, and im no more or less of anything with or without you. But no matter what happens i carry you with me now. Even in the small ways like how we wear each others jackets and deodorant and hats. I wear your mannerisms, and your jokes. I have your interests. You have my music taste. We subsume and consume one another. We explore each other by exploring ourselves and vice versa. The process of loving you is a mapping of a vast expanse and it is the creation itself of that expanse, ad infinitum. Loving you is a fluidity of the self. I try out new ways of living through you. I see through your eyes. My life doubles by virture of sharing it with you. We finish each others sentences and joke that were the same person but its truer than we have the language to describe. My selfhood blurs into yours; Im not half of a whole, but together we are a whole. You could draw a straight line from one end of me to the other end of you, no breaks. And why shouldnt we travel that line? Step inside my head and get comfy. Mi casa es su casa. Youre me and im you.

What comes out of my mouth when she walks into the room: id let you wear my skin if i could

[venuslut]

FANTASIZING ABOUT a needy Choso Kamo ♡︎.

He can’t help it. Ever since you first introduced him to sex, he just can’t get enough. It’s not his fault that your cunt is so addicting, so much so that he’s often begging you to let him fuck you on his cock. It’s not his fault that you moan so beautifully that he can’t help but thrust into you harder so you’ll make more of those pretty sounds for him. It’s not his fault that you taste so good and he has to have you on his tongue, drinking your juices until you’re shaking and crying. He doesn’t mean to be so needy, but you bring out this side of him he can’t control.

How is he supposed to control himself when you walk around in those skimpy clothes, showing off your plump ass and perfect tits? It’s impossible. He’ll try to resist, have some self-control. But it isn’t long before he’s hugging you from behind, dotting wet kisses along your neck and pushing his hard-on into your ass. All while he’s begging you let him feel your wet cunt. And of course you’ll let him, how could you say no to your cute desperate boyfriend.

The minute you agree he has you laid out under him as he fucks his big cock into your tight cunt. Moaning and whimpering about how good it feels to be inside you again, his face red as he pushes every last inch of himself into you. He uses his weight to thrust into you, which only made your head go dizzy. He has you in a lazy mating press and your plush thighs slap against his hips every time he comes down, the sound of Choso’s deep thrusts is so musical, his tip abusing your womb to the point your eyes roll back. His mouth is so filthy too, and the worst part is, is that he doesn’t even realize it. “Fuck, baby... you’re sucking me in... your pussy’s so tight.” He groans into your ear, sucking onto your skin and leaving purple marks behind, intent on marking you as his. Although there was no point since you still had the hickeys from your last encounter, but it was never enough for Choso.

The poor curse is so in love with your body that he’ll go on for hours and hours just playing with your body. If it was up to him, you both would never leave the bed. Who needs to eat when he can just eat your cunt and you can suck his cock? Who needs to sleep when there’s a new position he wants to try? This man will not stop because that’s how addicted he is to your cunt. You curse the curse’s stamina and sometimes wish you had a normal boyfriend, but he usually fucks those thoughts right out of your head before you can try and act on them. “Choso… ngh!— h-hold on, my body…” you mumbled, unable to fully say your sentence. He hits a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a strangled cry, bucking your hips wildly to try and get that same pleasure again. Choso eyed your reaction, angling his hips to continue hitting that spot over and over again til you’re seeing stars and screaming out his name. You had no thoughts about shame, or how you should lower your voice, not when your handsome boy was fucking you within an inch of your life.

“Right there? ‘s that the spot, dove?” He pants, voice hoarse from his overwhelming desire for you. You’ve lost track of time, to obsessed with the way Choso has you creaming around his cock for the nth time. Everything was too much, but you loved it, in an addictive way. The overstimulation was addicting. His words were addicting. The sound of the bed hitting the wall was addicting. His cock was addicting. He was addicting. You always tease Choso about his neediness when in reality, you’re just as needy and obsessed as he is. You can tell Choso is close by the way his cock twitched inside you and how he speeds up his movements, rutting into you with wild abandon and chasing his orgasm.

You throw your head back into a pillow, your vision almost going black as you were consumed with ecstasy. The air was knocked out of your lungs with every snap of his hips, your senses filled with just the pressure of Choso. It felt like you were gonna throw up, but not in a bad way. “Baby… babybabybabybaby! A-ah! Mgn…” you cried out in pleasure, clawing at the sheets below you. Choso’s hands tightened around your hips, his careful grip growing into a bruising hold as he was solely focused on reaching his climax. “Hah— you feel sososososo good, dove. I love you, I love you so much,” he whimpered. It was right there, he could feel it, just a couple more thrusts and he’ll finally have his release. He wants to cum so bad, he needs to cum.

“Hey dove? C-can I fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Wanna cum inside you,” he begged, his voice broken as he pleads with you. “Please, my love… I want to stuff your pussy with my cum, wanna fill you up…” he continues, kissing your ankle and calf to convince you further. You didn’t need much convincing though, you were already to dumb and out-of-it to deny the poor curse. Frantically, you nodded your head, just wanting to feel his hot semen inside you. And you finally got your wish after a few more sloppy thrusts, before Choso goes still and empties his balls into your awaiting cavern. He lets out a guttural moan as ropes of cum spurt out. Slowly, he pulls out, his cock coated in a translucent white, his thighs and pelvis sticky from a mix of sweat and cum.

You both lay there in silence, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only noise echoing through the room. While coming down from your high, you remember that the reason you even got dressed today was because you had work. Annoyed, you lightly smack the upside of Choso’s head, complaining about how he made you late while you go to get out of bed and put your clothes back on. Choso rubs the area where you hit him as he watched you struggle to move and get out of bed, he looks at you like a kicked puppy and he knows he should be sorry for making you late but he can’t find it in him to feel guilty. Instead, Choso reaches out and wraps his arms around you, pulling you back further onto the bed and flushed against his sweaty chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and he lines soft kisses to your nape.

“I’m sorry, dove… Why don’t you call out and let me eat your pussy as an apology?”

[i2sunric]

𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 (p.sh)

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!sunghoon x classpresident!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after an argument caused by his overwhelming jealousy, you decide to find him in the hockey changing rooms to show him your loyalty, by getting down on your knees.

WARNINGS: jealousy (borderline toxic?) argument, fighting, sunghoon has a bad temperament, smut (blowjob, deepthroat), dirty talking, dom!hoon but reader knows her way with him, cum in mouth, cum eating, high school au (but they’re both 19), hoon is slightly toxic, pet names (slut, baby), messy blowjob, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD

PUBLISHED: 27th November 2024

WC: 2.1k

TAGLIST: permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvr r @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @senascoooop @mitmit01 @cloud-lyy @won4me @slut4hee @leov3rse @aanniikkaa @lvnglysunoo @lovingvoidgoatee @talesofthegreatest @yeonjunswife05 @soobieboo @llearlert @j1sb4e @roslayy @yunhoswrldddd @eneiyri @jakeswifez @malak13567889 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @hoonics BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

a/n: peekaboo! guess who rose from not the dead but my drafts? yup, this fic i never actually had the inspiration to write. please REBLOG & COMMENT to share and lmk your thoughts.

The cold air from the rink clung to your skin as you stormed down the corridor, the sound of your heels clicking pounding in your ears.

Every word from the argument replayed in your mind, sharper each time, like tiny blades cutting into your chest. You’d always known about Sunghoon’s temper, how he buried that dangerous, jealous side of himself for you.

He was used to getting into fights and spending more time in detention than in class, but he had tried to change the exact moment you became his girlfriend.

He tried, but sometimes it slipped through the cracks. Sometimes it surged to the surface, fiery and unrelenting, like it had the day before.

For a moment, you just stood there, breathing hard. You thought you’d gotten used to it—the way his jealousy twisted into anger, the way he let it consume him.

It hadn’t, truthfully, but you were going to make everything right again, even if it meant swallowing your pride — and his dick — Because he was more important.

As soon as your council meeting ended, you decided to rush to the hockey changing room in order to get Sunghoon before morning classes.

You waited for everyone to exit, knowing that if your boyfriend was any the annoyed teenage kid he was, he’d take a long shower to calm his nerves.

You ignored all the wolf whistles and viscous smirk as you pushed the door of the male changing rooms open, after making sure everyone except Sunghoon was out.

And there you saw him, sculpted like a Greek god as his dignity was covered only with a towel while he dried his hair with another.

His eyes closed momentarily before quickly snapping back open as his head turned towards the door.

Sunghoon stepped forwards with the towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his hair but his muscles were prominent as he stared down at you

"What the hell are you doing in here?" he spoke, tone harsh and annoyed as he stepped closer to you.

You already knew he was mad, so be it. You stood in front of him with your backpack in hand, your hair perfectly combed and uniform neat “We need to talk.”

Sunghoon's jaw tightened at your words, his eyes narrowing on you as he continued to walk towards you while looking down at you like you were some kind of prey. "Yeah? Well, if you couldn't tell, I’m kind of busy here,"

You sighed, placing your backpack on one of the benches, side stepping him “I can wait.”

"And you think you're allowed to just wait in here? You shouldn't be in here in the first place," He retorted impatiently as he also turned around, walking towards his own locker to grab some clean clothes.

“Then I’ll just have to break some rules.” You replied, letting him know you weren’t backing down. “Why are you mad at me?”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw as he grabbed his boxers, pulling them on under his towel and removing it around his waist before reaching for his school pants.

He didn't bother to turn around to look at you as he was getting dressed, but his attitude changed a bit at your question, scoffing in response. "You really wanna know why I'm mad?" he retorted as he grabbed a plain black t-shirt to go over his head.

You eyed him shamelessly as he got dressed. "That's what I just asked."

Sunghoon couldn't help but notice the way your eyes remained on him, watching as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, his muscles straining against the fabric as he finally looked back at you, eyes dark and expression cold. "It's because of that prick from the council you've been spending so much time with," He responded with venom in his tone as he spoke.

“What about him?” You already knew what was the rant about, you had already heard all of his jealous tantrum the day before.

Still, you needed him to talk to you.

He clearly was not happy about the fact that you were acting clueless. "Don't play stupid with me," he sneered, "You know exactly why I’m mad. You've been spending so much time with that bastard from the council, right under my nose."

You sighed, hands resting on your hip “Because he helps me with my election campaign,” you filled in “Nothing more, don’t act like I’m hooking up with someone.”

Sunghoon couldn't help but scoff again, clearly not believing you whatsoever. "You really expect me to believe that bullshit?" he retorted, his tone cold. "You're constantly with that prick every time I see you. How am I supposed to believe you haven't been doing anything behind my back?"

You raised a brow at him. Clearly, what he had said wasn’t of your liking, “Why do you doubt me?”

"Oh, don't give me that look," He shot back, his expression cold and indifferent as he stared down at you with narrowed eyes. "I have every reason to doubt you. Everytime I see the two of you, you're all chummy, standing way too close together."

You walked close to him, slowly, like a panther ready to attack; waiting for the right time.

“Choose your words carefully.” You said, lowly “Because you know well I would never cheat on you.”

His nostrils filled with the smell of your perfume that he always loved.

He was about to attack again but your words shut him up immediately, his eyes locking with yours as he was slightly intimidated.

However, he still tried to keep his cold, indifferent façade, scoffing again as he leaned against a locker. "I can say whatever the hell I want," he retorted stubbornly.

You looked up at him “What do you need?” you asked “Do you need me to prove myself to you?”

Sunghoon couldn't help but notice the way you stared up at him, and as much as he wanted to keep his cold facade and be stubborn, he was also slightly affected by the fact that you were making it so difficult for him to stay mad at you.

“What are you getting at?" he asked, his tone still harsh as he kept his eyes locked on yours, his arms folded as he leaned against the locker.

Your tone was low “You need my reassurance, Hoon?” his heart skipped a beat as you called him by his nickname, something you never did when you're upset.

"What kind of reassurance?" he questioned, “My loyalty.” you replied.

“And how do you plan on showing me?” your hand slowly travelled up his thigh to squeeze his groin.

Sunghoon reached out for you, his hands gripping onto your hips tightly as he pulled you closer so your body was now pressed against his. "Is this you being loyal?"

You smirked and squeezed him, nodding your head, making Sunghoon suppress a shiver. A mocking scoff left his lips “Yeah? You think that is enough?”

You rolled your eyes, “You think so lowly of me.” you slowly sank down to your knees.

Your long socks weren’t long enough to cover your knees and neither was your skirt, which meant you’d have some serious sore knees later. But it didn’t matter, not when you needed to redeem yourself to your boyfriend.

Sunghoon's eyes widened as you sank to your knees in front of him, now face to face with the prominent tent in his pants he had tried to hide from you moments ago.

“This isn't proving anything yet," he managed to spit out, his tone shakier than ever.

Instead of verbally replying, something you know would only lead to yet another fight, you decided to lower his pants.

Sunghoon wasn’t average, he was thick and long, something you had tried to cope with over the time you dated. Because it hurt, but it hurt so good.

As his boxers and pants fell down to his ankles, his cock sprung free, proud and red in front of you.

“Are you such a slut?” He asked, even if his hands gently gathered your hair so you wouldn’t dirty them “Going to your knees to resolve everything, uh?”

You rolled your eyes and began giving kitten kisses to his prominent bulge, making Sunghoon shiver.

Your hand wrapped around his cock, and you pumped him painfully slowly.

He let out a soft groan in response, especially when your finger brushed against a certain vein that had his hips buck.

Your lips enfolded his angry tip, tasting the salty precum “Fuck,” Sunghoon sighed.

Impatient, and still irritated by your argument, he gripped your hair and pushed his length deep inside your throat.

You gagged at the sudden action, trying to take deep breaths not to actually retch your breakfast.

You looked up at him with an annoyed gaze, making your boyfriend chuckle “Can’t take it?”

You hummed, sending vibrations through his whole body as you bobbed your head back and forth.

Sunghoon leaned his own against the locker, his other hand flexing as he got lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

You pulled away to gather your breath, saliva and spit coating your lips. It was such a hot sight for Sunghoon.

You cleaned your mouth and used your saliva to lubricate his shaft, pumping him and then taking him again.

You tried not to gag again around him, using one of your hands to help you where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl.” Sunghoon murmured, slowly going back to his usual self.

You smirked around his cock and pushed your head deeper, feeling his thick tip hitting the back of your throat.

Sunghoon let out a low moan, “Fuck, just like that.” he breathed out, “Bet that guy would dream of having you like this, mh? Should I take a picture and send it to him?”

You shook your head, but at the idea of Sunghoon being so jealous he’d even snap a picture while you were sucking his dick aroused you. You squeezed your thighs together to soothe the aching feeling in your core.

“Keep going,” Sunghoon changed as he matched your pace with his own thrust, each one almost making you gag, “Your mouth was made to suck my dick.”

It was a challenge, but you’d endure it if it meant soothing the beast that lay under his skin. Your beast, your demon.

When you felt his legs tremble, you knew he was close, so you hollowed your cheeks and let him fuck into your mouth.

One of your hands dropped limp while you used the other to palm his balls, adding to the already overwhelming pleasure he was feeling.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” He said, trying and failing to get you to move away.

You were all dolled up for school, and he had already messed up your hair, he didn’t want to stain your uniform with his cum, however erotic such an image was.

You let out a disapproving hum, which was enough to send him over the edge.

“Ah— Shit.” His cock twitched in your mouth as you wrapped your lips around his length and swallowed all off his seed, greedily taking every drop.

His hips bucked weakly a couple of times before you pulled away and licked your lips.

Standing up on wobbly legs, you took a tissue from the pocket of your skirt and cleaned your mouth, as well as some smudged make up.

“You didn’t have to swallow it.” Sunghoon said as he tucked his softened cock inside his pants, “I know how much you don’t enjoy it.”

It was true. You thought it was gross to swallow whenever you gave him head, but you also knew how much he loved it. He loved when you took his cum, when you gave him a reason to claim you.

“If I didn’t want to swallow, I wouldn’t have done it.” You replied, fixing your hair and taking your discarded backpack.

Just in time, the bell rang. Being the (hopefully) soon-to-be school president, you couldn’t manage to arrive late to class, so you tiptoed and pressed a quick peck on Sunghoon’s lips.

“I’ll see you after school, yeah?” You murmured, smirking when you noticed how flustered he was, “I’ll let you take me in whatever position you want.”

Sunghoon shook his head, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pressing a hot kiss to your mouth. Argument long forgotten, “Where did I find you?”

You wiggle your brows “In your wildest dreams.”

[prettieinpink]

HABITS TO IMPLEMENT BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

DAILY AFFIRMATIONS

You can choose whatever time you’d like to say positive and affirmative statements to yourself. When saying affirmations, use the first person and present tense. E.g I am healthy, I take care of myself, and I am strong academically. 

Affirmations are so helpful because our brains struggle to tell the difference between imagination and reality. So, when we visualise ourselves doing something that's not actually happening, it stimulates the brain areas as if we were actually experiencing it.

So, repetitive affirmations will encourage your brain to treat it as fact. While this only works to an extent, it does help with self-sabotaging thought actions and thought patterns. 

EATING MINDFULLY

Eating mindfully is the practice of when consuming anything, you put your full focus on that meal. There are no devices that may distract you, you’re eating slowly and paying close attention to how different meals make your body feel. 

To eat mindfully, focus on the time it takes for you to finish your food. Is it enough time for your body to give signals about your meal? To chew thoroughly? Another thing is to turn off and eliminate any distractions. Such as being on any devices or multitasking. 

Eating too quickly means that your body may not have enough time to tell you that it's full. When you eat mindfully, it's easier for your body to register when it's full. Furthermore, it's easier to distinguish between true hunger and non-hunger triggers for eating. 

CREATIVE OUTLETS

For a lot of us, 2024 was a stressful year. We’re constantly hustling and not letting ourselves process what's happening in and around us. Having a creative outlet helps us to release and detach from those emotions. It allows us to experience that feeling, but leave it all behind in the end. 

Some examples are painting, clay artwork, creative writing, designing, sewing, crocheting and music. There’s a lot more you could do, but ultimately you have to do what's best for yourself. 

LEARNING SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY

At least one thing each day: aim to learn something completely new to you. Other than the fact that you are learning something new, it allows for your curiosity to grow and expand outside of your typical education institution. With curiosity, comes with the skill of being able to explore complications and come up with solutions. 

There are many ways you can learn, but I think the best way is by coming up with your questions in an area you’re unfamiliar with and then looking for an answer to your question. 

My favourite way has to be watching video essays. Doesn’t always have to be social commentary, but anything that seems interesting enough for me. 

COMPLIEMENT-A-DAY

I love receiving compliments from strangers. It leaves the widest smile on my face and I swear I feel so much lighter like I’m floating around. However, I never think to give a compliment to someone else who I don’t know. So, whenever you see the cutest outfit or the perfect lip combo, make sure to say it!

For those who may be shy in those kinds of interactions, practice saying it in your head. You don’t have to say it out loud to them, but thinking positively of other people will reflect on how you think about yourself. 

That is it for this post, thank you for reading until the end ♥︎ Until next time, take care of yourself ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹