#let’s start calling things by their name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elikajinnie · 3 days ago

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hii! hope ur doing good I have some ideas in mind hear me out demon sunghoon where he fell in love with reader and tries to protect and keep an eye on her and sunghoon tries to disguise himself as a human to get closer to her will do anything to protect her and love her, buttt what if reader discover’s his true identity. It could be incubus sunghoon BUT ITS UR CHOICE, Hope ur doing good :333

The Incubus's Touch - P.S

a/n: i hope you like it <33

P: Incubus!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (Recommended age 18+)

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Obsession, Teasing, Possession, Seduction, Hurt/Comfort, Temptation, Stalking, Suggestive Content, Mature Content.

Wordcount: 10.2k

Synopsis: Working at the old campus library was fun—except for one rule: never enter the basement. Yet, one day, you found yourself there, holding an ancient book. You read a few words, and now strange things are happening, and a mysterious new student won’t leave you alone. Who—or what—did you awaken?

a/n: i got some inspiration from a new book im reading called The Devil Makes Three by Tori Bovalino - i would recommend it if you can handle slowburn.

now playing: woo by rihanna | sins (let me in) by kanii | temptation by ashley sienna | dont mess with my mind by emo

reblogs and commentary are welcomed <3

When you first decided to get a job close to campus, you weren’t expecting much. In fact, you didn’t have many choices at all. Most of the cafes and shops near the university had already filled their rosters for the semester, and every rejection you received only added to the growing knot of anxiety in your chest. As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing desperate, spending late nights scrolling through job postings that seemed to disappear before you could even send in an application.

It wasn’t until one quiet afternoon in the campus library that your salvation arrived.

The campus library had always been your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and filled with the smell of old books. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend hours tucked into one of the corners, surrounded by towering shelves of books and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. The librarian, Mrs. Choi, had gotten used to seeing you there almost every day, to the point where she’d started greeting you by name when you walked through the doors.

That day, she had approached your table while you were hunched over your laptop, your screen open to yet another fruitless job search.

“Still looking?” she’d asked, her voice soft but knowing.

You’d sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah. It’s been… rough.”

She’d nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting toward the stacks of books waiting to be shelved. Then, after a moment, she’d said, “How would you feel about working here? As my assistant?”

You’d blinked, thinking you must have misheard her. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” she’d said, smiling faintly. “It’s nothing glamorous, but we could use an extra set of hands. And you seem like the kind of person who’d do well here.”

You didn’t need to think twice. You’d eagerly accepted the offer on the spot.

The job, as it turned out, was exactly what you’d needed. Sorting out books, erasing stray pencil marks and doodles from pages, sitting behind the counter to check books in and out, cleaning shelves, making sure the computers were turned off at the end of the day—it was simple work.

You quickly fell into a routine. Most days, you worked quietly alongside Mrs. Choi, who was as patient and kind. Other times, you found yourself alone.

There were small challenges, of course— like figuring out the library catalog system, dealing with students who were less than gentle with the books, chasing down overdue returns—but they were minor in the grand scheme of things.

It wasn’t the job you’d imagined yourself doing, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed.

But there was one simple rule she had given you: never enter the basement alone.

At first, you thought it was strange. The basement was just a storage space, wasn’t it? A place to keep old supplies, forgotten books, and maybe some outdated equipment. Why would it matter if you were alone or not?

You got your answer the first time Mrs. Choi took you down there.

It had been a quiet afternoon, with only a few students milling around the library. Mrs. Choi had handed you a list of supplies needed to repair a torn book—a delicate process that required some old tools and adhesives she kept locked away downstairs. She led you to a small, unassuming door at the far corner of the library, almost hidden behind one of the towering shelves.

The moment the door creaked open, the atmosphere changed.

The air was heavier, colder. A faint smell of mold hit your nose immediately, mixed with something metallic that made you wrinkle your nose. The single light bulb at the top of the stairs flickered, casting shadows that danced along the narrow stairwell. You hesitated, but Mrs. Choi gave you a reassuring look and motioned for you to follow.

“I know it’s not exactly inviting,” she said with a small smile, descending the stairs, “but the supplies we need are down here. Just stick close to me.”

You nodded and followed her, but the deeper you went, the more uneasy you felt. The basement wasn’t just dark—it was suffocatingly so. The walls were lined with shelves cluttered with dust-covered boxes, forgotten stacks of books, and unidentifiable objects. The floor beneath your feet was uneven, cracked concrete, and your steps echoed in the silence.

And then there were the hallways.

You hadn’t expected the basement to be so sprawling. Hallways branched off in seemingly every direction, twisting and turning into darkness. Some of them were so narrow you’d have to walk sideways to squeeze through. Others disappeared entirely into shadows, the overhead lights either burned out or nonexistent.

“This library is older than the campus itself,” Mrs. Choi explained as she rummaged through a shelf near the end of one of the hallways. “The basement used to be part of an old archive building before the university bought the property. They’ve renovated the library a dozen times over the years, but the basement? Well…” She trailed off, gesturing to the decaying walls around you.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you muttered, wrinkling your nose at the sight of a particularly large spiderweb on the wall.

Mrs. Choi chuckled softly. “Exactly. What the students can’t see won’t hurt them—or so the administration likes to think. Just be glad you don’t have to come down here often.”

You nodded, but your eyes kept drifting to the dark hallways. There was something… off about them.

“Mrs. Choi?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Hmm?” she replied without looking up.

“Why don’t you want me coming down here alone?”

She paused, her hands stilling on the box she’d been searching through. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, and you felt a chill crawl up your spine. When she finally spoke, her tone was casual—too casual.

“It’s easy to get lost,” she said, turning to you with a faint smile. “The layout down here doesn’t make much sense, and it’s not exactly safe to wander around in the dark. The last thing I want is for you to trip and hurt yourself.”

Her explanation made sense, but the way she avoided your gaze left you unconvinced. Still, you didn’t press the issue. You helped her carry the supplies back upstairs, relieved to step back into the library.

After that, you made a point to follow her rule. The basement was creepy enough with someone else—there was no way you were going down there alone.

At least, not until the night you had no choice.

It happened a few weeks later, after a long shift that had stretched past closing time. Mrs. Choi had gone home early, trusting you to lock up on your own. Most of the evening had just been returning books to their shelves, tidying up the counter, shutting down the computers—but just as you were about to leave, you noticed a small stack of books on the repair desk.

You froze, staring at them. Mrs. Choi had asked you to fix those earlier in the week, but you’d completely forgotten. The supplies you needed were downstairs—in the basement.

You hesitated, debating whether you could just leave it for tomorrow, but you knew Mrs. Choi was counting on you. Sighing, you grabbed a flashlight from the front desk and made your way to the basement door.

You hesitated at the door, keys in hand, as a quiet, uneasy thought crossed your mind: Just leave it for tomorrow. But Mrs. Choi... She was counting on you. The supplies were just downstairs. It’d take five minutes at most.

With a resigned sigh, you unlocked the door.

The heavy, creaking groan of the hinges sent a shiver down your spine as the door swung open. The familiar smell hit you immediately: damp, mold, and that faint metallic. You reached for the light switch, flipping it on without much thought.

Nothing happened.

You froze, your hand still on the switch. You flicked it again. And again. Still nothing.

You swallowed hard, telling yourself the bulb had probably just burned out—though you couldn’t remember a time the light had ever failed before.

“It’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, bringing the flashlight you’d brought along up. The bright beam cut through the darkness as you clicked it on, illuminating the narrow staircase in front of you. You took a shaky breath and began your descent.

The further down you went, the colder it became.

The air felt heavier here, pressing against your skin like a warning. You tried to focus on the flashlight’s beam, watching it bounce against the cracked walls and uneven steps. It helped, a little. But not enough to shake the growing knot of unease curling in your stomach.

When you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, you paused to look around. The beam of your flashlight swept across the basement, revealing the same maze of shelves, forgotten boxes, and darkened hallways you’d seen before. But tonight, it felt different—almost unfamiliar.

A shiver ran up your spine. You adjusted your grip on the flashlight, forcing yourself to move.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself. “Get the supplies and leave.”

You turned toward the shelf where Mrs. Choi always kept the repair tools. They were usually right there—neatly stored in a small wooden crate on the middle shelf. But as you shone the flashlight over it, you froze.

The shelf was empty.

Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly scanned the area. No crate. No tools. Nothing. You crouched down, checking the lower shelves, even though you knew they’d never been there before. Still nothing.

“Where…?” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own breathing.

Maybe Mrs. Choi had moved them? That was possible, right? She was always reorganizing things. You straightened up, your flashlight flicking from shelf to shelf, moving to step back, you were about tt turn to check the other shelves nearby. That’s when you heard it.

A faint sound, just on the edge of your hearing. A soft creak, like the sound of a door easing open—or maybe a floorboard shifting underfoot.

You froze, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hand.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice louder than you intended. It echoed through the basement, bouncing off the walls and disappearing into the dark hallways. No response.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe just the old pipes settling, or your own footsteps disturbing something. But as you turned back to the shelf, another sound reached you.

This time, it was softer—quieter. Like the faint rustle of fabric.

Your stomach dropped.

You swung the flashlight toward the nearest hallway, its beam cutting through the dark. Nothing. Just more shelves, more shadows. But your instincts were screaming at you now, telling you to leave. To get out of there.

"Okay, nope," you whispered to yourself, backing away from the hallway, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hands.

That’s when you heard it.

A hum.

Soft, almost melodic, like someone humming a lullaby just out of earshot. It floated through the air, carried on a breeze that shouldn’t have existed down here. The sound wrapped around you, tender and strangely inviting, tugging at something deep inside your chest.

You froze, the flashlight beam flickering as your grip loosened. The hum grew louder—not in an overwhelming way, but in a way that seemed to sink into your bones. It felt… warm.

Where were you again?

You frowned, the thought slipping through your mind like water through your fingers. You couldn’t remember. The dim basement around you blurred at the edges, the walls dissolving into a hazy glow. The tight knot of fear in your stomach melted away, replaced by a slow, pleasant warmth that spread through your body.

The hum wrapped around you like a blanket, comforting and wonderful, coaxing you to close your eyes and just… relax. The cold, damp smell of the basement faded, replaced by something sweeter. Flowers? No… vanilla, maybe. Something that reminded you of home.

You let out a soft sigh, your muscles relaxing, the tension in your shoulders fading. Your flashlight slipped from your fingers and clattered to the ground, but you barely noticed.

Everything felt so perfect.

You wanted to stay here forever.

But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the hum stopped.

And everything crashed back into focus.

The warmth in your chest was gone, replaced by a sharp chill that clawed at your skin. The sweetness in the air vanished, leaving behind the bitter stench of mold and metal. Your surroundings solidified, and you realized you were no longer standing where you’d been before.

You were in a different room.

The walls were smooth and gray, completely different from the crumbling concrete of the basement hallways. The shelves were gone, replaced by nothing but cold, empty space. The air felt heavier, colder, and every breath you took made your chest ache.

Your flashlight was nowhere to be seen, but a dim, pale light seemed to seep into the room from nowhere and everywhere at once.

The hum was gone, but the silence it left behind was worse.

You turned in slow circles, your heart hammering in your chest. The room was small, with smooth, gray walls that loomed over you, stretching upward into darkness.

“Hello?” you called, your voice trembling.

It echoed back to you, warped and distant, as if the room was far larger than it seemed.

The warped echoes of your voice faded into the suffocating silence of the room, leaving only the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

How did you even get here?

You couldn't remember. Your mind was still foggy, fragments of warmth and that eerie hum lingering in the back of your thoughts like an unfinished dream.

Did you walk here?

You felt like you were missing pieces of yourself, as if part of your memory had been swallowed whole.

You were about to take a tentative step forward when something deep inside you shifted—a strange, unnatural pull. It wasn't a sensation you could describe easily. It was as though a string deep within your chest was being tugged, pulling you toward something.

You froze, your breath catching as your eyes followed the invisible tether.

In the center of the room, sitting on a low, ornate stand, was a book.

Your heart stuttered. Had that been there before? You were sure it wasn’t. You would have noticed it immediately, wouldn’t you?

The book seemed to glow faintly, its crimson-red cover almost pulsating, like it was alive. There were no words or symbols on the front, just smooth, worn leather that seemed impossibly pristine for something that felt so… ancient.

You swallowed hard, your feet moving toward it as if on their own. Each step felt heavier, your instincts screaming at you to turn around, to run, but you couldn’t stop.

When you finally reached it, you hesitated.

It was smaller than you expected, almost delicate, as though it shouldn’t have belonged in a place like this. Despite its vivid crimson color, the book radiated a strange sense of calm—like it wanted to be touched.

Before you realized it, your fingers were brushing against the cover.

It felt smooth, almost unnaturally so, and surprisingly light when you picked it up. You turned it over in your hands, the edges soft and perfectly bound, as if the book had been untouched for centuries. But on the back, something caught your attention.

A pink heart.

It was imprinted into the leather, subtle, making it look almost playful.

You huffed, confused and almost annoyed by how strange it all felt. Turning the book back over, you slowly opened it.

The pages inside were blank.

Every single one, clean and untouched, as though the book had never been written in. But when you turned to the first page, something stopped you in your tracks.

There was writing.

It was delicate, inked in looping, elegant script that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. The letters were strange, unfamiliar, but they seemed alive, as though they were moving ever so slightly, shifting and breathing on the page.

Latin, your mind supplied, though you couldn’t remember ever studying the language.

You tilted your head, curiosity overriding your fear as your eyes traced the unfamiliar words. They beckoned to you, pulling you in deeper. Before you even realized what you were doing, your lips parted, and you read them aloud:

"Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum."

Nothing happened.

You stared at the book, waiting for some dramatic effect—a rumble, a flash of light, maybe a ghostly apparition—but there was nothing. Just silence.

You let out an annoyed huff, rolling your eyes. “Great. Real spooky,” you muttered under your breath. Closing the book with a snap, you placed it back on the stand, wiping your hands on your jeans as if to rid yourself of its texture. “What a waste of time.”

Turning around, you glanced around the room again, your frustration growing. It wasn’t like you had time to deal with creepy books in creepy basements. You still needed to get out of here and figure out why the supplies weren’t where they were supposed to be.

Then, you saw it.

A door.

It was open, just wide enough for you to slip through. You frowned. Had it been there before? It must’ve been—how else would you have gotten in here? Still, something about it didn’t sit right with you.

Was that where you came from?

You shrugged. Probably.

With no other options, you headed toward it, slipping through the opening, the faint creak of the hinges echoing unnervingly.

And then you were swallowed by darkness.

“Of course,” you muttered, groaning. Without the flashlight from earlier, the darkness was thick and impenetrable. You could barely see an inch in front of your face, and the faint light from the room behind you did nothing to help.

Fishing your phone from your pocket, you switched on its flashlight. The beam wasn’t as strong as the flashlight you’d been carrying before, but it was enough to see the area around you.

The floor beneath your feet was uneven and cold, a mixture of dirt and cracked stone. You shone the light around, trying to get your bearings. The walls were damp and covered in spiderwebs, and the faint scent of mold and rust lingered in the air.

Where even am I?

You took a tentative step forward, the beam of light from your phone trembling as you moved.

The hallway kept stretching forward, narrow and seemingly endless. The farther you walked, the more the walls seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder with each step. Your phone’s light flickered once, then again, making your pulse spike.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” you whispered, gripping the device tighter.

The light steadied, and you exhaled a shaky breath, your footsteps faltering slightly.

Something felt off.

The air was too still, the silence too absolute. It was the kind of quiet that made you feel like you were being watched, like something was lurking just beyond the reach of your light.

You shook your head, trying to focus. “Get it together,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just find the exit.”

But as you took another step, something caught your attention.

A sound.

It was faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grew louder the more you listened. A soft, rhythmic tapping, like footsteps… or fingers drumming against a surface.

You froze, the beam of your phone’s light shaking as your hands trembled. The sound echoed faintly through the corridor, coming from somewhere ahead of you.

“Hello?” you called, your voice cracking slightly.

No response.

The tapping stopped.

You waited, holding your breath, your ears straining for any hint of movement.

Then, suddenly, the tapping started again—this time behind you.

Your stomach dropped, and you whipped around, the flashlight from your phone sweeping over the hallway you’d just walked through. It was empty.

Completely, utterly empty.

You took a shaky step backward, your heart hammering in your chest. The tapping grew louder, faster, coming from all around you now, echoing off the walls in a maddening cacophony.

“Stop it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just stop!”

And then it did.

The silence that followed was deafening, almost worse than the sound itself. You took another step back, your pulse racing, and suddenly the floor beneath you gave way.

With a startled cry, you fell, the phone slipping from your hand as you tumbled into darkness.

You hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. Dazed and disoriented, you lay there for a moment, your head spinning and your body aching.

When you finally managed to sit up, you realized you were no longer in the narrow hallway.

You were back in the room.

The light was gone, replaced by an suffocating darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly around you.

And in the center of the room, sitting on the stand where you’d left it, was the book.

But this time, it wasn`t red.

It was black.

And it was beating.

You screamed, the sound raw and terrified as it echoed around the room. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. Your body felt impossibly heavy, as though some unseen force was pressing down on you, rooting you in place.

Frantic, your eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out, for anything to explain what was happening. But the darkness seemed alive now, shifting and writhing just beyond your vision.

And then, you felt it.

Hot breath, impossibly close, brushing against your ear.

Your breath hitched as warmth spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, and you hated how your body betrayed you, reacting to something you couldn’t even see.

Then came the lips.

Soft, feather-light, trailing along the curve of your neck. The sensation was so vivid, so real, that a groan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your body arched instinctively, leaning into the phantom touch, even as your mind screamed at you to fight it, to run, to do something.

“Shh,” a voice purred, its tone soothing. “There’s no need to be afraid, my sweet. You called me, remember?”

Your heart raced, and your hands clenched into fists as you tried to regain control of your body. “What… what are you?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

The presence behind you chuckled, the sound low and intimate, like a lover’s laugh shared in the dark.

“I’m yours,” it said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You read the words. You invited me in. And now… we’re bound.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “No, no, this isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

“Oh, but it is,” the voice replied, amusement lacing its tone. “You wanted something, didn’t you? Why else would you open that book? Why else would you speak those words?”

The weight on your body eased slightly, enough for you to shift and try to crawl away, but the darkness coiled around you like a living thing, keeping you in place.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” the voice murmured, almost pitying. “Poor thing. You were so eager, so curious. And now…”

A hand—cold yet burning—brushed against your cheek, tilting your head up toward the stand where the book still rested.

“…you’re mine.”

The room seemed to pulse with those final words, the darkness tightening around you like a vice. Your vision blurred as panic clawed at your throat, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the book—its pages flipping wildly on their own—glowing faintly with a sinister crimson light.

You woke up with a sharp gasp, your body jolting upright like you’d been shocked awake. But as you looked around, you realized you were lying in the middle of the hallway.

Your phone was on the floor beside you, its flashlight pointed up at the cracked ceiling.

It was a dream?

You laughed, breathless and shaky, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself. “This is insane,” you muttered, your voice trembling. The laughter didn’t last long—it felt hollow, a desperate attempt to convince yourself that what you’d experienced wasn’t real.

You snatched up your phone, and scrambled to your feet. Without wasting another second, you sprinted down the hallway, the weak beam of your phone’s flashlight bouncing with every step. You didn’t care where you were going anymore; you just needed to get out.

The hallways twisted and turned, stretching endlessly, and every shadow seemed to claw at you as you ran. It felt like hours—like the labyrinth was mocking you, refusing to let you leave.

But finally, somehow, you found your way back.

The dim light of the main basement room greeted you, and your breath hitched as your eyes landed on something you hadn’t expected to see.

The box of supplies.

It was sitting on the shelf, exactly where it was supposed to be.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at it. The same box you’d been searching for, on the same shelf you’d checked before.

How had it gotten here?

You didn’t dare question it. Not now. Not after everything that had just happened.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the box, clutching it tightly in one hand while you snatched the flashlight off the ground with the other.

Then you bolted.

Your feet thundered up the stairs, your pulse roaring in your ears as you raced for the exit. When you reached the top, you slammed the basement door shut and locked it, your hands shaking so badly it took you a couple of tries to get the key to turn.

The moment it was locked, you pressed your back against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

You glanced down at the supplies in your arms, the mundane, ordinary contents almost laughable now after everything you’d been through.

But as you stood there, something cold prickled at the back of your neck.

You turned slowly, your eyes drifting toward the library’s main floor.

Everything was still. Silent.

And yet, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a figure standing in the shadows between the shelves.

Watching you.

You blinked, and it was gone.

This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, shaking your head as you clutched the box tighter. You were just tired, that was all. You hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days, and the stress of balancing school and work was clearly catching up to you. Yeah, tired. That’s all this is, you thought, repeating it like a mantra.

Ignoring the lingering unease prickling at the back of your neck, you made your way to the counter. The two ripped books Mrs. Choi had left were still there, waiting for you. You dropped the box down with a thud, grabbed the tools you needed, and got to work.

Your hands trembled at first as you smoothed out the torn pages, applying the adhesive carefully. You focused on the process—cutting, pressing, and smoothing out the repair strips—letting the repetitive actions calm your frayed nerves.

This was normal. Fixing books. Doing your job. Nothing weird about that.

Minutes passed. Then longer. The books were almost done, and for a moment, you felt like you could breathe again.

But then, just as you reached for the last tool in the box, a soft tap echoed through the library.

Your hand froze mid-reach, your eyes darting toward the source of the sound.

Tap… tap… tap.

It came from the direction of the shelves, slow and deliberate, like someone tapping their nails against wood.

Your chest tightened as you stared into the rows of books, the library was dark now—darker than it should’ve been. The overhead lights seemed dimmer, casting distorted shadows across the shelves.

You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was the building settling, or the heating system kicking on. Don’t be stupid. You’re just scaring yourself.

Still, you couldn’t help but call out, your voice wavering. “Hello?”

No response.

The tapping stopped.

You stared into the darkness for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, just as you were about to turn back to the books, a book fell from one of the shelves.

The sound was deafening, the thud reverberating through the library like a gunshot.

You jumped, your breath hitching, and spun toward the source. The book lay open on the floor, its pages splayed out like wings.

You didn’t want to go over there. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to stay behind the counter, to leave it alone.

But your feet moved on their own, taking slow, hesitant steps toward the fallen book.

When you finally reached the book, you crouched down, your hand trembling as you picked it up.

Your fingers brushed over the embossed title, and your stomach dropped.

It was the same book you’d seen in the basement.

You gasped, clutching the crimson book tightly as your eyes darted around the library. Maybe this was some sort of prank? Someone could have grabbed the book from the basement and planted it here to scare you.

“Hello?” you called out again, but the library was still empty, silent.

Your breathing quickened as you scanned the shelves, desperate to catch a glimpse of anyone—a student pulling some cruel joke, or maybe Mrs. Choi coming back to check on you. But there was no one.

You hurried back to the counter, your heart racing, and turned on the computer. Your fingers fumbled as you brought up the CCTV footage, the small screen flickering to life. You scrubbed through the past hour, watching yourself walking back and forth, grabbing the box, and fixing the books.

Nothing.

No one else had entered the library. The hallways and shelves were empty. It was just you, moving around, completely alone.

Well… almost.

You paused the footage, your heart sinking as your eyes locked onto a shadow. It was faint, barely distinguishable, but for one brief frame, something seemed to linger in the corner of the screen. Not a person, but… something.

It was gone in the next frame.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope,” you muttered under your breath, slamming the monitor off.

You looked at the crimson book sitting on the counter, its cover gleaming faintly under the dim light. It felt wrong—its very presence seemed to thrum.

Without thinking, you grabbed it and tossed it into the nearest trash bin, making sure it landed deep under crumpled paper and leftover scraps.

“There,” you said to yourself, your voice shaky. “Done.”

Forcing yourself to focus, you went back to finishing the torn books, your hands working faster than ever. As soon as the repairs were complete, you shoved the box under the counter and hurried to turn off the lights.

The library plunged into darkness, the faint moonlight filtering through the windows barely enough to guide you as you locked the doors behind you.

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside. The campus was quiet, the lampposts casting long shadows across the pathways.

You tightened your coat around you and began the walk home, your footsteps echoing loud. Every so often, you glanced over your shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that someone was following you.

But the path behind you was always empty.

Still, the unease stayed with you, like a cold weight settling deep in your chest.

When you finally reached your apartment, you locked the door behind you, double-checking it twice before collapsing onto the couch. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were just tired, your imagination running wild after a long day.

Before you knew it, sleep had overtaken you. The exhaustion from the long day weighed down on your body like a blanket, pulling you into unconsciousness almost instantly.

But the peace of sleep didn’t last long.

You found yourself in a dimly lit bedroom, one you didn’t recognize. The walls were draped with dark curtains, and the air was heavy with the faint scent of roses. You sat up slowly, blinking in confusion as you tried to make sense of where you were.

“How did I…?” you murmured, your voice trailing off.

Before you could process anything, a voice, smooth and rich like velvet, broke the silence.

“My, you’re even more beautiful up close.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts alluring and unsettling. You whipped your head around, searching for the source, but the shadows in the room seemed to shift and dance, obscuring whoever was speaking to you.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” the voice continued, closer now, almost right beside your ear. “To touch you… to feel you…”

You gasped as a pair of lips suddenly pressed against yours, soft but demanding.

Your initial instinct was to pull away, but the sensation was overwhelming. Your mind grew hazy, a strange warmth spreading through your chest as the kiss deepened. It felt so intoxicating, so magnetic, that you couldn’t help but melt into it.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever experienced—it was all-consuming, as though the very act of it was pulling you further into the dream.

You felt hands brush against your skin, feather-light but firm, holding you in place.

You tried to pull back, but the hands held you steady, the kiss turning more possessive. The warmth you’d felt earlier now burned, searing through your veins as if something was being poured into you.

Panic swelled in your chest, but just as you were about to scream, the room spun violently, and everything went dark.

When your eyes shot open, you were back on your couch, drenched in sweat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, your fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

But the lingering warmth on your lips, the faint ache of the kiss, told you otherwise.

And as you glanced toward the door, you froze.

The crimson book was sitting there, completely untouched, resting on the floor as if it had never been buried at all.

Your blood ran cold.

You scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding as you stared at the book. How was it there again? You knew you’d buried it deep under the pile of scraps.

“Nope. Not dealing with this,” you muttered, your voice shaking but resolute.

You grabbed the book, your fingers brushing against its smooth, cold cover. A strange, pleasant warmth crawled up your arm at the contact, sending shivers through your body. For a fleeting moment, it felt good—too good. Your grip faltered as a soft sigh escaped your lips, unbidden.

No.

Shaking your head fiercely, you tightened your grip and turned toward the window. Without hesitating, you threw it open, the cool night air brushing against your flushed face.

With all the strength you could muster, you hurled the book out. It spiraled through the air before landing with a dull thud on the damp grass below.

You leaned against the windowsill, watching the book. It lay there, unmoving.

Relief coursed through you.

“That’s it,” you whispered. “Stay there. Stay gone.”

Slamming the window shut, you locked it, double-checking the latch before stepping back.

You needed to clear your head, to shake off the strange sensations still crawling under your skin. Heading to the bathroom, you stripped off your clothes.

The shower hissed to life, steam rising as the water warmed. You stepped under the stream, letting the heat cascade over you, washing away the sweat and fear clinging to your body.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to convince yourself it was all in your head. Just a bad day. Just a stressful, weird day.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of the water beating against your skin filling your ears as you focused on your breathing. It’s fine. It’s just your imagination. Nothing weird is going on. You’re tired, just tired, you repeated in your mind.

The water seemed colder now, even though the temperature hadn't changed, and a shiver ran down your spine. You’re overthinking it. Just get out of the shower and relax, you told yourself, but your hands felt heavy as you reached for the soap.

Just as you were about to wash your face, a soft tap echoed from somewhere beyond the bathroom door.

You froze, the motion of your hands stalling in midair.

Tap... Tap...

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes darted to the bathroom door.

It was all too familiar. You couldn’t breathe, your chest tightening as the sound echoed louder in your mind.

No. No. It’s just the house settling. Maybe it’s the pipes. Just the pipes.

But the words felt hollow in your mind, the fear building with every passing second. The taps grew louder, clearer, almost closer.

You turned off the water quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. You stood there, motionless, listening, waiting for the sound to stop.

But it didn’t.

And then a creak. Just slightly, but enough for you to hear.

You gasped, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself as you backed away, your legs shaking. Your mind screamed at you to leave the bathroom, to get out of the apartment, but you couldn’t move.

Then, before you could react, the door opened, just a crack.

There was nothing on the other side.

Just the empty hallway beyond.

But you knew. You knew it wasn’t right.

You slammed the door shut and locked it immediately, your breath ragged. The air in the bathroom felt stifling now, the walls pressing in on you, the space shrinking.

Your hand trembled as you reached for your phone, desperate to call someone, anyone.

But the screen flickered as soon as you unlocked it. The text on the screen was warped, unreadable. You stared at it for a moment, your stomach dropping. Something wasn’t right with your phone either.

A sharp, guttural whisper curled through the air, a voice so low you barely caught it.

The voice was so faint at first, you thought it was just a figment of your imagination, a trick your mind had played in the silence. But then it came again, clear and sharp, wrapping around your senses like a heavy fog.

“Come closer...”

It was soft, smooth, but there was an undeniable edge to it—laced with something... something tempting.

You froze, the words swirling in your mind. It wasn’t your own voice. It was deeper, resonating through you, the very air around you thick with a strange pull. Your chest tightened, and you felt something shift within you, an involuntary tug deep inside your stomach, urging you forward.

“Just one touch... just one kiss...”

The voice slithered, curling into your ear like a lover’s whisper, and something about it stirred the air around you. Your body was heating up, your skin prickling with a strange energy you couldn't explain.

You swallowed hard, your breath quickening as you stared at the mirror, trying to make sense of what was happening.

That’s when you felt it—an undeniable heat at your back.

It burned, searing through you like something alive, something that wanted you. Your breath hitched, and you spun around in a panic, expecting to see someone behind you, but the bathroom was empty, the space cold and silent.

But the heat didn’t fade.

It lingered, crawling across your skin like a heavy presence, sending shivers up your spine. There was no one there, but the sensation of being watched was there. Your body tensed, the warmth spreading through your entire body now, suffocating you, as if someone was right there, pressed against you, whispering into your very soul.

“It’s just us now…”

You glanced into the mirror once more, and there it was again—the figure. This time, it was clearer, its shadowy outline just behind you, impossibly close. The reflection wasn’t yours—it was someone else, standing so close that the hairs on your neck stood on end.

You gasped, heart pounding, but the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. It simply stood.

The heat intensified, and the whisper grew louder, more insistent, as if it had taken root in your mind.

“Come to me... you know you want to...”

Your pulse raced. The pull in your chest was growing stronger now, as if your body was no longer your own, as if it was being drawn to something that wasn’t just a dream anymore.

The room began to spin, and you had to grip the edge of the sink to steady yourself, feeling dizzy as the desire to obey, to give in, washed over you. But as you fought it, something else caught your eye in the mirror—something that made your blood run cold.

A pair of glowing eyes pierced through the shadows, locked on you. And they were hungry.

You staggered back, heart slamming against your ribcage, and in the corner of your vision, you saw a fleeting glimpse of something—something moving, shifting in the dark.

No… You wanted to scream, to run, but your body wouldn’t move. Your limbs felt like lead, and the heat had become unbearable, pressing into you, dragging you toward it.

With a strangled breath, you finally tore your gaze away from the mirror, blinking furiously to rid yourself of the image. But the voice didn’t stop. It echoed inside your mind, growing louder.

“We’re bound now... there’s no going back…”

You tried to pull away, tried to break free of the suffocating heat and the unbearable pressure, but you couldn’t move. It was as if invisible hands were holding you in place. Your body, already trembling from the overwhelming sensations, was paralyzed as the touch slowly traveled up your arms.

It was light, ghostly, like fingertips grazing over your skin—soft, but burning with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t. The sensation slid up to your shoulders, your neck, curling around you.

The moment it brushed your throat, the pressure seemed to increase, suffocating you. The touch lingered there, just under your jawline, fingers gentle yet firm. And then, before you could think, before you could react, you felt something else—lips.

A kiss.

But not from anyone you could see.

Your eyes snapped shut, your breath shallow as the kiss deepened, warm and intoxicating. It was urgent, burning, and wrong, but in a way that felt too good to resist. You tried to move, tried to pull back, but the invisible force held you in place, pushing you further into the kiss.

It was there, all around you—this overwhelming feeling of being wanted, of being pulled into something. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, fear and desire mingling into a sickening cocktail. The sensation of lips on yours, it felt alive, like the very essence of the kiss was drawing something from you.

A low, satisfied murmur vibrated against your lips, and something deep within you shivered.

No… stop, please… You tried to scream in your mind, but your body didn’t obey. You couldn’t pull away from it.

You were being pulled into it, held captive by something invisible, something that wasn't human. But what? What was kissing you, claiming you like this?

The answer felt just out of reach, like a whisper that barely brushed against your mind, too faint to grasp, too slippery to hold onto. The sensation of lips—too warm, too alive—pressed against yours again, and your strength began to wane. It was as if every breath you took was being drained, pulled out from you with each passing second. You felt weak, too weak to move, too weak to even think.

Your body, once full of fear, had gone completely limp, like a ragdoll strung up and held in place by an invisible force. The pressure around your throat tightened, suffocating, but you could do nothing to fight it. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t even blink—all your energy was consumed, sucked away by whatever was holding you captive, by the kiss that wasn't a kiss.

You could feel your mind slipping, like your thoughts were dissolving into the heat, into the darkness surrounding you. The invisible force—was it a presence? A shadow?—held you in place, guiding you, manipulating you, as if you were a puppet and it was pulling your strings.

But still, the sensation of being claimed lingered, you tried to focus, tried to break free, but it was no use. Every attempt only made you feel smaller, more powerless, like you were losing yourself bit by bit.

Was this what it wanted?

Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore. It felt... distant. Detached. Like you were a spectator in your own skin, watching as the thing—whatever it was—wove its tendrils around you.

Just as the world around you seemed to fade, a distant whisper echoed through the fog of your mind:

"Mine now."

The words wrapped around you like a heavy chain, pulling tighter and tighter until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel the floor beneath you anymore.

You were slipping away, your body fading into nothingness, held together only by the force that had claimed you.

"Mine forever."

When you woke up, it wasn’t like any other morning. You felt... tired. Groggy, and exhausted. As you stretched, you looked around the room, everything exactly as you left it, nothing unusual. It felt normal.

When you arrived at school, you couldn’t focus. The lessons droned on, but your mind kept wandering. You couldn't shake the feeling from last night. There was a gnawing curiosity deep inside you, a need to know what had happened, to make sense of it. You couldn’t just ignore it—your body wasn’t the same.

You pulled out your laptop in the middle of class, and you typed furiously. Your fingers flew over the keys, searching for any explanation that made sense, some kind of rational answer.

You found nothing but chaos.

The results were all over the place: demons, rituals, ghosts, whispers about curses and creatures from myths, things you thought only existed in horror stories. At first, you dismissed it. This can’t be real, you told yourself. But the deeper you went, the more it all seemed... possible.

And then you found it.

Incubus demons.

Your stomach twisted as you read more. The descriptions, the encounters—everything fit too perfectly. A demon, often seductive, one that could manipulate dreams, feed off your energy, entwine itself with you in the most intimate of ways. It would drain you slowly, filling you with warmth, with need, until it had you completely. Some even said an incubus could bind you to them—forever.

You felt a shiver creep down your spine. Was this what had happened to you? Could it be real? Could the thing you felt, the presence that had been with you, be an incubus?

The deeper you read, the more it made sense. The powerlessness, the way you felt unable to stop it, to resist. The hunger, the overwhelming desire. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn't dream it.

You were still lost in thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. You gathered your things mechanically, your mind still reeling from the unsettling information you had uncovered. The words about incubus demons echoed in your head, each sentence making you feel more and more trapped.

As you packed your bag, your hand brushed against something unfamiliar. A cold chill ran through you, and your stomach dropped. You froze for a second, staring at your bag with a creeping sense of dread. Slowly, you opened it, and your eyes widened.

The book.

The crimson-red book. The one you had thrown out the window, the one you’d left behind—it was here, in your bag.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your fingers trembling as you touched the book. It was impossible. How could it be here? You distinctly remembered tossing it out, watching it fall to the ground outside your window. You’d even seen it land on the grass—it couldn’t have just come back.

A deep sense of dread filled your chest as your fingers slowly curled around the cover. You could feel the pull of it again, that same suffocating desire that called to you, whispered to you.

You quickly closed the bag, as if hiding it would make it go away.

How... how was this possible?

Your mind raced, trying to piece it together, but there was no logical explanation. The book had been thrown out. It shouldn’t be here.

And yet, it was.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t in control anymore.

Something was toying with you.

You had just sat down in your next class, trying to focus, but your mind kept wandering. How was it possible? What was happening to you? You barely noticed when the seat beside you shifted, and someone sat down, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You turned your head instinctively, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was... stunning.

Tall, with sharp features and thick eyebrows that gave him an almost commanding presence. A few moles dotted his face, and his eyes were dark, almost mesmerizing, in a way which made your heart race in a way that felt unnatural.

But what really made your stomach flutter was the fact that you’d never seen him before.

Was he in this class?

You racked your brain, trying to recall if you had ever noticed him in the hallways or anywhere else on campus, but nothing came to mind.

He seemed to notice you staring at him, and a sly smile tugged at his lips. He leaned a bit closer, as if he didn’t mind the attention at all, his voice smooth and confident when he spoke.

"Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of his tone. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine."

He chuckled softly, and you felt a strange sensation wash over you, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was unsettling, but you couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"I'm Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon," he said, his smile widening slightly.

You blinked again, now fully aware of how close he was. "Oh, uh, nice to meet you."

You forced a smile, but your heart was beating too fast. There was something about him, something that felt off—but also familiar.

Why did it feel like he already knew you?

The class went by as usual, the minutes dragging on in a haze. Sunghoon didn't speak much after you introducing yourself, but every now and then, you'd catch him glancing at you, his dark eyes glimmering with something you couldn't quite place. You tried to ignore the unease creeping up your spine and focused on the lesson.

By the time class ended, you were relieved to be able to leave. You needed some time to clear your head.

When you arrived at the library, you clocked in and slid behind the counter, but quickly growing bored, you leaned forward and opened the computer, deciding to look up something to distract you. You typed in "demon books," half expecting it to pull up some weird conspiracy theory, but to your surprise, a result popped up. There was a book, right there in the archives—on demons.

Your curiosity flared. This was what you needed.

You grabbed a pen and jotted down the shelf number before heading to the stacks. When you arrived, your eyes searched the shelves, scanning for the number you’d written down. There it was—just out of reach. The book you wanted sat high on the shelf, taunting you. You stretched on your toes, reaching as far as you could, but it was no use. You could feel the frustration rising as you considered your options.

As you were about to give up and turn away, a hand shot up from behind you, effortlessly reaching the book and pulling it down.

You turned around, heart skipping a beat. There, standing just behind you, was Sunghoon. He held the book you had been struggling to get, his expression unreadable.

“Need this?” he asked, his voice casual, almost too smooth.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. Something about the way he said that sent a strange shiver down your spine. It was as if he knew exactly what you were searching for, as if he had been waiting for you to look it up.

“Thanks,” you said, taking the book from him, but your hand brushed against his for a moment longer than necessary. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand away, your face flushing.

“No problem,” he replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling. “Figured you needed a little help.”

You watched him disappear into the rows of books, and the unease from earlier returned, settling deep into your bones.

You don’t even realize what you've walked into, do you? Your deliciousness is like a siren's song, luring me in, and I am a lost soul, destined to follow. I've got you now, and I won't let you go. I'll devour every last piece of you, leaving no part untouched, for you're a feast that I'll savor forever.

Your beauty, it's like a spell, casting a shadow over my heart, and I want to take and take, until you give me everything, for I crave the taste of your soul, the essence of your being.

I think of your skin, smooth as silk, and how it feels under my touch. I imagine the taste of your lips, sweet like nectar, and how they'd satisfy my every craving. I envision your body, and how it yields to my every caress.

I'll trace the map of your body with my hands, my lips, and my heart, marking every inch as my own.

I'll feast on your lips, kiss by kiss, until my soul is satiated. I'll drink from the well of your desire, quench my thirst, and be nourished by your passion. I'll explore the depths of your pleasure, discover the peaks of your ecstasy.

And when I've had my fill, my sweet, I'll still want more. For you're an endless ocean, a bottomless pit of pleasure, and I can never quench my thirst. I'll always want to dive deeper, explore further, and discover more.

You stared at the book in your hands as you made your way back to the counter. And once you sat behind the counter, you placed the book down in front of you, the sound of the pages flipping echoing softly in the quiet library.

You opened the book, the musty scent of old pages filling your nose as you began flipping through it, scanning the words and images. Each page was filled with descriptions of various demons, their powers, their origins, and their terrifying abilities. But you kept your focus, searching for the section you had come here for.

Incubus demons.

When you finally reached the right section, your heart pounded in your chest. The words jumped off the page, unsettlingly familiar. It was like the book was confirming everything you had felt and the more you read, the clearer it became that this was no coincidence.

Incubi, it said, were demons who thrived on energy—specifically life force. They were known to seduce their victims, using dreams, lust, and an overwhelming need for intimacy to drain them. They were powerful, manipulating their prey until they were completely drained, their energy absorbed by the demon.

But what caught your eye was the last part.

"Once an incubus claims someone, it forms a bond—one that cannot be easily broken. The victim becomes a vessel, their soul linked to the demon’s for eternity."

You froze, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. Eternity. Was that what had happened to you? Had you unknowingly made a pact with something otherworldly?

You could feel your pulse quicken as your mind raced. Had you been claimed by the demon? Was it already too late to turn back?

You closed the book abruptly, the sound of it thudding against the counter loudly. You couldn’t breathe. Your stomach twisted, and for a brief moment, you thought you might collapse right there.

Just then, you heard a voice, soft but clear, cutting through the storm of thoughts in your head.

"Are you okay?"

You looked up, startled, and saw Sunghoon standing there, a stack of books in his hands. His eyes were searching your face, brows furrowed in concern.

"Uh... yeah, I’m fine," you stammered, trying to act normal. But you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, the words of the book still fresh in your mind. You quickly gathered your composure and grabbed the books from him, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feelings swirling inside you.

You ran the books through the system, scanning the barcodes one by one, all the while acutely aware of how close Sunghoon was standing.

As you glanced down at the books, you couldn't help but notice the titles—all of them were romance novels. It felt... strange. You glanced back at Sunghoon, trying to read his expression.

"Romance, huh?" you said, attempting to make small talk as you finished scanning the last one. "Didn’t peg you for someone into these kinds of books."

He chuckled softly, a low, smooth sound that made your heart skip again. "I’m not really. But, you know, sometimes it's good to pretend."

You blinked, unsure if you were reading too much into the comment. His smile didn’t help—he always had that air of mystery, like he was saying something and nothing at the same time.

"Thanks for helping with the book earlier," you added, trying to steer the conversation back to something neutral. "I appreciate it."

He shrugged, grabbing the books from on the counter. "No problem. Just looking out for you."

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. It felt like more than just a casual statement. Like he knew something you didn’t. Something you didn’t want to know.

You tried to push the feeling down. You had to stay focused. "Anything else you need?" you asked, attempting to keep things professional.

Sunghoon just smiled again, that strange glimmer in his eyes never fading. "For now, no," he said, his tone teasing. "But I’ll be around."

When your shift finally ended, the night had already settled in, the streets now cast in shadows. You clutched your bag tightly as you walked, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Eventually, you found yourself at the bridge, standing on the edge, the water below reflecting the lights.

You opened your bag, pulling out the crimson red book, the one you had tried so desperately to get rid of. As you held it, you could feel something radiating from it—a pull, tempting you to keep it, to keep following.

You shook, unable to tear your gaze away from the book, as if it were alive, trying to draw you into its dark power. What had happened to you? What had you gotten yourself into?

A cold sweat broke out along your spine, and for a moment, you thought you might lose control. With trembling hands, you lifted the book to toss it into the water, ready to rid yourself of it once and for all.

But just as you were about to throw it off the bridge, you heard a voice behind you, low and rough.

"Hey," the voice called out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You froze, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you turned around.

Standing there was a man—a stranger. His features were sharp, his eyes narrowed in a way that made your stomach turn. There was something off about him, something unsettling in the way he watched you. His gaze was degrading, as if he had already sized you up.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone?" he asked, his voice slithering through the air.

You instinctively took a step back, clutching the book tighter in your hands, there was no mistaking the way his eyes lingered on you, his stare lingering a little too long.

His lips twisted into a grin, and it made your blood run cold. "You don't look like you're in a hurry to leave."

His tone, that smile—everything about him screamed danger, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you fought the urge to run, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

Your breath caught in your throat as the man took a step toward you, his hand reaching out with an unsettling determination. This was it. He was going to—

Suddenly, there was a sharp thud, and the man was thrown backward, crashing to the ground with a pained grunt.

You gasped, startled, and watched in disbelief as a familiar figure stepped besides you.

Sunghoon.

Without hesitation, he lunged at the man, throwing a fist that landed with a sickening crack against the stranger’s face. The man tried to scramble to his feet, but Sunghoon was relentless, his fists moving with precision, each punch landing harder than the last. You could hear the force of each strike, the sound of flesh hitting bone. The man barely had a chance to defend himself, crumpling beneath the force of Sunghoon’s blows.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, transfixed by the brutal scene before you. There was something terrifyingly powerful about Sunghoon right now, his movements were swift and calculated, as if he were punishing the man for something more than just the assault on you.

Your hands shook as you held the book tighter to your chest, you didn’t know why, but it felt like it was alive, pulsing in your grip.

The book was vibrating, faintly at first, but then stronger, almost as though it was purring, responding to the violence — to you.

You ignored it, trying to focus on what was happening in front of you. Sunghoon wasn’t stopping, his anger mounting with each punch.

The man on the ground groaned, clearly dazed, unable to defend himself. Finally, Sunghoon stopped, standing over the man, his breath coming in heavy, measured gasps.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Sunghoon said, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze unwavering. He turned to look at you, eyes locking with yours.

You were still frozen, your heart pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t make sense of it all. The way Sunghoon was acting, the way he looked at you—it was like he wasn’t the same person you’d met in the library. This was someone else.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice softer now, though there was still a sharpness to it.

You nodded, though your voice felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even find the words to thank him, or to ask why he’d come out of nowhere to help you. Why was he here?

Sunghoon glanced down at the man on the ground, his expression unreadable, before he turned to you again, taking a step closer.

"You’re safe now," he said, his voice more comforting this time, though the intensity never fully left his gaze.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the book tighter, trying to shake off the strange feeling it was giving you.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning you before he helped you steady yourself.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his tone lighter, he glanced at the book in your hands, and that smile of his grew, just slightly, as if pleased.

He led you away from the bridge, the cool night air now feeling heavy around you. His presence beside you was comforting, but at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the sense that he was guiding you in more ways than one.

You looked up at him, and he caught your gaze, his smile widening ever so slightly. "Seems like you’ve taken quite the interest in that," he said, his voice soft but with an edge you couldn’t quite place. "You’re holding it tightly."

Your fingers ached as you continued to clutch the book to your chest, your heart still hammering from the encounter. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

"You shouldn’t have to worry anymore," he said, his voice lowering. “You’re safe now.”

Then why did something not feel right? Sunghoon was far too calm, too understanding. As if he already knew everything—everything that had been happening to you.

The way he looked at you, like he was watching, waiting for something.

And for the first time, you realized something that made your stomach twist in unease.

He wasn’t just helping you.

He was guiding you.

The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you immediately noticed it. The book was still pressed against your chest, and for the first time, it felt almost suffocating. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you had been holding onto it the entire time—your knuckles white. It was like it had become a part of you, and that realization twisted something deep within your gut.

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Without even thinking, you hurled the book against the wall, your heart racing as the impact caused it to thud loudly, the book sliding to the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet apartment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat, as if your body had finally caught up to the chaos inside your mind.

For a moment, there was silence. The book lay on the floor, the cover staring up at you, as if mocking your decision. But you were too exhausted to care anymore. Too worn out by everything that had happened.

You stumbled fowards, your legs giving way, and before you knew it, you were sinking onto the couch. Your mind was foggy, too tired to think. Your body ached, your head pounded, but the exhaustion was overpowering. The last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered shut was the book, sitting on the floor.

And the only thing you could think of as you drifted off was how you felt that it wasn’t done with you yet.

You felt so... relaxed? It was like your body was weightless, wrapped in warmth and comfort. The air was thick, almost too hot, and the bed beneath you felt too soft, like sinking into a cloud. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. A grand queen-sized bed stretched out beneath you, luxurious sheets tangled around your legs.

Your head was still foggy, like you were waking from a deep, dreamless sleep. But the discomfort of the heat around you was immediate, and you instinctively pushed the covers away, trying to breathe through the thick air.

That’s when you felt it.

A weight on your body, pressing down, holding you where you lay. Your breath hitched as the sensation of someone’s lips—warm, urgent—pressed against yours. The shock of it made your chest tighten, and you gasped, eyes wide as you tried to push the figure off of you, only to find you couldn’t move.

A voice, soft but laced with something darker, echoed in your mind, almost like a whisper, “Give in.”

Your body stiffened, the words familiar yet chilling. The lips on yours were insistent, coaxing you into submission. You couldn't understand—how did you get here? Why was everything so warm? And why did you feel this strange pull?

The kiss deepened as your breath quickened, and the moment your hands tried to reach above you, they tightened their grip. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think.

You wanted to push away. You wanted to scream. But you couldn’t. You were trapped in this sensation, helpless.

You felt so good. So pleasant. Every part of you hummed with a warmth, an overwhelming comfort, like sinking into the softest dream. But with it came an exhaustion, a draining weariness you couldn't fight.

As the lips moved from your mouth down to your jaw, trailing soft, slow kisses, you felt your body go limp beneath them. You tried to stay alert, to keep your mind sharp, but the sensation was too much. The warmth, the pleasure, it was like it was melting you from the inside out. Your energy, your strength, seemed to vanish with every kiss, every press of lips against your sensitive skin. You couldn't fight it. It felt too good.

A small gasp escaped your lips as they moved lower, their touch leaving a trail of warmth on your neck, then your collarbone. The sensation was both soothing and dizzying, like you were drifting between wakefulness and sleep. You felt so tired, but the pleasure pulling you under kept you from fully giving in.

Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, quickening with each new kiss, each lingering touch. The sound of your breath was louder than the rest of the world, but even that was fading. You could barely hold onto your thoughts, the desire to move, to push, slipped further and further away.

And then you realized—there was nothing you could do. You didn’t want to.

You felt something deep inside you stir, a craving, a hunger that matched the pull of the lips against your skin. You were being drained, yes, but it also felt like it was what you needed.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to it. You let your body go, let the exhaustion wash over you, let yourself fall into the warmth of the kiss. You didn’t even care where it was leading anymore.

You felt your body give in completely as the lips on your neck paused, lingering there, and you could hear the soft hum of approval, a low sound of satisfaction. And just like that, it was too late to resist.

As you surrendered to the moment, the hands, ever so gently, pushed your shirt up, exposing more of your skin, as the heat in the room seemed to rise.

The lips, now free to explore, trailed kisses down your stomach, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. His hands slid down to your waist, he squeezed gently, pulling you closer, and you felt his body press against yours.

You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Your body was giving in, responding to him, reacting in ways you couldn't fully comprehend. It was as though you were caught in a web, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His lips moved from your neck, tracing the sensitive line of your jaw before they found your lips again, kissing you. The kiss was hungry now, deeper. You felt his hands tighten around you, as though he couldn’t get close enough, as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

And somehow, it felt... right.

You felt so hazy, your mind clouded by a warm, soothing fog that made it impossible to think clearly. Everything was blurred, all thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand. The weight of your body felt distant, like you were floating. You couldn’t move your limbs, couldn’t even feel them anymore.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of the lips that pressed gently against yours, warm and insistent. Every time they left, it felt like you were waiting, craving the return of that contact. And when they did, you kissed them back instinctively, your lips parting slightly to welcome them.

"Let go," it murmured softly, the sound of it like silk against your mind. "Enjoy this. Let the pleasure take over. You deserve it."

You shivered, feeling the warmth of the words settle deep inside you, pushing aside any lingering doubts, any hesitation. The voice continued, coaxing you, convincing you that this feeling, this moment, was all that mattered. That you didn’t need to resist, that you could simply surrender and feel everything without fear.

There was no fight left in you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely at peace. You didn’t have to think, you didn’t have to worry— just the feeling of being taken care of, loved, and wanted.

You closed your eyes, lost in the comfort, the warmth, and the voice that guided you deeper into the haze.

You woke up suddenly, your mind heavy, still clouded in a haze, and found yourself lying on the couch. You blinked, trying to shake off the fog, and as you looked around, everything seemed perfectly normal.

One thing wasn't normal, though. It was the warmth, the sticky, almost suffocating heat clinging to your skin, like honey trapping you in its sweetness. The sensation was odd, and it was paired with an exhaustion that weighed you down, a tiredness so deep you could barely keep your eyes open.

You managed to sit up and push yourself to your feet, dragging yourself to the bathroom, needing to see your reflection, needing to understand what was happening. The mirror greeted you with an unexpected shock.

Your neck and collarbone were covered in marks—deep, almost bruised-looking impressions, some faint, others dark, like someone had pressed their lips into your skin too hard, leaving their mark. You barely recognized the face staring back at you. Your cheeks were flushed, the kind of flush you’d never get from just a long day, and your eyes looked distant.

You kept staring at your reflection, eyes wide in disbelief, and slowly pulled your shirt off, but what greeted you beneath your clothes made your breath catch in your throat.

Handprints. Dark, unmistakable imprints stretched across your waist, your hips, and even down to your thighs. It was like someone had gripped you there with force, leaving their mark on your skin, as if they couldn’t resist claiming every part of you.

You stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. The more you looked, the more it seemed to confirm your theory.

An incubus had done this.

But the memories were murky, like a dream fading in the light of day. You couldn't remember the specifics, but the evidence was undeniable.

You were cursed.

The thought sent a shiver through your body. There was no other explanation. It was all pointing to something beyond your control, something that wanted you, that had claimed you.

But what did it want from you? Why you?

The mirror reflected your confusion, your unease, and your disbelief. Your hand instinctively reached up to touch the marks, your fingers brushing lightly over your skin. Each touch sent a wave of heat through you, a reminder that something was still there, still affecting you, even when you had no idea what was really going on.

Days passed in a strange blur after that. Each time you tried to focus, tried to pull yourself together, the exhaustion dragged you down further. You couldn’t remember when it had started, when your body began to feel like it was no longer your own, but it was now a part of your reality. Every night, you’d find yourself drifting off to sleep, only to wake up once again in that grand bed, under the same warmth, your body burning.

The familiar sensation of lips on yours, the heat of his hands—each kiss drained you, leaving you weak and confused. It felt as though the very life force was being sucked out of you, but you were too tired to resist. Too tired to care. The next morning, you would wake up again, just as exhausted, with the marks on your skin deepening, the imprint of his touch still there. You tried to push through the haze, but it felt like you were walking through quicksand.

And then there was Sunghoon.

He was there for you in ways you couldn’t explain. It started small—offering to walk you to class, making sure you ate something, checking in on you when you seemed too tired to function. You didn’t fight it. You were too exhausted to.

You would often find yourself slumped at the counter, fighting to keep your eyes open, and there he was, showing up with something to drink or a comforting word, offering you a brief respite from the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to cling to your every movement. You didn’t realize at first that you were relying on him, leaning on him without question.

But Sunghoon didn’t mind. In fact, he thrived in this new dynamic, in your dependence on him. He reveled in the way you’d look to him for comfort, for answers, for protection. You didn’t know how much it fed into his desires, how much he enjoyed being the one to offer you care, to have you rely on him completely.

And you? You were too tired to notice. Too lost in the fog of exhaustion, the haze of what was happening to you.

But.. the more time you spent with Sunghoon, the more you began to notice the oddities that you’d once brushed off. He was always there, always watching, always making sure you were okay. But something about him felt... off. It wasn’t just his constant attention—it was the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, before you even asked for it. It was the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, his smile a little too knowing, like he was seeing something in you that no one else did.

Then, there was the issue with his past. Sunghoon never spoke about it. When you asked about his family or where he grew up, his answers were vague, brushing off the topic with a quick change of subject. No traces of a life outside of the moments he spent with you.

It didn’t make sense. You had seen him around campus, so you knew he wasn’t a complete ghost. But there were no photos, no friends tagging him on social media, no history to trace. He was just... there. As if he had stepped out of nowhere and appeared in your life, and now he was all you could focus on.

Something about him felt wrong, and the pieces were starting to fall into place. But you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning on him, allowing him to take care of you. You didn’t know what to think anymore, especially since you were so tired, so lost in the fog of exhaustion that you couldn’t tell if your thoughts were your own or if they were being influenced by something else.

So, you decided to test your theory—to see what would happen if you suddenly started ignoring him. It wasn’t easy. Sunghoon always seemed to find a way to be around you, whether it was sitting next to you in class or showing up at the library while you worked. But you were determined. You stopped texting him back, avoided his gaze, and made excuses to leave whenever he tried to engage you in conversation.

At first, he didn’t seem bothered by it. He would simply smile when you dodged him, as if he already knew why you were doing it. That unnerved you more than anything else. It was like he could see right through you, like he knew your thoughts before you did.

But as the days went on, his demeanor started to shift. His smiles became tighter, his gaze colder, and the once-comforting presence he exuded started to feel suffocating. He wasn’t following you outright, but every time you turned a corner, you’d catch him in your peripheral vision—leaning against a wall, walking just a few steps behind you, always near enough to remind you that he was there.

One night, after a particularly long shift at the library, you came home and collapsed onto your couch, exhaustion washing over you. The moment you closed your eyes, you found yourself back in that bed again.

But this time, there was a whisper. A deep, seductive voice you hadn’t heard before.

"You can’t ignore me forever."

Your eyes snapped open, your heart pounding. You were back on your couch, drenched in sweat, and your hands were trembling. You instinctively gripped the edge of the couch as you tried to ground yourself, but the tremor in your fingers betrayed how shaken you really were. The room was quiet—too quiet. It felt as though something was watching you, just out of sight.

Your gaze darted toward the windows, scanning for any sign of movement, but the curtains were still drawn shut. Slowly, you reached for your phone on the coffee table, wanting the comfort of a light, a distraction—anything. As the screen lit up, you noticed the time. 3:03 a.m.

And then you saw it.

A single notification. It wasn’t from anyone in your contacts, just an unknown number. You hesitated before opening it, dread settling in your stomach like a lead weight. The message read:

"Stop running."

You dropped the phone as though it had burned you, the clatter breaking the suffocating silence. Your breaths came shallow and quick as you stared at the device, afraid it would light up again.

No. This had to stop.

You pushed yourself off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom, your legs weak beneath you. Splashing cold water on your face, you tried to steady your breathing.

You gripped the edge of the sink, your knuckles turning white as you leaned forward, staring at your pale reflection in the mirror. Your breaths came shallow and uneven as you tried to process everything.

It didn’t make sense—none of it did. But your thoughts kept circling back to Sunghoon. His perfect timing, his uncanny presence, the way he seemed to know more than he let on.

Your throat felt dry as you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to say it.

“Sunghoon?”

The sound of his name echoed faintly in the small bathroom. You waited, holding your breath, your heart pounding louder and louder in your chest. Nothing happened.

For a moment, you felt ridiculous, like you were spiraling into paranoia. You let out a shaky exhale and closed your eyes, trying to collect yourself. But then, just as you started to relax, you felt it.

A heat began to radiate behind you, warm and heavy, pressing against your back like a presence. The air shifted, and before you could react, a soft whisper brushed against your ear.

“Did you miss me?”

Your eyes snapped open, wide with terror, as you froze in place. The mirror reflected nothing behind you, but the heat remained, and the voice lingered, teasingly low and intimate.

“Y-you’re not real,” you stammered, gripping the sink tighter, refusing to turn around.

The voice chuckled, soft and amused. “Oh, but I am. You called me, didn’t you? Thinking of me? Dreaming of me?”

A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth seemed to creep closer, pressing against you like an invisible embrace. You gasped, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of whatever was behind you.

“I-I wasn’t—”

“Liar,” the voice interrupted, a trace of playfulness in its tone. “You’ve been looking for answers, haven’t you?”

You felt something brush against your shoulder, light as a feather but enough to make your skin tingle. Your breathing quickened as the sensation spread, leaving you dizzy and disoriented.

“Stop,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

But the voice only hummed in response, low and pleased. “You can’t run from me. You’ve known that all along.”

“I never wanted this!” you shouted, your voice trembling but firm, defiance breaking through your fear. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

The air around you grew colder, and suddenly a hand—a firm, invisible grip—wrapped around your throat. You gasped, your hands flying up instinctively to claw at nothing.

“Oh, but you did,” the voice purred, smooth and dark, vibrating through the room. The grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your pulse race, but not enough to harm you. It was a warning.

“You put this on yourself the moment you read the words in that book,” the voice hissed, hot breath fanning over your ear. “Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum. Do you even know what that means?”

You shook your head frantically, tears pricking at your eyes as you struggled against the phantom hand holding you in place. The voice chuckled, low and condescending.

“It means, ‘Who reads me, let our bond be eternal.’ You invited me in.”

Your breath hitched as the words hit you like a punch to the gut. The book. The book in the basement. The words you read aloud.

“That’s not possible,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “It’s just a stupid book. It—it can’t be real!”

The laughter that followed was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, it’s very real. And now, so am I.”

In the mirror, the reflection began to change. The shadow behind you shifted, growing more defined, more solid. Your eyes widened in horror as the silhouette morphed, taking shape, and then—

There he was.

Sunghoon.

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t believe it, but there was no mistaking him. The sharp jawline, the intense gaze, the faint smirk curling his lips. It was him.

Sunghoon stood behind you, his hand still firmly around your throat, his touch searing and impossible to ignore. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, and you shivered under the weight.

“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, panic rising in your chest. “This— you’re not—”

“Not what?” Sunghoon interrupted, tilting his head as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not human? Not the man who’s been taking care of you? Or not the one who’s been in your dreams, night after night?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. The pieces were falling into place, but they painted a picture you didn’t want to see.

“You were so lonely,” Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now, almost tender. “So desperate for someone to understand you. And I came to you, didn’t I? Gave you exactly what you needed.”

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, his grip on your throat loosening just enough for you to take a shaky breath.

“But you’re scared now. Why?” he asked, his tone almost teasing, as if he already knew the answer. “You’ve enjoyed this, haven’t you? The attention, the way I’ve made you feel.”

“No,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “You tricked me. This isn’t what I wanted.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widened, his reflection in the mirror impossibly calm, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “But you can’t lie to me.”

“We’re bound now, you and I,” he whispered, his voice soft but laced with finality. “You can’t run from me. You can’t hide. And deep down, you don’t want to.”

You stared at him in the mirror, your chest heaving, your mind screaming for you to fight back, to do something, anything. But your body betrayed you, frozen in place as Sunghoon’s reflection smiled, dark and triumphant.

His grip tightened around your arms as he suddenly spun you around effortlessly, your back slamming against the cold countertop. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the impact sent a jolt through your body, and you found yourself face to face with him.

Only... it wasn’t entirely him.

Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you took in his appearance. Sunghoon was still the same—his sharp features, his impossibly handsome face—but now, his true form was on full display.

Two curved, jet-black horns protruded from his head, his ears were pointed, inhumanly sharp, twitching slightly as though attuned to every sound you made. A pair of massive, leathery wings stretched out behind him. His skin held a faint reddish tint now, and his eyes...

They weren’t what you’d grown accustomed to.

They were blood-red, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak.

As your gaze traveled lower, you caught sight of a sleek black tail swishing behind him, the pointed tip moving back and forth like a serpent poised to strike.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon asked, his voice low and smooth, laced with amusement.

You couldn’t answer. Your lips parted, but no sound came out as you stared up at him, utterly frozen. He leaned in closer, the heat radiating from him making it even harder to think, to breathe.

“You should’ve known,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You should’ve felt it. I’ve been hiding in plain sight this whole time, waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Sunghoon...” you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you tried to push him away, but your arms felt like they were moving through water—slow, weak, powerless.

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent heat flooding through your chest. “Still clinging to the illusion, huh? Poor thing.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with an almost tender touch.

“This is the real me,” he said softly, his voice dripping with dangerous charm. “And now that you’ve seen it, there’s no going back.” His wings shifted slightly behind him, the sound making your stomach twist in unease. His tail flicked once, curling against your leg in a way that made your skin crawl—and, to your shame, sent a strange warmth pooling in your chest.

“You’re lying,” you said weakly, your voice barely audible. “This isn’t happening...”

Sunghoon tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to make it even more unsettling. “Lying?” he repeated, his voice almost offended. “Sweet thing, everything I’ve done has been the truth. You just didn’t want to see it.”

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his red eyes locking onto yours with a hypnotic intensity. “But now you can’t ignore it, can you? You can’t ignore me.”

You gasped, your body trembling as his tail coiled tighter around your leg, holding you in place. “You belong to me now,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice final. “And nothing will change that.”

You clenched your eyes shut, your entire body trembling as you willed it all to disappear. You thought maybe—just maybe—if you denied it long enough, it would go away. That he would go away.

But it didn’t work.

Instead, you heard his low, amused chuckle. The sound was rich and dark, crawling into your ears and embedding itself into your mind.

“You can’t escape me,” he murmured. And before you could protest, his lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath and overwhelming your senses.

The kiss was searing, a fire that burned its way through your body and left you paralyzed. It wasn’t soft or careful—it was commanding, leaving no room for resistance.

Sunghoon...

Sunghoon was an incubus.

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight, but your body wouldn’t listen. The warmth from his lips spread through you like molten lava, making you weak, making you feel... good. Too good.

You tried to turn your head, to break the connection, but his hand gripped your jaw firmly, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a skill that made your knees feel like jelly, and the heat radiating off him felt almost suffocating.

When he finally pulled back, your head spun, your breaths shallow and uneven. His glowing red eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the satisfaction etched across his face.

“See?” he purred, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re not resisting me.”

You shook your head weakly, trying to deny it. “You’re not... I won’t...” you stammered, but even as the words left your lips, they sounded hollow.

Sunghoon leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You already gave yourself to me the moment you opened that book.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his words. You’d read the words without understanding what they meant, unknowingly binding yourself to him.

“You belong to me now,” he said, his voice soft but firm, his hand trailing down to rest on your waist. “No running. No escaping.”

His tail flicked lazily at his side, as if he were toying with you, enjoying your fear and confusion.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sunghoon continued, his tone shifting to something almost... tender. “You won’t need anyone else. You won’t want anyone else.”

You clenched your fists, trying to fight against the pull he had on you, the way his words seemed to seep into your mind like poison.

“What do you want from me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I already have what I want,” he said simply, his hand tilting your chin up so you couldn’t look away. “You.”

His hand slid up to your throat again, his grip firm but not enough to hurt—just enough to remind you who was in control. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, and before you could think or protest, his lips captured yours again.

This time, the kiss was more intense. It was intoxicating, a dizzying, heady sensation that left you feeling drunk and high at the same time, though there wasn’t a hint of nausea.

Instead, you felt consumed, like your body and mind were being submerged in a warm ocean. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

Your hands gripped the edge of the bathroom counter behind you, trying to ground yourself, but the heat only grew. It curled in your stomach, spread up your spine, and flooded every corner of your being.

Sunghoon’s lips left yours only briefly, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed down your jaw, tracing a path to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You couldn’t respond, your head spinning, your body trembling. Every word he spoke seemed to sink into your skin, fusing with your very being.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your ear. “No one else can make you feel like this. No one else can take care of you like I can.”

When he finally pulled back, his red eyes burned into yours, glowing with satisfaction.

“Say it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your pulse. “Say you’re mine.”

You hesitated, your lips parting, but no words came out. Your mind was a swirling mess of emotions, torn between the primal pull he had over you and the small flicker of defiance still burning in your chest.

Sunghoon leaned closer, his smirk returning as he tilted your chin up slightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ll say it soon enough.”

With that, he released you, stepping back just enough to let you breathe, though the heat still clung to your skin like a second layer. Your knees felt weak, your body trembling, and you gripped the counter to keep from collapsing.

“Rest for now,” he said, his tone almost affectionate. “We’ll see each other again soon.”

And with a flick of his tail and a low hum of satisfaction, he vanished, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bathroom, your body still warm and your mind reeling from what had just happened.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Sunghoon’s persistence wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation—it was something far deeper. When an incubus claimed a human, it seemed, their desire turned into a relentless obsession. Sunghoon took every opportunity to have you, to pull you into the haze of his presence, leaving you breathless and weak in his wake.

In the library, you were shelving books in the far corner, but then, you felt it—the familiar warmth crawling up your spine. Before you could turn, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around and pressing you against the shelf.

“Sunghoon—” you started, but your words were cut off as his lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry.

The books nearly toppled from the shelf as his body pinned you in place. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before lifting you up effortlessly, your back pressed to the shelf. His kisses left you dizzy, your hands clinging to his shoulders for balance as his lips trailed down your jaw, his voice low murmurs.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your body trembling. He smiled, his red eyes glowing faintly. “Couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

In the kitchen, you thought you’d have a moment of peace as you cooked dinner, but of course, he appeared again.

You didn’t even hear him approach before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter.

“Sunghoon!” you protested, but your voice wavered as his lips found yours, silencing any resistance.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them slightly as he stood between them, his kisses consuming. The heat of the stove was nothing compared to the fire he ignited in you with every touch.

“You taste better than anything you’re cooking,” he teased against your lips, as you shivered under his touch.

Even in class, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. At first, it was subtle—a hand resting on your thigh under the desk. But his touch was anything but innocent. His fingers pressed into your skin, his grip firm enough to leave an imprint through the fabric of your jeans.

One day, you made the mistake of wearing a skirt to class. His reaction was immediate.

His eyes darkened the moment he saw you, his gaze lingering on your legs with a hunger. The skirt seemed to drive him wild, and he didn’t bother to hide the want in his eyes as he took the seat beside you.

During the lecture, his hand found its way to your thigh again, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your bare skin. Every touch sent shivers up your spine, your pulse quickening as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You didn’t answer, your face burning as you tried to focus on the professor’s voice. But Sunghoon wasn’t letting you off so easily. His hand slid higher, just enough to make you squirm in your seat.

By the end of class, you were a mess, your legs trembling as you tried to stand. Sunghoon, of course, looked perfectly composed.

But one event made you realize just how far Sunghoon's obsession had gone happened unexpectedly.

You had just finished getting ready, dressed to go out to the club, your outfit on point, and your makeup perfectly done. You were about to put on some music for the drive when suddenly, you heard a soft hum from behind you.

The sound was so familiar, so calming that you couldn’t help but pause. The familiar haze crept in, clouding your thoughts. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt a shift in your surroundings. The next thing you knew, you were no longer sitting in the front seat of your car but instead found yourself in the backseat, sitting on Sunghoon's lap.

“You going somewhere?” he asked, his voice smooth, leaning back, his eyes filled with contentment. He seemed to be enjoying the view of you on his lap, your body pressed against his, all dressed up.

You were about to move off, muttering to yourself about how utterly stupid this situation was.

However, before you could push him away, Sunghoon's hands went around your hips. He pulled you closer, his body pressing into yours, and then, with a sudden thrust, he lifted you off his lap.

The movement was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. You let out a surprised squeal as you found yourself being moved to lay down on the backseat. Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing down on yours, his eyes filled with a fiery passion.

You were on the brink of speaking, your mind filled with thoughts you wanted to express, when suddenly, Sunghoon's lips crashed down on yours, silencing your words in an instant.

His lips, soft yet demanding, devoured yours, a perfect blend of tenderness and dominance. Sunghoon groaned into the kiss, a deep, raw sound that reverberated through your core. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. And as his kiss deepened, you felt him wrap your legs around his hips. You could feel the heat of his body, the solidness of his muscles, and the intensity.

You felt a sudden urge to pull away, to regain some sense of control and composure. With a gentle push, you tried to create some distance between you and Sunghoon. But Sunghoon, ever attuned to your every move, wasn’t about to let you escape so easily. As you tried to shift, reaching for the car door, his hands swiftly grabbed your waist, his strong arms pulling you closer. His chest pressed against your back, and you turned your head, your breath quickening as Sunghoon leaned over, his face now inches from yours.

His voice, soft and teasing, broke through your thoughts. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his tone low, almost playful.

You couldn’t find the words to answer, but you could feel the heat rising between you.

Sunghoon, sensing your hesitation, nuzzled his face against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The soft touch of his lips traced a path along your neck, sending a jolt of warmth through you. You shivered at the sensation, unable to stop the flutter in your chest.

"Sunghoon..." you breathed, trying to push him away again, but his hands tightened around your waist. He didn’t let you move, holding you there.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You want me to slow down?” he teased, his voice amused.

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat between you both. The car, once cool, now felt stifling, the air thick. You glanced over at the windows, noticing that the glass had fogged up, the condensation creeping in.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tried to focus, but it was hard with him so near, his breath warm against your neck. You could feel him pressed against your back, his hands still holding you close.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely a breath, caught between uncertainty and desire. You shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but he gently tugged you back, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Why resist?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it, a quiet demand. His lips brushed against your earlobe, sending another shiver down your spine. “We both know you don’t want to.”

The fog on the windows seemed to grow thicker, the air growing warmer with every passing second, as if the space between you was becoming smaller.

You didn’t answer him right away, just closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to clear your mind.

But Sunghoon's voice broke the silence as he gazed at you. "You look perfect," he said, his eyes roving over your body, taking in every detail. "So delectable, it's as if you're offering yourself on a silver platter."

His hands, which had been resting on your waist, slowly slid downwards, tracing the curves of your hips with a gentle touch.

"I want to ruin your makeup," he said, his voice low. "I want to mark you as mine, to leave my touch on you."

His hands, which had been gently caressing your body, suddenly tightened around your hips. With a swift movement, he flipped you over, and you found yourself lying on your back, staring up at him with surprise.

"I want to look at you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want to see your beautiful face, your eyes, your lips, as I kiss you."

His lips, soft yet demanding, pressed against yours, a perfect show of passion. His hands roamed freely, tracing the curves of your body. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, a gentle caress that sent a rush of pleasure through your body.

Guess this is what happens when you get claimed by an incubus in love.

a/n: well.. i have no other words. this had been sitting in my drafts for awhile so, yeah :)

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muscle-gods-only · 2 days ago

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I’m the night shift manager at the local gym. Here in our small town, our gym closes at 9 PM and closes at 5 AM. Those are also my hours. When I arrive at 9, I take care of restocking the retail area and anything else that needs to be done. Then I workout from 9:30 to midnight (I reorder and put away the weights as I workout and I clean the machines as I use them). After that I rest (I have a cot to nap in) and eat. From 2 AM until 4 AM I work out again, then I clean, search the whole building for hidden stashes of juice/gear and prepare the gym for opening. I usually stay for half an hour to an hour to help morning shift get through the morning rush. These guys that work at my gym have seen me morph myself from a tiny little pip-squeak into the massive god you see before you. I have become so big so fast that not everyone in town knows how big I am yet. I mean just the other day, I took my car to the service station and my old school bully came out to fill my car. He didn’t even recognize me at all. In fact a minute after I left he called telling me to call my bank because the gigantic monster of a man had it. He said the he knew that he was supposed to keep it, but, well as he said “ This gigantic muscular monstrous beast was absolutely terrifying! No human can be this big or strong. Whatever he was, he was a total freak of nature! It’s best to let the police and bank handle it. I mean, I a big guy, but this dude could crush me like a tomato! You don’t want to upset this unholy creature!” As he went on, I got harder and harder, eventually when he mentioned that he was scared, I got a wet spot! So I changed my pants and went down there. He started to run away from me when he saw me. I called his name. He stopped and I told him who I am. “Shit you are big! I didn’t recognize you. Please don’t kill me! I did horrible things to you and I am so very sorry!” He exclaimed. I walked closer to him and said, “Look, that’s water under the bridge. Most of the scars have healed. I need to know why? What did I do?” He told me that his dad beat and demoralized him constantly and thought that he wasn’t man enough. He said that I was smart, funny and that my face was cute. I thought: oh he must be gay and his old man doesn’t like it. It turns out that I was right. I told him that instead of beating him up, I should hug him. He hugged me and we both healed a lot. I think I have a new boyfriend and lifting partner!

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starvrse · 2 days ago

Text

MARK OF POSSESSION

pairing : kang noeul x fem!reader

summary : noeul just wanted what was best for you. and what was best for you was her.

warnings : controlling nd obsessive noeul, hair pulling, choking, blood, cutting, knife, (not ina freaky way more like in a “bitch where u going” way) etc.

unnecessary bs : short story, like uhh 3.5k words

noeul knew what was best for you. It wasn’t just a belief—it was a certainty, one she clung to with an iron grip. she was convinced that no one else could give you what she could, that no one else understood you like she did. her love, her care, her unwavering devotion—these were all you needed. and she would do whatever it took to ensure you realized that, even if you didn’t see it yet.

she would weave herself into your life, gradually, gently at first, until it was impossible to imagine a day without her presence. her love wasn’t just nurturing—it was a force that suffocated, one that turned your world into a place where only noeul’s vision could thrive. every decision you made, no matter how small, would be filtered through her. it wasn’t manipulation, she would say. It was guidance. you could always rely on her to make the choices that were best for you—because she knew what those were.

when others tried to get too close, she’d subtly pull them away, perhaps with a smile, perhaps with a suggestion that wasn’t quite as innocent as it seemed. “you’re spending too much time with them,” she’d murmur. “don’t you think we’d be happier just the two of us?”

her obsession wasn’t just emotional—it was calculated. she kept track of every detail about you, cataloging your habits, preferences, fears. she understood you better than you understood yourself, and that made her indispensable. noeul had a way of making you feel special, of making you feel like no one else could care for you the way she did. but in doing so, she also made you feel small, dependent on her attention and approval. she made you believe that your happiness was her—without her, you would be lost.

she never let go. she couldn’t. she believed that if she ever lost you, she’d lose everything. and that was something she simply couldn’t allow.

the girl already felt like she’d lost so much. people had come and gone, promises had been broken, and trust had been shattered in ways she couldn’t fix. but you? you were different. you were the one thing she couldn’t bear to lose. the thought of it alone made something twist in her chest, a panic she couldn’t quiet. she had given so much to be here, to be with you, to make you see how perfect things could be if you only allowed her to take the lead. and now, now that she had you, she couldn’t risk losing you too. not after everything. not when you were the only thing left that made sense in her chaotic world. you were her last chance, the one thing that could fix everything. so if it meant controlling, guiding, helping you see that she was the best choice, then so be it. she couldn’t afford to lose you. she wouldn’t.

noeul’s smile was sweet, her voice soft, but there was an edge to it that made you hesitate. “you know i only want what’s best for you,” she’d whisper, brushing your hair out of your face with careful fingers. her touch lingered, possessive in a way you couldn’t quite name. “no one else will take care of you the way i do. no one else loves you like i do.”

and for a while, you almost believed her. almost.

“noeul,” you started, your voice barely above a murmur as you stared down at the coffee mug she had placed in front of you. “don’t you think this is… too much? the constant texts, the calls—it’s suffocating sometimes.”

her expression didn’t falter, though her eyes darkened. “too much?” she repeated, her tone laced with quiet disbelief. “i’m only looking out for you. you need someone to keep you grounded, to make sure you’re okay. you’d fall apart without me, yn. you know that.”

you flinched at her words, guilt pricking at your chest despite yourself. she always had a way of twisting things, of making you question whether you were being ungrateful for her care.

“it’s not that i don’t appreciate it, but—”

“then don’t push me away,” she interrupted, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “you don’t realize how fragile you are. how much you need me. but that’s okay. i’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

there was something suffocating about the way she looked at you, like you were the center of her world and she wouldn’t let you forget it. her love was a weight, heavy and unyielding, and no matter how much you tried to squirm away from it, it always pulled you back.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the mug as you tried to meet her gaze. “noeul, i’m not fragile. i can handle myself, you know. i don’t need you to—”

“to what?” she interrupted, her tone deceptively soft, though her eyes were anything but. “to care about you? to make sure you’re safe? yn, do you hear yourself? you’re lucky to have someone like me. someone who actually gives a damn about you.”

her words stung, sharp and cutting, and for a moment, you felt the urge to apologize, to tell her she was right, even though deep down, a part of you screamed that this wasn’t normal.

you set the mug down carefully, the sound of ceramic against wood breaking the tense silence. “that’s not what i meant,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “but it’s like… you don’t trust me. you don’t give me any space.”

noeul tilted her head, her expression unreadable, though her lips curved into a small, unsettling smile. “space?” she echoed, almost amused. “is that what you think you need? space to what—hurt yourself? make bad decisions? let other people take advantage of you?”

you shook your head quickly, your heart pounding. “that’s not fair, noeul. i just want to feel like i can breathe without you hovering over me.”

her smile faded then, replaced by a look of quiet intensity that made your stomach churn. “breathe?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “yn, you don’t understand. i’m the only reason you’re still standing. without me, you’d fall apart. you don’t know how much i’ve done for you. how much i’ve sacrificed.”

she leaned in closer, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek, her touch almost tender. “you think you need space, but you’re wrong. what you need is me. you’ll see that, eventually. even if i have to show you myself.”

the way she said it, so calm and assured, sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the weight of her gaze pinned you in place, stealing the words from your lips. all you could do was sit there, trapped under the suffocating warmth of her affection, wondering how things had spiraled so far out of your control.

you pushed her hand away, your voice rising as the knot in your chest snapped. “noeul, you don’t get it! i’m not some fragile, helpless thing that needs you to save me all the time. i can make my own choices, live my own life! you don’t get to decide everything for me!”

her expression froze, her smile dropping as her eyes darkened, the warmth in them turning ice-cold. for a moment, she didn’t say anything, just stared at you like she was trying to decide whether you had really just said that.

“you think you can handle yourself?” she said quietly, her voice eerily calm. “that’s funny, yn. really funny. because last time i checked, you couldn’t even figure out what you wanted for lunch without my help.”

“that’s not the same thing!” you shot back, standing now, your hands shaking. “you treat me like i’m some kind of child who can’t do anything on their own! i’m tired of it, noeul. i don’t need you watching my every move!”

her jaw tightened, and for the first time, the calm facade cracked, a flicker of something raw and dangerous crossing her face. “watching your every move?” she repeated, her voice rising. “you call it that, but all i’ve ever done is take care of you. because no one else will, yn. no one else cares enough to do what i do.”

you shook your head, stepping back as her voice grew sharper, more frantic. “maybe i don’t need someone to care that much! maybe i’d be better off—”

“better off without me?” she cut you off, her voice sharp like a whip. she stood now, her presence overwhelming as she loomed closer. “don’t say that, yn. don’t you dare say that.”

you faltered, but the frustration bubbling inside of you refused to be snuffed out. “why not? it’s the truth! i feel like i can’t even breathe around you anymore, noeul. you’re always there, always controlling everything—”

“controlling?” she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and something deeper, more desperate. “you think this is control? do you have any idea what it would be like without me? you’d be lost, yn. completely, utterly lost.”

“no, i wouldn’t!” you yelled back, your heart pounding in your chest. “i’d be fine, noeul! i can live my life without you smothering me every second of the day!”

her eyes flashed, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow colder. her voice dropped, low and venomous. “you think you’d be fine? you think anyone else could handle you the way i do? you’re wrong, yn. you have no idea what’s out there. no one will ever love you the way i do. no one will ever put up with you the way i do.”

the words hit like a slap, and for a moment, you stood there in stunned silence, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. but even as the doubt crept in, you forced yourself to speak. “maybe they wouldn’t,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “but that doesn’t mean this is okay. it doesn’t mean i have to stay.”

her face twisted, her mask of sweetness gone entirely now. she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “you’re not going anywhere, yn. you think you have a choice, but you don’t. you need me, whether you want to admit it or not. and i’ll make sure you realize that, one way or another.”

the air felt thick, suffocating, as her words hung between you. you wanted to run, to scream, to do anything—but her gaze held you captive, her obsession wrapping around you like chains you couldn’t break.

you turned on your heel, heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to the door. “i’m leaving, noeul,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “this isn’t love. i can’t do this anymore.”

you didn’t wait for her response, your hand already reaching for the doorknob. the thought of freedom, of finally escaping the suffocating grip she had on you, spurred you forward—until a sharp, searing pain tore through your scalp.

“you’re not going anywhere.” noeul’s voice was sharp, laced with fury as she yanked you back by your hair, forcing a cry of pain from your lips. your hand shot up instinctively, trying to pry her grip away, but her hold only tightened.

“you think you can just walk away from me?” she spat, dragging you back toward her. her other hand found your neck, her fingers pressing down hard, cutting off your air as panic flared in your chest. “after everything i’ve done for you? after everything we’ve been through?”

“n-noeul—stop,” you choked out, clawing at her hand as you struggled to breathe.

but she wasn’t listening. her face was twisted in a mix of rage and desperation, her voice rising with every word. “you’re mine, yn. do you hear me? mine. i’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me? by trying to leave me? by abandoning me?”

tears streamed down your face as your vision blurred, your body thrashing in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “please… stop,” you gasped, your voice barely audible as the world began to fade around you.

your vision blurred, the edges of your sight fading to gray as noeul’s grip on your neck tightened. panic surged through your body as you clawed at her hands, your nails scraping against her skin, but she didn’t let go. her face was a twisted mask of fury and desperation, her voice rising above your strangled gasps.

“you’re not leaving me, yn,” she growled, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “you don’t get to leave me.”

your strength ebbed away, your limbs growing weak as darkness began to creep in from the corners of your vision. you could barely hear her words anymore, her voice muffled like it was coming from underwater. your hands slipped from her wrists, falling limp at your sides as your body betrayed you.

“you belong to me,” was the last thing you heard, her voice a venomous whisper, before the world faded to black.

the suffocating pressure on your throat was the last sensation you registered before everything disappeared, leaving you trapped in a void of silence and unconsciousness.

“you don’t get to leave me,” she hissed, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “you belong to me, yn. and if i have to hurt you to make you see that, then so be it.”

your head throbbed as you slowly regained consciousness, a dull, pounding ache radiating through your skull. the air was cold, damp, and unfamiliar, carrying a faint, metallic scent that made your stomach churn. your fingers twitched against the rough, uneven surface beneath you, and as your eyes fluttered open, the dim light of a single bulb above you cast eerie shadows across the room.

you were in a basement.

panic surged through your veins as you tried to sit up, only to feel the sharp tug of something binding your wrists behind your back. the rough texture of rope bit into your skin, and you struggled against it, the reality of your situation crashing over you like a wave.

“oh, you’re awake.”

her voice sent a chill down your spine, soft and sweet like honey, but laced with an unsettling edge that made your blood run cold. you turned your head sharply, your eyes landing on noeul as she stepped into the light, her expression calm, almost serene, but her eyes burned with an intensity that made your heart race.

“w-what… what are you doing?” you stammered, your voice hoarse and shaky as you tugged against the ropes.

she crouched down in front of you, tilting her head as she regarded you with an almost pitying smile. “you left me no choice, yn,” she said softly, her voice dripping with feigned regret. “i couldn’t let you walk away. you don’t understand how much you need me. how much i need you.”

you flinched as she reached out, her fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “but it’s okay,” she continued, her voice low and soothing, as if she were comforting a frightened child. “you’ll see soon enough. you’ll understand why this is for the best.”

“noeul, this isn’t right,” you said, your voice trembling as tears pricked at your eyes. “please, just let me go. we can talk about this—”

“no,” she interrupted sharply, her calm facade cracking for just a moment as her eyes narrowed. “you don’t get it, do you? you don’t need anyone else. you don’t need freedom. you don’t need choices. you need me.”

her voice softened again, and she leaned closer, her lips curling into a small, unsettling smile. “and now, you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. i’ll take care of you. i’ll make sure you’re safe. even if it means keeping you here forever.”

your heart raced as her words sank in, and you struggled harder against the ropes, desperation clawing at your chest. but noeul simply watched, her smile never wavering, as if she were savoring the sight of you realizing just how trapped you were.

noeul crouched in front of you, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey. the flickering light above cast shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp edge of her smile and the unsettling glint in her eyes. in her hand, you noticed something new—a knife, small and sleek, its edge catching the dim light as she twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers.

“you know,” she started softly, her voice almost a whisper as she tilted her head, studying you. “i love you, yn. more than anyone else ever could. more than you’ll ever understand.”

you froze, your breath catching in your throat as the blade glinted in her hand. every muscle in your body screamed at you to move, to run, but the ropes binding you held firm, leaving you helpless beneath her piercing gaze.

“so why,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly, as though she were on the verge of tears, “do you keep playing with me? why do you keep trying to run away? don’t you see how much this hurts me?”

she leaned in closer, the knife lowering to your thigh. your breath hitched as the cold metal pressed against your skin, just barely grazing it. her touch was delicate, almost careful, as if she didn’t want to harm you—yet.

“you make me do these things, yn,” she murmured, her tone laced with both frustration and heartbreak. the knife trailed lightly down your leg, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. “i don’t want to hurt you. i really don’t. but you leave me no choice when you act like this. when you try to leave me.”

tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “noeul, please… you don’t have to do this. i—i’ll listen. just don’t—”

“don’t what?” she interrupted, her voice sharp as her eyes flicked up to meet yours. “don’t remind you who you belong to? don’t show you how much you mean to me?”

her grip on the knife tightened as she pressed it just a little harder against your skin, not enough to cut, but enough to make your heart race with fear. her other hand reached up to cup your cheek, her touch strangely tender as she leaned in, her face mere inches from yours.

“you’re mine, yn,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’ll always be mine.”

the cold steel bit into your flesh, and a sharp, unbearable pain shot through your leg. you flinched, your eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. “noeul! please, stop!” you cried, your voice cracking.

noeul’s eyes flickered with something dark, something possessive, as she continued. she carved her name—slowly, deliberately—into your thigh, her movements so precise, as though she was marking her territory, sealing you into her world. each stroke of the knife sent jolts of pain through your body, and you could feel the warmth of blood beginning to seep down your leg.

when she was done, noeul leaned in closer, her lips parting just slightly as she brought her tongue to the fresh cut. the contact was unexpected, soft, and disturbingly intimate as she licked the blood from your skin, her eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ll always be a part of me, yn,” she murmured, the coldness in her voice laced with twisted affection. “and i’ll always be a part of you.”

you shuddered, the feeling of her touch lingering long after she’d pulled away. the tears continued to fall, but there was no escape from her. no way to deny her hold on you.

noeul stood up slowly, her gaze never leaving yours. for a moment, she just looked at you, as if trying to savor the sight of you in this broken, vulnerable state. her expression softened, the hardness in her eyes fading into something almost tender, though it held an eerie edge.

then, without a word, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead—light and fleeting, like a fragile promise that left you more unsettled than ever.

“i’ll be back soon,” she whispered, her voice softer now, as though trying to reassure herself.

with one last lingering glance, noeul turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence. each step she took seemed to pull her further away from you, but you knew deep down she wasn’t truly leaving. she was just giving you a moment to breathe… before she came back to tighten her grip once more.

the door clicked shut behind her, but the weight of her presence remained, hanging heavy in the room like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

BOOM SHAKALAKAAA I NEED HER and let’s pretend yns cut isn’t gonna get infected..🌚 i’ll probably end up doing a part 2 w smut idk yet tho lmk if u want it🙏 and hit my ask box if u got any reqs 🥸

#starvrse #kang noeul #kang no eul #kang noeul x reader #squid game x reader #squid game #guard 011 #squid game fanfic #wlw fanfic #squid game smut #gong yoo x reader #kdrama

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xuzuitengenx · 3 days ago

Text

Neuvillette x Pyro Dragon!Male Reader Oneshot

Part 1 HERE

Title: As We Meet Once Again

Genre: Angst (Potentially Fluff?)

CW and Info: NOT PROOF-READ AS ALWAYS, OOC moments, Lovers turn strangers, not following plot

QUICK A/N: ITS BEEN AWHILE SINCE I WROTE SO IM SORRY IF ITS HORRIBLE

Neuvillette thought that the Lantern Rite in Liyue was beautiful. He saw the festive decorations, families being together, and different Liyue traditions all while he was shopping (and getting scammed).

Walking with 10 boxes of tea through the city of Liyue, he took observations of Liyue. While admiring, he thought of M/N. Some decorations or gifts reminded Neuvillette of M/N or knew that M/N would've loved it.

Neuvillette knows that he should move on from M/N ever since their last encounter. Letting out a sigh, Neuvillette shouldn't be thinking about him right now as he should be enjoying this day.

He will enjoy this day.

Neuvillette knew that he had gotten lost. He was supposed to meet with Furina and the others to go back to Fontaine but he doesn't see them and the area he is in doesn't make sense as there was no transportation even remotely near.

Neuvillette began to walk around to spot any of them or even Hu Tao since Furina and her were chatting a bit.

While his mind was occupied by trying to find anyone, he accidentally bumped into someone which cause the two to tumble a bit.

"Ah—my apologies." Neuvillette quickly said as he almost dropped the boxes of tea, not taking a peek at the person.

"It's alright, Monsieur Neuvillette."

Neuvillette perked up at the person's voice. It almost sounds like...no.

Neuvillette swiftly looks at the person and there was M/N, standing in front of him with that stupid cute smile of his.

"It was really my fault. Should've watched where I was going." M/N scratches the back of his neck with a soft laugh.

Nevulliette was beyond shocked. He never thought that he would see M/N again after that day. Words were caught in his throat as he had lots of things to say, his chest felt heavier yet happy to see M/N again.

M/N took note of Neuvillette's reaction.

"Uhm..Do you need help with carrying those boxes?" M/N asks, trying to ease the tension a bit.

Neuvillette reluctantly looks away from M/N and at the boxes he was holding. This was a bad idea, right? He shouldn't indulge himself with M/N again after everything.. but maybe what if this was his last chance to talk to M/N again, he should take that chance.

Nodding hesitantly, Neuvillette agreed on M/N's help. M/N quickly acted as he grabbed 7 boxes for Neuvillette to carry less.

"Where are you heading to?" M/N asked, looking at the white hair man.

Neuvillette was stuck on his words as he doesn't know where he's heading. All he knew was he needed to go back on the boats.

"Uhm—the boats..." He spoke to M/N while not looking at M/N, his nerves getting the better of him as he cleared his throat. M/N took notice of this and realized that Neuvillette was lost.

"I'll lead the way, Monsieur Neuvillette. Just follow me, alright?" M/N said, taking his eyes off Neuvillette as he began walking.

Neuvillette started following him, watching M/N work his way through the crowd. Neuvillette wanted to talk to M/N, to ask him why he left Neuvillette, and why is he talking to him now? His heart felt heavy as his mind was just filled with unanswered questions.

Speeding up to walk beside M/N, Neuvillette tried to talk but he couldn't. Nothing was coming out as he sneaked glances at the (H/C) hair man.

"M/N– Monsieur M/N.." Neuvillette started, getting the male's attention. "Hmm?" M/N hummed, hearing Neuvillette called his name.

Neuvillette couldn't find his words, thinking about what to ask first. Gripping on the tea boxes as he just blurted out a question.

"..Why? Why did you leave me on that day..?" Neuvillette stopped walking, making the other stop too. M/N looked at Neuvillette, his face softening at the question as Neuvillette's face was determined to find the answer.

Neuvillette replayed that day in his head, his heart pounding as he waited for a answer.

M/N sighed, thinking about that day.

"It's a lot to unpack and you are on a rush so I can tell you another time–"

"I want the answer now." Neuvillette cuts him off, not caring if he is late or if he gets left behind.

M/N was slightly taken aback but quickly composed himself. He looks around and happens to see a unused table near them. Looking at Neuvillette, he gestures with a tilt of his head to move there. Neuvillette follows M/N as they walked to the table.

Setting down the boxes of tea on the table, M/N looked at Neuvillette as Neuvillette quickly set down the other boxes.

Neuvillette looks at M/N, his arms crossing to show that he was not joking around. M/N slightly smiled at Neuvillette's action. He loved when Neuvillette did this as he thought it was adorable.

"Why I left, hmm?" M/N started, thinking back as he looked away. Neuvillette bit the inside of his cheek, wanting–no needing an answer.

"Natlan was.. in a middle of a war and I needed to fight in it." M/N started, looking back at Neuvillette.

M/N sighed. "There was no guarantee that I would live to see the end of it...and knowing that information, I immediately thought of you.."

Neuvillette slowly uncrossed his arms as his determined look started to break.

"I couldn't bare the thought of you absolutely destroyed if you knew that I died in the war. So, I thought of something which was to leave you.. I thought leaving you without no explanation would make you hate me and forget about me if I did died." M/N looked away, unable to look at Neuvillette as he spoke.

"I hated hurting you..So much.. I hate seeing you cry and even making you cry. I wanted to hold you and tell you about the war but I couldn't. I wanted you to move on if I died." M/N felt guilty, still not looking at Neuvillette as he finished.

Neuvillette listened till the end, his face held a heartbroken look and his heart aching. Neuvillette hesitantly walked close to M/N, his gloved hands going to M/N's face. His hands touching M/N's cheeks and gently guiding his face to look at him.

Once his purple eyes met the (E/C) colored eyes, his heart fluttered. It's been too long since he looked at M/N's eyes that he loves so much.

"You should've told me..I would have been fine..–"

"You wouldn't.. I know you too well, Neuvillette.." M/N's hands went on top of Neuvillette's gloved ones on his face.

Neuvillette took a breath when M/N's hands went on his. Taking in his touch he so dearly missed.

"..You still could've told me..when you left me, I didn't hate you.. My heart was completely broken, yes. But, I just couldn't bring myself to hate you.." Neuvillette spoke softly, not breaking eye contact.

M/N listened to Neuvillette, still feeling so guilty.

"..M/N, somehow..I still love you after all these centuries.." As Neuvillette said this, M/N felt his heart fluttered as his eyes widen. Neuvillette saw his eyes widening and felt regret. "I'm not sure if you still feel the same–"

"–I love you too." M/N cut him off, catching Neuvillette off guard. Neuvillette's heart started beating quickly as he processed what M/N said.

Neuvillette couldn't help but to smile. "Good.. that's good.."

M/N smiled back, taking in Neuvillette's beautiful features.

There was a much needed moment of silence as the two dragons just enjoy being back within each other's company.

"HEY, I FOUND HIM!" Furina's voice broke the silence as she yelled at the others of her discovery.

Taking their eyes off each other, they looked at Furina. Nevulliette's heart clutched as he needed to go and leave M/N. Looking back at M/N as his hands didn't leave M/N's cheeks, he didn't want to leave.

M/N looked at Neuvillette, his face clearly sadden. "It seems like you have to go." M/N spoke.

Neuvillette nods, reluctantly taking his gloved hands off of M/N which made M/N take his hands away too.

Neuvillette grabs all 10 of the boxes, starting to walk away from M/N before he stopped. Looking back at M/N, his eyes fixated on the man and he suddenly asked a question—or more of a statement.

"Come back with me." Neuvillette said, turning his full body to M/N.

"What?" M/N asked.

Neuvillette took a quick breath, repeating himself. "Come back to Fontaine with me.."

M/N scratched the back of his neck, thinking about what he just said.

"Please.." Neuvillette held a pleading look, hoping M/N would come with him. M/N looked at Neuvillette's face, his heart skipping a beat.

Finally, M/N nodded. "I'll go with you." M/N walked to Neuvillette. Neuvillette sighed in relief, smiling as M/N walked to him.

"Thank you." Neuvillette softly spoke.

M/N smiled. "Of course.."

THE END

#male reader #x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #seme male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette x m!reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette angst #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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sorryimananti-romantic · 2 days ago

Text

The Leaders | Chapter I

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: mentions of violence, gangs, drinking, shooting, near-death experience, illegal businesses, seonghwa and yunho are major assholes in this chap, san and yeosang have warmed up, mention of killing, etc

chapter wc: 9.8k

chapter synopsis: it is the year 1970 in eden when an attack on the crescent bar prompts you, the bookkeeper, to carry out yeosang’s order and flee with the contents of the safe. however, you are unlucky to have discovered an unknown, suspicious package that sentences you to an early death. left with no choice, you reveal secrets about the underworld to the crescents and their underboss that even they are not aware of. will this gamble prove to be fruitful?

It was very easy to get lost in the liveliness of the Crescent Bar. Despite being stationed away from the heart of it all, you often found yourself distracted by the chatter of a couple who would occasionally pop in for a drink, the hushed whispers of a group of men who would be looking over their shoulders every few minutes, the hearty laughter that would suddenly fill the hall and spread warmth in its wake, or simply, a lone traveller who would be swaying to the light music that you were actually sick of hearing but didn’t have the heart to complain about.

It was now second nature to jot in an observation or record transactions on an hourly basis, just like it was natural for you to take over the cashier’s place so the poor girl could take a break and move around. You no longer felt your hair rise every time you overheard a piece of information that you knew Yeosang or San would like to hear, nor did you feel your pores opening to release sweat every time they glanced your way– just like San did now, just having entered the bar and sent his trademark flirty smile in your direction.

“Restock champagne on table two, right away!”

“On the way!” You shouted instead of the new girl who was currently finding it hard to multitask. You didn’t have to worry about a thing– Yuju, the head of staff, noticed everything as if she had eyes in every corner of the bar. She would make sure to let the girl know that she was doing well with an encouraging pat to her back.

“They’re going to empty our inventory tonight,” Eunbi shared a grin with you. “We’re going to have to check the stock again.”

“I’ll take that– ask Jeonghan to wake the hell up and make sure we don’t run out,” you requested, sliding over to the cash register and typing in the latest entry, marking it with today’s date of 3rd April, 1970. Eunbi urged the waiters to speed up before rushing to the empty table at the left corner of the bar where Jeonghan was resting. She delivered the message with a smack and Jeonghan, who was never really asleep but just had a knack for pretending that he found the loud and bustling atmosphere of the bar relaxing, groggily walked across the hall to the door that led downstairs to check stock- or to get an actual nap. You would find that out later.

“Luna,” San greeted you with your nickname and you nodded in greeting– the nickname stuck with you after Jeonghan once called you Luna. Everyone started calling you by that name afterwards but only a handful knew it was short for lunatic and you intended to keep it that way.

You had no desire to use your real name anyway.

“Busy night?” San slid on the stool not far from you, Eunbi passing him a sweet smile before she started to pour Black Shadow for him- a staple of the Crescent Bar as the only supplier of the famous and well-loved Utopian wine in all of Eden. San swirled the red wine in his glass casually before downing it in one gulp and Eunbi refilled it before passing the bottle to you, going to attend to more pressing matters than one of the owners casually lounging to chat.

“Kind of,,” you turned to grab yourself a glass and San poured the wine for you. The clinking of your glasses echoed even in your loud surroundings and you took a sip, taking in his appearance- you assumed he must be returning from business since he was wearing a formal black suit, though he ditched his coat at the entrance. The white sleeves were rolled up, revealing his sturdy forearms with a thick silver watch on his left wrist and a silver band on his index finger- one you had never seen him without.

Your eyes travelled up to his face- tendrils of slick hair falling on his forehead. Choi San was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, and hardly anyone could deny that.

The problem was that perhaps, he really did not realise how painfully attractive he was. The man was far too humble for his own good, despite being one of the most dangerous and powerful men in Eden.

“Heard something interesting of late?” He inquired routinely. It was always a bit more casual with him as compared to Yeosang. Yeosang was the boss around here, yes, but San was the one who kept things under control. The pair of them worked together very harmoniously and you admired that, even though you had qualms about whatever they were doing- whatever you thought they were doing. Almost two years here and you still had no idea just what it was that their gang did.

Gang, you called them though they preferred ‘organisation’. The cops preferred ‘criminal organisation’ but you supposed it was just semantics at this point. Their name was Ateez- you never heard that term directly from any of their mouths, but even a child recognised that name and knew to avoid them- or avoid trouble with them.

But officially, they were the Crescent Company, owner of the Crescent Bar and other businesses in Eden.

“Just politics,” you finished the rest of your drink, adjusting the lone pearl ring on your right hand. “Everyone’s a little antsy with what happened at the protest. They think it’s Assemblyman General Wi’s gang.”

“General Wi would never interfere like that, though,” San scoffed in amusement- perhaps he genuinely found the idea of a man like Major General Wi resorting to dirty means hilarious. “He’s far too smart for that.”

“He is,” you had to agree. “But who else to blame? Only someone from the military would dislike people protesting against martial law. There’s only one candidate for presidency who’s got influence in the army. They think General Wi’s success in the elections would mean the army would control the state.”

“Isn’t the army somewhat controlling the state already, though?” San pondered. “President Lee has ties with the army too.”

You may have gotten used to interacting with the most feared gang in Eden, but the mention of President Lee still made you shiver involuntarily. San had noticed it one too many times and though he hadn’t asked for an explanation, you were sure you would lack the words to describe this sentiment anyway. “President Lee… cannot be controlled by the army, or anyone for that matter. General Wi may be smart but he’s still easily influenced when met with someone of a higher status- that’s what I heard,” you added the last bit hoping it wouldn’t sound like a personal opinion.

San raised a brow at your comment- you often tried (and failed) to mask your personal opinions under the guise of news but whenever you shared something, he made sure to listen- and listen beneath what your words tried to cover up. He often found your opinions and predictions regarding politics holding some weight and he wasn’t quite sure if you were subconsciously very observant or purposely pretending to be unaware. He once asked you how you knew so much but when you didn’t discuss any information with him for a few weeks, he took the hint. You only reported officially to Yeosang and he could bet you found it easier to talk to him about these things because he wasn’t one to probe.

“Keep me updated,” San said and you nodded. “Yeosang must be inside?”

“He’s actually in Room no. 1- he has visitors.”

“Visitors?” San frowned. “Who?”

“Lieutenant Jeong and co.,” you said and San shook his head at the way you so formally addressed the man. He had told you before that no one ever referred to him as the ‘lieutenant’ but you didn’t know how else to refer to him. “I was in the office earlier so they decided to take the room.”

“That’s okay, I’ll pop in there,” he grabbed a handful of nuts from the counter before walking to the backside of the bar, disappearing in the shadows as he reached the VIP area. You took a deep breath, your mind once again wandering to the ‘guest’.

Lieutenant Jeong Yunho was not a guest here at all. He belonged here. If you thought Choi San was intimidating, you were wrong. You still recalled the first time you saw him right outside the bar, all roughed up, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve but not a single scratch on him while a group of men around him writhed on the floor, clutching their mangled limbs. He met your eyes and your heart sank in the worst way possible- worse than the moment you were disowned by your own father. It was simply fear, and you hated feeling fear. You made up your mind to avoid him from then on but there was only so much you could do when you worked at the place he owned.

Oftentimes he came into the bar in the late hours of the night after wrapping up things in the main office and sat right where San had been sitting earlier in front of you, drinking the strongest wine available in silence- perhaps to sort his thoughts out. He didn’t mind you sitting near him and doing your paperwork, and you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable unlike the others who could not stop stealing glances at him- it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but you simply could not. You didn’t want him to find out what kind of an effect he had on you.

Especially when he had the warmest laughter and his entire demeanour shifted around his comrades. It intrigued you because he felt like two different persons in one vessel. That was the only time you would allow yourself to steal glances at him- when he was distracted enough. Otherwise you didn’t dare look at him in fear that he might find something about you that you had been struggling to hide all your life.

Eunbi came back after serving a group of guests, whispering, “This one table- they were awfully quiet when I went to serve them. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve got some gossip they don’t want anyone to hear or if they’re going to try something stupid.”

You looked at her- Eunbi’s instincts were usually spot-on. “Which table?”

“Over there,” she glanced at the corner and sure enough, the group of four was already looking in your direction. You pretended to be unaffected, asking her to take over the register. While casually strolling towards the door that led to the basement at the other end of the hall, you passed their table, noticing how they resumed talking only after you were out of earshot.

Something was up. You went downstairs to see Jeonghan napping on the couch.

“Oi,” you poked his thigh and he stirred, opening an eye. You knew he wasn’t really asleep- he wasn’t one to let his guard down, but you supposed he could have his moments of peace. “Stock?”

“Enough for tonight but I’ll place an order for tomorrow before we leave,” he said. “What’s up?”

“There’s a group at table seven. Four young men, armed with guns, awfully quiet and jumpy. Care to take a look?”

“They could have just lost a bet. They might be collecting the remnants of their pride- you tend to do that in silence,” Jeonghan mused.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather you make sure,” you said. “Lieutenant Jeong is here. They’d be stupid to try anything- anything at all, even if it’s just throwing a tantrum.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan got up and smoothened his long dark hair. “I suppose I’ll ask them if they require a better drink to down their shame.”

“Whatever,” you sniggered before going back to your position upstairs. You watched Jeonghan don his jacket as he entered the floor and he looked around, meeting eyes with the group and you both noticed two things-

That their hands went to their hip where the weapons rested, and that they exchanged quick glances with each other. Jeonghan looked at you and you shook your head, urging him to skip the plan and alert the others- it might be an attempt at robbery or worse, but they were so stupid to do that, especially tonight.

“You’ve restocked their drinks?” You asked Eunbi.

“They just ordered another, Soojin is going to refill their drinks-”

“The new girl?” You shook your head, “She’s been jumpy all night. Stop her, right now. They’re armed, they might do something stupid-”

Before you could finish the sentence or Eunbi could carry out your order, the loud shatter of glass made you both flinch and hold on to each other as you ducked, splinters raining down on you and making you both hiss in pain when some of them met your skin. You tucked Eunbi closer before you raised your head over the counter to assess the situation-

Chaos was the word. Eunbi had been right to be suspicious- the men were now pointing guns at whoever dared to move and another gunshot sounded followed by a guttural yell of the waiter whose arm took the blow. You met eyes with Soojin who stood frozen in the middle of the room and you motioned for her to stay that way.

“No one move!” One of the men shouted, wide eyes relaying the threat. “I’ll shoot you if you move!”

“I’m going to take the register and go to the office,” you whispered to Eunbi who shook her head furiously.

“It’s too dangerous- they’ll shoot you,” Eunbi held your arms in panic but you pried her hands away, squeezing them assuringly.

“I’ll be fine- they won’t spot me. I have to hurry,” you told her and before she could insist, you started crawling away from her, keeping close to the wall and moving towards the backside of the bar, avoiding the shards of glass as best as you could. You had orders to follow- orders Yeosang trusted you would follow at a time like this. You could not disappoint him now after everything he had done for you.

The office was the nearest room from where you sat crouched and if you made a dash for it, you could probably go unnoticed- if the instigators didn’t catch movement from the corner of their eyes. They were too busy forcing the customers to line up against the walls so you could take this chance-

Without thinking any further, you gathered the material of your skirt and thanked the lord that you wore boots instead of your usual heels today as you took a few large steps to disappear into the shadows, now successfully out of their vision. You silently unlocked the door and entered the empty office, taking a deep breath once inside, the adrenaline rush making your head spin. After stealing just a few seconds to calm down, you opened the drawers to make sure nothing of importance was there and then you bent down to access the locker under the desk-

The locker of which you had the key to all this time, but never once checked the contents of. You remembered when Yeosang promoted you from cashier to bookkeeper and told you that not all their transactions were legal- you just had to keep a record and stay shut about it. That, you could do. You kept the key on you at all times, and you took it out from the inside of your skirt’s waistband, unlocking the safe and gathering the two registers and a small packet wrapped way too much to figure out what it held inside. You held the things close to your chest as you made your way out, peeking first to see if the commotion had moved away from your eyeshot.

You took a turn to the narrow space at your right that led to the back exit, but that was not your destination- the room at the end of that corridor had a passageway that led to another exit in the alley. You slowed down at the sound of footsteps and you wondered if they were coming from right behind you-

Before you knew it, you were being pulled inside the room with a twirl that ended up with your back slamming against the wall, a gasp producing from your lips and freezing midway when you realised just who had pinned you against the wall-

Lieutenant Jeong. And he did not look pleased.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Carrying out orders,” you breathed, realising just how tall and broad he was now that he was in front of you, bending to reach your height. You clutched the registers tighter reflexively, your left wrist still in his strong grip. “I’ve been instructed to flee with the contents of the safe in case of an attack.”

“By who?”

“Kang Yeosang,” you said, though you figured he already knew the answer. “I have the key.”

The man scanned you slowly as if that would give him all the answers to the questions he wasn’t asking. He knew you were the bookkeeper, but did he not know that Yeosang trusted you enough with this?

The sound of a few rushed footsteps caused him to let go of your wrists and you rubbed the skin there. It was Yuju accompanied by the manager, Mingyu, and they told Yunho that there were more men outside now.

“Did you figure out who’s behind the attack?” Yunho asked.

“Probably Chan’s gang,” Mingyu huffed, looking at you and relaxing when he saw that you were safe. “I’m going back to get the rest of the employees.”

“I’ll stay here and make sure they get out safely,” Yuju nodded, noticing the items you were clutching. “Luna- go. We’ll call you when things settle down.”

You looked at Yunho- though you didn’t need his permission, you knew that he could very well ruin things for you. He didn’t trust you- he had no reason to. He told you to wait and disappeared out of the room and Yuju widened her eyes in confusion.

“I mean… I can understand,” you shrugged. “Is everyone okay back there?”

“I don’t think they knew that Yunho and his lackeys were here,” Yuju folded her arms, hugging herself. “They’re going to regret it. Whoever it is… they’ll make him regret ever coming up with this plan.”

“Even if it was just San and Yeosang, they couldn’t have won,” you said and Yuju agreed. “They both go a little crazy too.”

“But Yunho-” she shivered. “He’s something else.”

Your lips twitched in amusement despite the gravity of the situation and moments later, Johnny- Yunho’s assistant- appeared, looking battered.

“I thought it was a gunfight- why does it look like you were in a catfight?” Yuju commented, slumping down on one of the chairs and Johnny shot her an annoyed look.

“One, I didn’t have a gun on me. Two- they touched my hair!” Johnny huffed and you looked at the man in disbelief, all the impression you had of him going down the drain. Yuju was familiar with Johnny so she didn’t seem very surprised at his childish outburst. “Anyone who messes with my face will get worse in return.”

“Understandable,” you muttered. “Can I go now?”

“Oh, you’re staying here,” Johnny urged you to take a seat. “You’re not going anywhere- Yunho’s orders.”

“Wow, okay,” you sank down on the chair. “And you don’t have a gun? If someone comes here and tries to take these away from me?”

“They’ll have to get past me, you don’t need to worry,” he grinned. “You can relax.”

You could, but you were far too nervous to. You didn’t realise how badly you were rocking your legs until Eunbi entered and you groaned in relief to see she was unscathed. “They almost shot me. I can never get used to this.”

“You will get used to it, one day,” you told her, holding her hands and Eunbi squeezed it with an anxious smile, wondering if that was why you seemed mostly unaffected.

The rest of the employees came one by one in a matter of a few minutes, recovering from the initial shock though it quickly wore off since all of you had experienced something like this at least once- and working in a bar owned by a gang, it was bound to happen anyway. Everyone knew better than to call them a ‘gang’ to their face, though- they had spent years to make their business and organisation legal.

Somewhat legal, you would argue as their bookkeeper who knew that wine wasn’t the only thing being consumed here. Your hand that was clutching the packet in its grip itched in answer and you looked at it in suspicion.

The few new employees like Soojin were definitely in shock and Yuju did her best to calm them down. Johnny was kind enough to crack jokes to lighten the mood and you were glad to see it was working. Some people really were here to make a living and you were sure you were going to lose a few employees after this incident.

The door opened and Yeosang entered, looking unharmed, almost unfazed. He talked with Yuju first in hushed voices- probably something about the damage they would have to deal with. When he spotted you, he smiled and called you over. You got up and followed him outside to the corridor.

“Glad to see someone followed their orders,” he commented.

“I would have gone to that building you’ve told me about but…”

“Yunho stopped you, I know.” He was going in the direction of Room no.1 where he had previously been in with Yunho but when you entered, you found not only San but Park Seonghwa as well, looking as posh as ever.

The underboss of Crescent Company, he was the one person in all of the gang that you truly had respect for- it didn’t matter that Park Seonghwa was a criminal. You had once seen him help a lost child find his mother, and another time seen him carry a cat with a broken leg in his arms, and that had changed everything. Not only you but the whole town was aware that Park Seonghwa was a man that possessed a functioning heart unlike most of the gangsters here.

However, you were soon going to find how wrong you had been.

“Miss Jeon, please, make yourself comfortable,” Seonghwa’s calm voice sounded and you looked at Yeosang instinctively- what was happening? He only smiled though it didn’t quite meet his eyes, pouring you a drink which you downed- you needed it now more than ever.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Seonghwa said. “You have the contents of the locker?”

“Right here,” you placed them on the desk and Yunho shifted in discomfort.

“Thank you for keeping them safe,” the underboss took a deep breath. “I understand that you’ve been working here as the bookkeeper for a considerable amount of time now?”

“About a year, yes,” you straightened, suddenly aware of the tension in the room- even San appeared to be squirming, playing with the ends of his sleeves- you’d never seen him fidget like this. “What is this about, if I may ask?”

“And you… do you have some family? Someone you’ve been caring for?”

“Not in Eden, no,” you confirmed.

“Do you have any idea of what these items are?”

“That’s my registers,” you nudged the thick books. “I’ve recorded every transaction here, legal or not. And this…” you held the package in your hand. “I’m afraid I do not know, but if I have to assume… probably the drugs we slip to our VIPs here.”

Seonghwa met eyes with Yeosang who sighed. “I told you. She does not know, but she can be trusted.”

“We have a policy, Yeosang. I know we trust our employees, but the trust can only go so far.”

“If you could tell me what this is about,” you gritted your teeth, knowing fully well where this was going. “Maybe you should just talk to me, Mr. Park.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” he turned his attention to you, fixing his coat. “We cannot let you go since you’ve seen that,” he pointed at the package and you realised that it was not the drug that you were aware of.

But if not that, then what was it? You shook it slightly and felt the rustling of something powdery. It had to be a drug.

“And?” You countered. “I was assigned by one of you to take this and flee in case of an attack. I’ve simply followed orders.”

Seonghwa’s brow rose subconsciously and he shared a look with Yunho who looked amused- amused? You knew that people didn’t usually talk back to those in power, but you had once been there. They didn’t know that you once had power- some semblance of it, at least.

“I’ll be forward with you- we are not allowed to share that with anyone outside our circle, and anyone who does see that is subject to execution.”

You looked at Yeosang in disbelief- he knew that, yet he had still assigned you to carry out this job for him. He could have asked anyone, but he chose you, even when he knew Kihyun had recommended you. Kihyun, the leader of the longest standing gang here and Ateez’s partner. He knew how desperate you were for some stability in your life, yet he chose you.

“I chose you because I trusted you,” Yeosang offered, not meeting your eyes lest he saw how betrayed you felt. It didn’t matter anymore, though.

“You can’t kill me,” you told Yeosang. “You know who recommended me.”

“I’m sure they will understand,” Seonghwa answered in his stead.

“No, actually,” you tossed the packet on the table and folded your arms, liquid courage making its way up unfiltered as you met Yunho’s eyes- the one thing that you hid from him- from all of them. “I’m sure I’ll be much more useful alive.”

Yunho scoffed loudly, not quite believing the shift in your demeanour and the calculation in your voice, but Seonghwa leaned forward as if to question the sheer audacity that you displayed, and if you knew any better, you would have backed down and accepted your predetermined faith, but-

You still had unfinished business. You still had to take down the men of Eden who possessed power yet wielded it against their homeland. You still had to get back at your father for disowning you. You were far from your goal and you simply couldn’t stop here.

“Miss Jeon… how on earth could you be more useful alive to us?”

You mirrored Seonghwa’s posture, leaning forward as well and though the wide table separated the two of you, you could very well have been inches away considering how fixated your gazes were. “I know things about the people in power that even your angels do not know of, Mr. Park. I know how their minds work, I know their dirty little secrets. I know what to avoid when dealing with them. I could help you shake Eden’s current establishment- you should not kill me.”

A silence spread in the room as they processed your words and assessed your statement- was this a leap of faith or an act of stupidity? Whatever it was, it seemed to be enough. Seonghwa looked at Yunho again who seemed just as surprised as the rest.

“We could strike a deal,” you offered, relaxing back. While you knew that they could kill you right away and move on with their night, you decided that if you were really going to get killed, you could try something.

It wasn’t a bluff, no. You meant each word you said, but it was a gamble on your life.

“Luna,” Yeosang’s low voice prompted you to turn to him and adhere to his warning but you were still cross with him.

“What deal would that be?” Yunho finally spoke- you supposed that as consigliere to his boss, he handled these matters. “What information do you possess that is worth more than your life?”

“If I give it away right now, you won’t have any reason to keep me alive, would you?” You countered and San huffed in appreciation, making Yunho shoot daggers at him.

“What? She’s smart,” he pouted and you smiled inwardly, glad that he was still the same old San.

“You will have to give us something, darling,” Seonghwa straightened his gun on the table and though the action was casual, it felt like a mockery of how your life was literally in his- in their hands.

You leaned back to think- you had to play your cards right here, and very carefully. One wrong move and you’d be gone. What was it that you could reveal right now that would make them consider that you were a force to be reckoned with, and would also make them join hands with you? Could you make this mafia gang bend to your will, or were you asking for too much?

You looked around the room, meeting eyes with each one of them, calculating every possible move from here. Most of the information you had was something you couldn’t simply claim to know without blowing your real identity. If they started looking into your background properly this time, they would find out that your surname was borrowed and there was no record of you being here in Eden before 1966- that was four years ago. You came back from Wonderland in ‘66, having spent a few years there looking after your sick aunt and recovering from the shame and anger of being disowned by your father. You couldn’t tell them who your father was- it was far too early for that.

And since you couldn’t have them finding who your father was, you couldn’t let them know anything related to the pharmaceutical business your father owned, or his connections with the politicians- could you give them some information about a politician? President Lee, perhaps? But you weren’t sure how dangerous he was, maybe someone else-

Your eyes fell on an antique porcelain vase in the corner that looked awfully familiar. Your frown deepened as you tried to recall where you had seen it, and when it clicked, you realised you had your answer.

“You got that vase from Assemblyman Major General Wi, is that right?”

The four of them turned to look at the object you were pointing at. Yeosang confirmed that you were right. You couldn’t help but have your lips curl in a smirk. “You might want to return it. You don’t want to have an object that was used for money-laundering… unless you’re involved.”

Yeosang blinked in confusion, looking at the older two who seemed to be concealing any hints of emotions. San, however, looked just as confused as Yeosang. “How do you know that?”

“That’s not the point,” you told him. “The point is that General Wi’s artefact gallery is just a cover for his money-laundering business. Not a good look for a presidential candidate, is it?”

Seonghwa nodded, perhaps connecting some dots in his head and coming to the conclusion that you may be right. “I’m impressed, Miss Jeon. I will verify this information but I have a feeling that you’re speaking the truth.”

You nodded and Yeosang finally laughed in disbelief. “Who are you really, Luna?”

“Your bookkeeper who’s asking that you take consideration of my loyalty and make a deal,” you said and when Yeosang nodded, you continued. “I… I, too, have unfinished business. You know I was desperate to have stability when I first got a job here- it wasn’t always like this. I will give you all the information that you need as long as you protect me as your source. As long as you keep me safe, because you and I,” you turned to Seonghwa. “We have the same goals.”

“And what might that be?”

“Power and protection,” you said, sure that you were right about the first part but when Seonghwa’s brows twitched, you realised that the shot in the dark with ‘protection’ wasn’t fruitless. “We’ve all got something or someone to protect. I’m protecting myself. You’re protecting your people.”

“You’re very talkative… Luna,” Yunho commented and your heart fluttered at the way he called your name- only the nickname, yet you were wavering. You mentally scolded yourself. “This could be the only information you possess. Not enough.”

“Oh, please,” you countered. “You know I have more- I can’t be running on sheer confidence here. But don’t think for one second that you can torture that information out of me,” you said and when Yunho smiled guiltily, you somehow found yourself smiling back despite the fact that your life was on the line. “Protect me and I’ll make sure your boss overthrows the current establishment and becomes the most powerful man in Eden.”

“Protect you from who?” Yunho asked and you gulped involuntarily, recalling the darkness and emptiness in the eyes of the person the whole nation admired.

“I can’t say yet, just… keep me in the shadows, for now. Please.”

Yunho looked at Seonghwa- you couldn’t be making this up. Yeosang asked you to go home and that they would give you an answer soon. When you left the room, Yeosang sat down next to San.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

“She’s not lying, yes,” San confirmed and Yeosang nodded. “She’s only ever worked, right? We’ve been seeing her for a year now. Work and home is all she does, isn’t that so?”

“Yes. I kept an eye on her for a few months before I assigned her with bookkeeping duties- she has no family here. Just a few acquaintances- Kihyun of MX Pharmaceuticals, which I thought was odd, but they were a gang before they became a pharmaceutical company, so maybe she encountered them at some point. They literally know everyone.”

“And her roommate just so happens to be Wendy.”

“I dismissed it as a coincidence. She couldn’t be one of the RV spies, could she?”

“Nope. They’re far too meticulous.”

“You assigned bookkeeping to a person who was acquainted with both Kihyun and Wendy?” Yunho raised his brows in disbelief. “That’s too big a coincidence, guys.”

“Wendy is under a disguise, Luna probably doesn’t know what she actually does,” Yeosang said. “Besides… I trust her. I really believe it wasn’t necessary to just kill her like that. It’s not like she knows what’s inside this,” Yeosang poked the packet with his finger.

“I don’t think Chan’s gang got a whiff of our drug dealing,” Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his lengthy locks. “They must have attacked just to get us riled up. They wish to tarnish our reputation because General Wi is choosing sides.”

“We really need to check if the thing about the artefacts gallery is true,” Yunho said. “If it is, we have to tread carefully. Hongjoong will be pissed to learn what happened tonight.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Seonghwa got up. “This girl… Luna?”

“That’s what everyone calls her here,” Yeosang said and Seonghwa nodded slowly.

“She’s something. I’ll verify her information- it’s probably true. Tell her we’ve got a new job for her.”

When you bluffed your way out of your death- though you hadn’t really lied, you did hold information that could ruin Eden- you didn’t expect that you’d find yourself with a new job in the main office of the Crescent Company. You paused in the middle of recording the last entries of the day and your job, only to catch Yeosang watching you with interest.

You folded your arms, staring back and pulling your lower lip between your teeth in contemplation.

“Are you sure this isn’t just a trap to kill me? You could just shoot me and get on with your day, why go through all these lengths?”

Yeosang’s rich laughter boomed in the office room and you sent a tired glare in his direction before going back to checking the receipts of the new stock.

“We would have killed you last night if we really wanted to.”

The nonchalance with which he said that sent a bitter taste down your throat, reminding you of familiar words you had heard a few years ago, but you knew that this situation was different- you had to believe that they were different. Otherwise, there was no hope left for Eden.

“I’m still mad that you signed me up for death with this job, by the way. That was a low blow.”

“You are our first bookkeeper,” Yeosang said in response. “We just didn’t know what to do… does that sound like a good excuse?”

“Hardly,” you muttered. “I thought we were… acquaintances, if not friends. I respected you, Yeosang.”

Yeosang put a hand on his chest. “Respected? Do you hate me now?”

“I can’t really hate you when you’re… you,” you shut the register, looking at him.

You had spent long hours with Yeosang in this very office. Somehow, with him, it had always been naturally comfortable and he once admitted that he thought it was odd how you both could be in the same room, busy with your own work yet feeling right at home. Though you barely ever had a heart-to-heart with the man, the impression that he was a scary gangster had vanished long ago. He was scary when he had to be, but he just felt more human than his partners.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just a little hurt that you delivered me on a platter to your underboss for him to do whatever he wanted with me. Try to understand,” you explained. “And I still respect you, don’t worry.”

“He wouldn’t have killed you. I would have stopped him,” Yeosang insisted.

“You were more nervous than me,” you scoffed.

“I was nervous for you, that you were going to make a mistake and he would really have to kill you,” Yeosang admitted and you blinked in surprise. “But you did just fine on your own. Are you not going to tell me who you really are?”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” you told him. “I trust you just enough to gamble with my life, but I’ll reveal things only when I’m sure the information would be in safe hands. You have to trust me a little too. It’s not like I can betray you- where would I even go? You’re all going to kill me if I make a mistake anyway.”

Yeosang nodded- you had a point. “Have you got nothing to lose?”

“I’ve already lost everything that I had,” you shook your head. “I’ve only got my life now.”

“I have a feeling you’ll do well in the main office,” Yeosang clapped his hands once in conclusion. “Since you’re already aware that we’re doing both legal and illegal dealings, you can do bookkeeping there. I have to warn you though- if information ever leaks, they will kill you without hesitation.”

“Geez, thanks,” you winced. “Tell me something new.”

“I don’t know where you got the guts to talk back to me,” Yeosang laughed, shaking his head once. “But keep this up and you won’t last long.”

“Why?” You leaned forward on the table in challenge. “Are you and San the only ones who can converse like normal humans?”

“We’re always just a little tipsy,” Yeosang said cheekily and you realised he was right. “You shouldn’t see me when I’m sober.”

You pursed your lips, realising that he was right- if he was anything like the rest of his gang, he had to be drunk all this time if he could tolerate you, a mere employee, talking like you were on his level.

“Snob,” you muttered and got up to put these registers with the rest of the piles, ignoring Yeosang’s snickers. “Alright, my work here is done.”

“You’re fired,” Yeosang announced with a grin. “I’ve wanted to say that to you for so long.”

“You’re hopeless! I’ve been promoted, not fired,” you corrected.

“Whatever,” Yeosang got up, checking the time on his wristwatch. “San will be here in a few minutes- he’ll accompany you to the main office. You can say your farewells but you’ll be here often. It’s not a goodbye.”

“Okay,” you stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around- the beige walls with paint peeling in the corner, the dark shelves and furniture, the gramophone in one corner that you never played because you could always hear music from outside.

“I’ll miss this,” you took a deep breath, nodding as you memorised and soaked in the feeling of this room.

“You’ll be back,” he assured, giving you a moment. “Now off you go.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, very out-of-character for you and taking him by surprise, you exited the office. You could hear what his response would have been- ‘just because we decided to keep you alive doesn’t mean that you can act out!’ but it was exactly that. If you had their protection, you would act out- just not to them.

To the people who wore the cloaks of saints over their demonic hearts and ruled over Eden.

“Luna!,” Eunbi spread her arms as soon as she spotted you and you gladly let her hug you. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’m hearing I’ll be here often, so you won’t have to worry too much,” you poked her ribs, making her squirm as she laughed. “Just stay safe. And no matter what, do not become their bookkeeper.”

Eunbi frowned at that but before she could ask you more, the bell over the front door chimed and you knew it was San the way the bar suddenly fell quiet. You let go of Eunbi and patted her cheek before meeting eyes with San who waved at you.

Waved. You were a little pleased to see that the new arrangement was as awkward for him as it was for you. Eunbi echoed that out loud with a ‘did he just…?’ and you told her to get back to the counter.

“Hi,” San stifled a smile. “Good to see you’re still in one piece.”

“No thanks to you,” you countered. “Shall we?”

“I’m just going to let Yeosang know that I’m here,” San said, finally chuckling. “Look, if it helps, Seonghwa wasn’t really going to kill you.”

“I keep hearing that, but it just feels like you’re trying to convince yourselves instead of me,” you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. I'll say my farewell to Yuju.”

You agreed to meet outside in five minutes and you went to find Yuju, who told you to stay safe. Jeonghan looked more worried than Yuju- he had overheard some of their conversation last night about them getting rid of you but you assured him it was alright now. You just found out something you shouldn’t have so they were just being cautious. Though he didn’t look convinced, he let you go with an affectionate pat to your shoulder and a joke about how no one is going to let him nap in peace anymore.

Before you went outside, you took a look in the mirror and adjusted your black slacks and the rounded collar of your cream blouse before wearing your black coat over it. San was already waiting for you in his car- a black ‘67 Bentley- and you got in the backseat, your heart beating in anticipation.

“It’s not a long drive from here,” San said, “But I thought as an apology, I’d give you a ride.”

“I’ve been in better cars, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you said and San deadpan stared at you. You squirmed, realising an explanation would entail revealing details from your background. “I mean… the condition could definitely improve.”

“Yeah, it’s been through a lot, you’re right, “ San let out a chuckle before glancing at you. “You’re not going to tell me where exactly you’ve been in better cars? Because as far as I know, you were struggling to make a living when you first got a job here.”

“That was because I moved back from Wonderland after a long time,” you fiddled with your pearl ring. “Anyone would struggle.”

“And how do you really know Kihyun?”

Kihyun- he was almost like a brother to you. As a child, you had often seen him go in and out of your house because of some business dealings with your father. Though your father kept you hidden for the most part, having homeschooled you and pretending that you were his niece instead of daughter, Kihyun knew. He was far too smart to be deceived by a simple lie, and your brother had made it painfully obvious that he hated you for a reason. And when everything went wrong, Kihyun was there as a shield.

He had offered you a place in his company too, but you could not possibly involve Kihyun into your plans for the demise of your enemies. You respected him far too much to drag him into your mess.

“He’s just a connection- we have a few mutual acquaintances.”

“And who might they be?” San asked but you shook your head.

“I can’t reveal their identities… yet,” you said and when he narrowed his eyes, you stifled a smile. “Is there something I should know before we reach the office?”

“Well,” San exhaled, thinking. “It’s going to be quite different from the bar- more professional and tense. I’m sure the secretaries you’ll work with will warm up to you eventually but they might come off as unwelcoming or prickly at first.”

“We’ll see,” you said. “And… will I be interacting with… one of you often?”

“Why?” San questioned, a playful smile gracing his lips. “Is there someone you’d like to interact with?”

“That’s not what I mean-” you started but the car came to a halt and with a dirty look thrown in San’s direction, you got out of the car and craned your neck to look at the double-story building that was the main office for Crescent Company.

It wasn’t anything much, and you knew that that was intentional. Just like all the other office buildings in this somewhat posh area of the town, it had a chestnut brick wall with a new moon that made up for the ‘c’ in crescent. The guard situated at the front door bowed to San as you entered. The employees inside acknowledged San’s presence, halting what they were doing and only resuming once San nodded. There were a handful of them- a receptionist and a few workers coming in and out of the unlabelled rooms. You supposed everyone was assigned a task and had respective offices.

“This is us,” San announced, motioning at the somewhat lifeless interior. “Nothing much, and we would like to keep it that way. You’ll be working upstairs with Jihoon and Eunha- they are our boss’ secretary.”

“Mr. Park’s?” You questioned as you followed him at the end of the hall towards the stairs.

“And Hongjoong’s,” San said and you paused in the middle of ascending the stairs.

“I’m going to work for Kim Hongjoong?”

“Relax,” San snickered. “He’s always holed up in his office if he’s not in the field, and Jihoon does the assistant work. You won’t encounter him too much.”

“That’s not the point,” you muttered. You reached the upper story to see three rooms across the spacious hall which was set up as an office itself. There were two people working in that space, sitting in front of the windows where there were three desks in a row. It didn’t look out of place since their workspaces were spread across the entirety of the hall. The empty desk looked a bit odd, though, and you reckoned it had been set for you which meant they must have moved things around a bit.

“I’ll leave you to get acquainted with them,” San said. “There won’t be much to do for a few days until they think you can handle the work.”

When Jihoon’s burning gaze met yours indicating his annoyance- already?- you gulped. Perhaps, you should have stuck to the bar or denied their offer. Jihoon was quick to change his expressions as he rose from his seat.

“Mr. Choi,” Jihoon greeted and Eunha looked a bit surprised as if she hadn’t heard you two come. She followed with her own greeting, tucking her short pink hair behind her ear in what looked like a nervous habit.

“This is… Jeon y/n- the new secretary. I hope you’ll train her well. She’s already familiar with bookkeeping so I don’t think she’ll have to learn much.”

“No worries, we’ll handle it,” Jihoon said. “Nice to meet you, Miss Jeon.”

“Nice to meet you too. You can just call me Luna- everyone does.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Eunha shook hands with you. “This is your desk, and I’ll give you a walkthrough before Jihoon takes you around the office, is that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling hopeful. You turned to San. “I think I got it from here.”

“Very well,” San nodded. “Take care of her- she’s got potential.”

Jihoon only smiled in response and as soon as San was out of sight, he slumped down on his desk and went back to typing. You turned to Eunha who only smiled awkwardly, muttering ‘he’s a bit cranky at times’ and you shrugged. You could deal with cranky.

Eunha told you about your duties- bookkeeping since you had experience, typing a report each night that Mr. Park or Mr. Jeong would be signing, and any other miscellaneous tasks that Eunha and Jihoon couldn’t cover in their shift hours. Once she was done briefing, she handed you over to Jihoon who made a display of grunting in annoyance before he guided you downstairs to the last room which was essentially a storage.

“You must know that not all the business under the Crescent Company is legal,” he said and you nodded. “Where would you keep the record of illegal transactions?”

“Definitely not here?”

“Here,” he corrected, “but concealed while still being right in front of your eyes. In the case of a raid by the detectives because a certain inspector has been on our case for a while, they will take everything in here, right? The illegal transactions are kept in a safe behind that painting,” he pointed towards the mediocre painting of cherry trees in the darkest corner of the room.

“And the key?”

“A code, this time,” he said. “I’m still hesitant about sharing it with you but Mr. Choi said you could be trusted.”

“I’ve handled such matters before, yes,” you told him, understanding why he was sceptical about you. “There’s a reason I’m here.”

“That is definitely not the reason why you’re here,” Jihoon scoffed loudly. “Just because you passed a little trust test does not mean you get a position as the boss’s secretary. Eunha and I have worked under them since the beginning- that’s a plausible reason. They trust us.”

Though you wanted to argue with the man, you decided that you would be better off being civil towards him if you had to tolerate him to keep your job.

“Who else knows the key?”

“Apart from the boss, underboss and consigliere… only Eunha and I. So if information leaks, if the location of the safe leaks-”

“I’ll be the obvious suspect, of course,” you nodded and Jihoon considered you for a moment before acknowledging your answer.

“Our schedules are going to change now, so there is always at least one person out of the three of us in the office at all times, though the three of us must always be present in the 12 to 2pm slot. In case of an emergency, you are expected- obliged to get down here and escape with the contents of this safe, is that clear?”

“Clear as day,” you confirmed.

“1024 is the code,” Jihoon said and you nodded, memorising it. “Now, let me show you where we keep the official records.”

You took note of every little thing Jihoon had to tell you. Eunha observed how you worked for the rest of the evening and made you acquainted with the methods that you were to use. You were familiar with the work- you had already been in charge of tracking expenses, monitoring budget and keeping a record of all the financial transactions in the Crescent Bar. Eunha was going to take care of tax payments and returns while Jihoon was going to supervise.

It was a manageable workload so you were pleased with your current position- you just hoped the two would warm up to you soon. You did not expect them to get along with you, you just prayed they would remain civil and not stir any trouble.

Your schedule was going to change from the next day and your shift was from 6pm to midnight- or more, if the need be- and you would also have to be present in the 12 to 2 pm slot. Since you were going to be the one who would lock up the office, you received a set of keys which included one for the storage, one for the main door, and one for Jeong Yunho’s office- in case he or Park Seonghwa weren’t present- to lock away those documents. You were to place them in the cupboard in Mr. Jeong’s room.

While you were in the office today, you didn’t encounter any of your bosses. You figured their absence wasn’t unusual since no one was talking about them. Eunha helped you prepare the report that you were to hand over tonight in her stead if anyone did visit the office because she had a work appointment and needed to be there. She told you to make sure that all the locks are in place before you leave for home.

While you waited for the clock to strike midnight- which was about twenty minutes from now- you busied yourself with scratching your pencil at a piece of paper that was going to be discarded anyway. One thing that calmed you like nothing else was the feeling of the pencil’s lead rubbing against the grains of the paper and leaving a mark for you to play with. With a very specific picture in your mind, you continued to draw straight lines, sharp curves and edges, adding the elements of threat and danger where needed, but preserving the softness of it all-

“What are you doing here?”

You looked up to find not the person you were hoping to see but the person you wanted to avoid the most.

Jeong Yunho.

Lieutenant Jeong Yunho, all dressed up in a black suit with engraved silver buttons, the black tie loose on his neck, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. Your eyes travelled up to his parted lips, to the muscles of his jaw flexing and unflexing, to his dark gaze trained not on you but lower- what was he looking at-

You subconsciously put a hand over your incomplete sketch and got up in greeting. “Lieutenant Jeong. I have the report- Eunha had a work engagement.”

“I see,” he nodded slowly as if still coming to terms that you were to work here now. You could return the sentiment- it was a strange feeling to see him here. You had acknowledged each other’s presence in silence and at rare times, shared a drink (you didn’t often drink at the bar). But standing across each other in this formal setting…

“Well?”

You broke out of your trance, feeling heat creep up your neck. Perhaps, you were waiting for him to call you to his office. Had you expected him to do that because Yeosang had done the same once? He had been so nonchalant about everything but right now, you felt overwhelmed. You fumbled with the folders until you dug out the report, cursing yourself internally because why didn’t you place it right on the top?

You extended your hand and he drew closer to grab the document from you, reminding you once again of how tall he was. You gulped- there was no way to explain what you were feeling except a crushing sense of intimidation that made you feel so very small. It had been about a year, yet whenever you were in his presence, your mind took you back to memory lane-

Specifically the lane near the bar where he ended his enemies and found you watching. Neither of you ever addressed why you had been there or why he had done all of that mercilessly.

“Looks fine,” he said, turning the few pages and skimming through them. “You can leave now- it’s almost closing time. I’ll lock the doors behind me”

“Alright…” were you two the only ones inside the building? “Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

“You don’t have to call me lieutenant, you know,” he said and you met his eyes again, finding the ends of his lips slightly curled in a… smile? Or was that a smirk?

“How would you have me address you then?”

Somehow, it oddly reminded you of a similar conversation you had with Yeosang, except you had been calling him ‘sir’ and he couldn’t stop snorting everytime you called him that. He let it be for the entire day until he told you to just call him Yeosang- calling him sir in an informal environment only earned him odd looks. You argued that apart from the selected few employees, literally everyone called him ‘sir’ or a variation of it, but he insisted that you already sounded like something was stuck up your [redacted] and he didn’t want to add on to that.

That was the only time he saw your composure break. The rest was history.

The consigliere shrugged, giving you yet another glimpse of the person he was. He didn’t like to be called lieutenant, even though this was a formal environment.

“Mr. Jeong then, since everyone calls you that,” you concluded.

“And do you still go by Luna?”

“I… do.”

He nodded once, his gaze falling at the paper you were hiding from him. You kept your hand placed over it and he turned, disappearing into his office. You didn’t miss the frustrated grunt that escaped his mouth as he shut the door.

Your shoulders relaxed and you picked the paper- he had definitely seen and recognised the gun that you had just seen last night on the table, and he probably recognised the hand that held it as well- the long, slender fingers that radiated delicacy despite being roughed up.

The hand of the underboss of Crescent Company. Someone you had wished to meet before the night ended.

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gffa · 2 days ago

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I'm still trying to navigate my way through the absolute avalanche of Arcane fic, but I am here to scream at everyone about the fics I've loved so far and try to drag a few more of you down into this hellpit of feelings with me. It's nice down here, I promise! Totally normal and with soooo many hinges, nothing off a single hinge here!

JAYVIK RECS:

✦ To love is to risk the soul's quiet by Disguised_Bird, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 32.7k When an anomaly suddenly transports an older, scarred version of Jayce into the Jayce of Viktor's timeline, the two must navigate the strange collision of past and future while grappling with feelings neither fully understands. As they work late into the night to find a way to send Jayce back, tension turns into intimacy, pushing Viktor to confront vulnerabilities he has spent a lifetime burying.

✦ Say My Name by Acryllic, jayce/viktor, NSFW, eventually post-canon, 77.2k wip “Tell me now if you don’t want this.” He stroked Viktor’s bottom lip with his thumb, “Keep saying my name if you do.”

✦ This ain't goodbye no more, it just began by SirCumference, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 7.1k After he and Viktor save the world, Jayce wakes up in his old bed on the day it all started. Things are different, this time.

✦ first times, second goodbyes by tragicperformer, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 1.6k “What do you mean pull out?” He teases, the corners of his lips quirking up into a stupid, dopey grin. “I have separation anxiety.” “Yes, I know,” Viktor intones. “We were just discussing this. It is why I’m currently visiting you, rather than focusing on my duties back in the commune.” “Yeah. And when I pull out, you’re going to leave again,” Jayce rationalizes. Not entirely incorrect. “Just a few minutes. Please, Vik? Let me pretend for a little longer.”

✦ The Threads of Our Mind by Darling_Pigeon, jayce/viktor, post-canon, 3k Snapshot of Jayce and Viktor’s new life of exploration after the finale: Viktor helps Jayce adjust to his brace, but they discover they may be connected in another, strangely magical way.

✦ Time For Space by yurikazen, jayce/viktor, NSFW, post-canon, 6.6k First, there’s a wave of blinding light, tearing through the cosmos like a free-falling comet. Then, Jayce opens his eyes to find a smooth, unfamiliar ceiling above his head. (Jayce dies, holding Viktor close to him, yet death is just another beginning.)

✦ two left feet by ChiliCheeseCornDog, jayce/viktor, 4k Jayce rises from his seat, face set with a soft smile, and holds out his right hand with the palm facing up. “Let me teach you how.” The pause is long and unrelenting. “You are joking,” Viktor manages to say. or: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance, Piltover-style.

✦ destabilise by antiparticular, jayce/viktor, 3.6k Jayce was naked and in Viktor's bed. Don't get him wrong - Viktor had dreamed of this happening, both literally and on slow days in the lab when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent, but for it to manifest outside of his overactive imagination? He was half tempted to pinch himself to check he'd actually awoken. Why was Jayce Talis in Viktor's bed? And more pressingly, why did Viktor not remember?

✦ Run It Back Again by Withercrown, jayce/viktor & vander/silco & cast, 18.9k wip Sometimes there's nothing you can do except scrap the whole experiment and start over. The worst possible outcome becomes an opportunity for a new beginning. Viktor and Jayce, estranged enemies in a brutal war, go back to the start - and then earlier than that. The key to their salvation ends up being an undercity brat named Silco. He's not quite the person they remember.

✦ Electric Desires by abisbookcase, jayce/viktor, NSFW, 1.2k Viktor gets an important phone call in the middle of sex, and Jayce keeps fucking him roughly, trying to make him slip up while he talks.

✦ Between gears and parties by chaosheadspace, jayce/viktor, 3.6k "Why do you think it is so hard for people like me to get a footing here?" Viktor asks. "Aside from the obvious classism, of course. I'll tell you. Bureaucracy. Do you know how difficult it is to even find a place to live without a last name up here?” Or: Jayce wants to save his partner some trouble and gets them married on paper.

ZAUNDADS RECS:

✦ Take Me Like You Mean It by Anonymous, vander/silco, NSFW, 2k Young! Silco and Vander have sex in the alleyway behind the last drop after closing.

✦ Mr Eye of Zaun by limeta, vander/silco & jinx & vi & cast, 28.8k wip Mylo and Claggor would say there’s nothing that scares Vi. She can dish out punches and evade danger better than anyone. She’s their fearless leader, always ready to take them on a job and back without losing anyone. It’s that level of assurance that they have in her, that confidence she exudes, that makes them trust and believe in her. But they’re wrong. Powder knows there’s something that scares Vi. And that’s because it scares Vander. Or: Silco reads the letter Vander left in the mines and sticks around as a boogeyman in the Last Drop.

✦ let fall the world by perfidiousalbion, vander/silco, nsfw, 4.2k Or: before it all went wrong, Silco and Vander had something good.

✦ The Lives of Others by Lilbaebloo, vander/silco & ekko & benzo, NSFW, 5.1k Ekko drops an emotional grenade on Silco and Vander when he brings up their fated night at the river thirteen years earlier. The plunge into the past reminds them both of how far they've come, together and apart, and what they have to keep living for.

✦ The Shore From Which I Fell by ClutchHedonist, vander/silco, NSFW, 1.2k “I knew you still had it in you.” Silco’s mouth tastes of ash. His tongue, tacky and dry with the suffocating weight of it, threatens to stick to the roof of his mouth as his lips fall shut. He does his best to swallow past the whisper of bruising already blossoming in his throat where Vander’s broad hand has yet again left its mark.

✦ Night Business by spicedrobot, vander/silco, NSFW, rough sex, 2.6k The rulers of Zaun play a game.

✦ While the world turns around by Blue_Daddys_Girl, vander/silco & jinx & benzo, 8.9k In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

TIMEBOMB RECS:

✦ Little Crow by shroomyystar, ekko/jinx, 2.1k There’s a monster under his bed.

✦ Let's Give It One Last Try by the_whole_shebang, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 12.3k The war is finally over, and Ekko is finally home, but an old friend has one more favor to ask of him. Jinx found the strength to walk away, but something told her not to let go just yet. Maybe if Vi and Ekko hadn't given up on her yet, then she wouldn't either. Plus, thanks to Ekko, she was starting to think that the past wasn't as set in stone as she though it was.

✦ Let Me Try by Blue_Daddys_Girl, ekko/jinx, post-canon, 4.3k Ekko walks away from the final battle in a daze after learning that Jinx is dead. Or: An alternate ending to the show, in which she isn't, no matter what Vi believes.

SOMETIMES THE SHIPS AREN'T THE POINT RECS:

✦ wait 'til your sister sees where you've been by QwahaXahn, vi & jinx & cast, post-canon, 12.9k OR: Jinx falls. The bomb explodes. Everything goes white. ...And Vi wakes up in a different world.

✦ was it the worst you'd never know by Anonymous, jinx & silco, 2.2k “Fix him,” she demands, voice barely decipherable through the breaking and raspiness from crying. Gentle, gentle, as gentle as Singed knows how to be, which is not very. Jinx will have no qualms killing him if he steps wrong. “He is… very far gone.” And indeed he is. His chest does not rise, and his eyes are vacant. He is gone. “FIX. HIM.” aka jinx refuses to let her father die and brings him to singed. it goes better than expected

✦ Six Weeks Since by argonautoida, jinx & viktor, 2.1k Six weeks after Silco died, Jinx finally makes a friend.

#lumi.txt #arcane #jayvik #zaundads #timebomb #fic recs #arcane fic recs

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 2 days ago

Text

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟜 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔 (𝓕𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓓𝓻𝓸𝓹)

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

Part 1 𝜗𝜚 Part 2 𝜗𝜚 Part 3

𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 3 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭 12/27

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warning: language, verbal + physical fighting, graphic violence, blood mentioned, pet names, jealous!rafe, kissing, angst, manipulation, multiple povs, cheating, SMUT warning later

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you. What Rafe didn't expect was his jealousy… And what you didn't expect was a text from Cam a week later wanting to see you again. Rafe told you it was ‘okay’ if Cam stopped by. During the Skype convo, you realize that Rafe has no idea that his brother is there… Cam placed the original call. Rafe thinks you’re alone, and you leave it that way

Reader’s POV:

You glance at Cam, his wide eyes on yours, reflective and remorseful, but his face only adds to your anxiety. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. You reach for Rafe’s jersey and your panties, tugging them back on as tears well in your eyes.

“Cam, why did you—why did you do that?” You whisper, your voice is shaky with nerves. “Why would you pretend to be Rafe? Why would you lie to me like that?”

He shrugs defeatedly. “I wasn’t thinking…”

“You weren’t,” you whimper, avoiding his gaze as you tug on some sleep shorts, stumbling slightly as your body trembles. The weight of your deceit is suffocating, wearing heavily on your heart. Nothing is fine…

“I’m sorry. I don't know what else to say. I just couldn't stop thinkin’ about you, and I knew he was only going to get in the way-”

“As he should, Cam! You came in here? Why the fuck wouldn’t you have stayed out in the living room? This is bad enough on its own! Just fuckin’ leave.” Cam walks toward you, wrapping himself up in your arms. You bury your head in his chest, trying to fight him away but he just holds you tighter.

“I didn’t want to make things worse,” he says quietly, his voice calm but firm. “I know you don’t want me to leave.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words don’t come out. He’s right—part of you wanted him here. You’ve been thinking about it since the second he left. But that didn’t change anything… “No,” you whimper, your voice cracking with the emotion you’re trying to hold back. “I don’t want this… I don’t want this mess,” you whisper. “You and Rafe got me into this shit, and now everything feels like it’s falling apart. Rafe and I… we were so fuckin’ happy, Cam,” you whisper as tears start to glass in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles softly against your skin. “We never wanted you to feel this way, baby. It wasn’t supposed to be anything at all.”

You can hear the emotion in his words, the desire to pull away, and the desperation to hold on, pulling you in two directions.

“Just please… Just let Rafe and I work this out in the morning, alright? You don’t gotta worry about it. I don’t want to go anywhere, and I fuckin’ won’t. Rafe doesn’t want to lose you… He’d do anything for you. We got you into this mess. We will figure it out. Okay?”

You take a deep breath, completely overwhelmed by the moment. You had no idea what would happen next. Cam made it seem so easy—his thoughts about how Rafe would act if they just talked it out flowed so smoothly from his mouth; it’s almost like he believed that lie himself.

Cam was here… And a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let him go.

The darkness is exchanged for the day, soft light bleeding through the blinds as the sounds of the morning creeps through the cracked window. You shift slightly, letting out a lazy stretch, watching Cam’s hand move across your hip, making you freeze. The gravity of the situation sets in. You reach for your phone, checking the time, your head quickly snapping to the door as you hear a set of keys jiggle in the lock.

Your heart skips a beat with the creaking of the hinges, Rafe’s heavy feet moving along the hardwood floor; the thud of his bag landing shortly after. You tap Cam fast before scrambling to your feet, panic flooding your body. “Holy shit,” you whisper under your breath as you walk toward the closed door.

“Baby, you here?”

You push open the door, taking a step into the living room. Rafe’s smile doubles when he sees you. You feel the blood drain from your face as his demeanor shifts. He stands there stunned, his chest rising and falling slightly as his world crashes around him with Cam standing behind you.

“The fuck is happening?”

You reach for a breath, filling your lungs with air as you search for the words that will make this better, but there’s nothing that can make this better. Rafe stands there, his face unreadable for the moment, waiting for either of us to speak before something cracks.

“I said, ‘What the fuck is happening, huh?’” Rafe’s voice echoes through the house, hitting your chest hard.

“I’ll handle this, baby,” Cam says softly, his words sending chills down your spine as he steps around you, his eyes locked on Rafe’s and Rafe’s on his. Even the simple term of endearment felt wrong–hearing him say it so casually in front of Rafe. That simple name that let Rafe know that this was anything but casual for either of you.

“The fuck did you call her?” He asks in disgust, his voice tight with anger and confusion.

“What, you gettin’ jealous now?”

“Jealous?” Rafe’s voice raises, veins protruding as he steps toward the confrontation. “I’m not jealous of fuckin’ shit. Jealous? Jealous of you and MY fuckin’ girlfriend?”

Cam doesn’t flinch, taking a step closer as well. “Well, we both know she’s not just yours. So yeah. Think I'll call her whatever the fuck I like.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and everything went dead silent for the moment.

“Rafe-”

“Don't,” Cam stops you, putting a hand up, pleading with you to stop before you can say anything, his eyes soft and gentle, taking an entirely different approach with you. Rafe’s hands balled into fists, his muscles tight; face red. “You need to get the fuck out,” he spits, his voice low and lethal.

Cam doesn't budge; his posture relaxed. He’s probably the only person in the world who wouldn’t be cowering now. Rafe’s body language matches Cam’s, their emotions like looking in a goddamn mirror.

“Not goin’ anywhere,” Cam breathes.

“Rafe,” you gasp as Rafe’s fist shoots out, connecting with his brother’s jaw, making him struggle back, your stomach turning at the sound of it. Cam lunges at Rafe, pushing him back, making him hit the counter, and pictures and items crash to the floor.

The fight became a storm of punches, shoves, and sheer chaos as you watched in horror, neither of them showing any signs of backing down at all as you yelled and screamed for them to stop.

It was a fair fight–each landed jab met with equal force. Your hand clasps over your mouth as you watch your boyfriend go at it. You’ve seen him fight plenty; Rafe always gets the upper hand and fast. But not now… They don’t stop; their faces a mess of blood and bruises, lips split, noses bleeding, but neither seems to care.

That tension… That frustration that you felt all week was clearly felt by the boys as well. Mixing their jealousy on top of it… this was bound to happen. You try to stop them one last time, knowing the only way to tear these two dogs apart would be to leave.

Tears well in your eyes as you grab your keys and head toward the door,. Just as you reach the it, everything stops; just the sounds of their heavy breathing fill the space around you. “You can’t be serious?” Rafe pants, his voice breaking with anger. “Gonna fuck my brother. Walk out and not say shit to me?” Rafe’s voice bellows through the house. You turn around, matching his darkened eyes as tears of shame and sadness slip down your cheeks.

“You guys are scaring me, alright?” You cry. “I just wanted you to stop.”

“M’sorry, princess,” Cam pants, and Rafe shoves his fist against his chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt as he pulls it tight.

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

“Yeah, bitch? Or what?” Cam spits with a cruel smile as he steps closer, pushing his forehead against Rafe’s.

“STOP! Just fucking stop, alright?” You scream, making both of them turn to you. “Look at you guys. What the fuck is happening right now?” You ask, your voice laced with tears. “This whole situation is a fucking mess. And you both ruined everything. EVERYTHING!”

You turn your attention to Cam, walking toward him, pressing your finger into his chest as your heart hammers. “You lied about that fucking phone call, Cam.”

“What phone call?” Rafe asks weakly.

“You shouldn’t be here!” You continue. “I trusted you… You pretended to be your own brother. You came into the room and blindsided me mid-conversation. I can’t help how I feel about you, alright? I’m sorry that I feel something for you after that night. But I fucking do. Okay? Okay?” You scream, turning your attention from Cam to Rafe. “You know that I love you, Rafe… But you also know there’s something between him and me, and I can’t fuckin’ stop. And Cam… Jesus Christ. You keep putting me in situations, tempting me where if I turn you down I lose you.”

“I’m sorry I-” Cam starts.

“No fuck you. Keep your fucking sorrys to you self. And you,” your eyes cut to Rafe. “You ruined everything. If you wanted me to yourself, why would you put me through this in the first place, huh? You made me fucking beg for this, Rafe. And then, even after I begged, you said ‘it wasn’t enough,’ you wanted me to beg some more. If I meant so much to you, why the HELL would you even suggest this? You knew I was worried. You said ‘that night wouldn’t change anything,’ and I fucking believed you.”

“Just calm down, alright-”

“I told you I was worried!” You interject, voice shattered as you choke out your words. “I said that this isn’t something you do with a girlfriend. This seems like something you would do with some random girl at a bar. Not someone you wanted to be with forever. You said, ‘It was just going to be a fun night…’”

“I didn't think this would happen…”

“You messed me up, Rafe. I caught feelings for your brother and I love you. You put me in this situation, and now we’re fucked.”

Rafe’s face goes pale, his jaw clenched tightly as he looks at you, trying to comprehend what you’re saying.

Your bottom lip quivers as you blink away your tears, tugging off Rafe’s gold family ring before resting it on the counter. His eyes soften with hurt and anger. “You’re actin’ like you didn’t just sleep with my brother when I told you last week that I was jealous.”

“Yeah, Rafe? And when I told you ‘we don’t have to do that again’ and ‘I won’t talk to Cam,’ you said that ‘it wasn’t necessary and you just want me to remember who I belong to’.”

“Mhmm-yeah,” he huffs as he steps a little closer. “And I told you ‘I didn’t want him talking to you without me,’ and you fucked him…” His nostrils flare as tears brim in his waterline.

“We didn’t,” Cam mumbles.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” Rafe screams back at his brother before turning his attention back to you, taking a deep breath. “You did somethin’ I know you did,” he softens his tone, hurt and accusatory, cutting right through you. “I need a fuckin’ answer, alright? Me or him?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, not giving him the quick answer he was looking for.

“JESUS FUCK. I can’t believe I’m even askin’ you this twice. ME OR HIM?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“How the FUCK you not know, huh? I am so fucking sure about you. How the hell do you not know?”

“Because, Rafe… We’re not going through the same shit. You have no idea what this feels like for me. I’m fuckin’ spiraling. I didn’t tell you about the text I got from Cam this morning. It was eating at me all day… I didn’t know whether to respond or let it go. And, I knew that if I didn’t say anything, he’d come regardless because you two are the fuckin’ same. So, when he called pretending to be you, I told him about the texts. He told me ‘I was fine,’ he told me to ‘stop worrying,’ and that he would talk to him… And then when he got here, he told me it’s okay and that you have me… You’re both fucking liars. The second I found out that he wasn’t telling the truth, I should have told you… I should have asked him to leave. But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice thick with frustration.

“I could ask you the same fuckin’ thing, Rafe. Why did we do this in the first place? Why are you jealous? Why are things different with me? I don’t know why I feel this way, just like you don’t know why all of a sudden this little thing the two of you do for fun all the sudden turned into the bad fuckin’ idea it was. I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving? Where are you goin’?” Rafe asks as you storm down the front porch, the two boys trailing close behind you.

You grab the car door, tugging it open, but Rafe grabs it, his piercing blue eyes burning into yours. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” you breathe.

“You said ‘you love me,’” he struggles to push the words through his tight lips. “You said ‘you loved me, and you’re fuckin’ leaving me.”

“Oh my god. I love you, Rafe. We were fuckin’ perfect… Excuse me for needing a moment to think about how that got taken away.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he pleads, his knuckles turning white with his grip on the door. “I can’t lose you. Please.”

“Don’t leave,” Cam steps in. “Please. I’ve ruined enough, okay? I’ve fucked up so much shit for the two of you. I should have known this would eventually happen. I know how Rafe talks about you… He loves you so much. We weren’t thinking. I’ll go. Just–Just don’t leave him,” Cam begs, holding back his emotions too.

“I’m not choosing either of you… I just need some time to think.” You tug on the door; Rafe fights against you monetarily, “Give me some fucking time to think, Rafe.”

He submits as he sees the look in your eyes and the pain all this caused. “I’m sorry, princess.”

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻, 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻…

iMessages

Rafe: I messed up baby

Rafe: I never should’ve put you in that position and I’m so sorry

Rafe: I love you more than anything

Cam: I’m sorry for everything that happened and for lying to you. I knew by the way Rafe talked about you that it was dumb in the first place, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know where this was headed even before we started.

Cam: I saw you before we met. I acted like I didn’t. But I saw the two of you on IG. I saw how fucking pretty you are. Got an idea of what he kinda girl you were… listened to his stories and shit i knew this was going to be trouble before it even started.

Rafe: I keep replaying everything over and over. Everything that you told me. You were so worried and I said I would take care of you. I’m supposed to take care of you.

Cam: I’m sorry for lying to you. I can’t believe I did that shit.

Rafe: Im begging you for anything. Please

Rafe: Saw you in the library. You look so pretty baby. I miss you so much

Cam: Merry Christmas

Cam: It hurts to hear Rafe talk about you. I’m sorry

Rafe: just want you to know that I’ll do anything to fix this

Rafe: Give me 5 minutes alright? Just 5 minutes I won’t take any more of your time.

Cam: If you’re ever willing to talk to me, just know I’m here. I can meet you anywhere. Anytime.

Rafe: When you’re ready I’ll be here. I hope you’re taking care of yourself

Rafe: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me

Rafe: You’re always on my mind. I’m so fucked up about this.

Rafe: I love you

Rafe: im sorry

𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 31𝓼𝓽…

Rafe’s POV:

Apparently, there’s a party goin’ on here tonight… Smiling, laughter, and clinking glasses fill the air, but the only thing I can see is her, all the sounds around me fading into the back as my racing thoughts take the front seat.

She’s beautiful. Fuck, she always looks good. She smiles and laughs; if I didn’t know her well enough, I’d buy it… I can’t believe I lost her–fumbled the best thing I ever had. She was everything to me. Our relationship was so fucking good. Now, it’s gone.

Cam stands next to me, sipping his whiskey. He looks out at the crowd, his eyes following her, too. The tension between us is thick. He feels the same way I do. He misses her. We both fuckin’ do.

“Somethin’s off, huh?” Cam asks, his voice gentle as he picks up on the same thing I did.

I sigh deeply, running my fingers through my hair. “Yeah. That ain’t her,” I answer against the rim of my glass. ‘Not her…’ He knows what I mean: that little light that’s usually in her eyes has dimed, her forced smile not even reaching her eyes. “I fucked everything up.” I rasp, feeling the bite of the liquor burn down my throat, numbing my nerves slightly.

“We both did,” he mumbles, his voice tight as he rubs his hand over his buzzed head.

The night goes on, and I still can’t take my eyes off her. She hangs out with her friends, floating between conversations, and suddenly, my world turns upside down. A guy? Someone new? I recognized him from campus, a hockey player… Heyward? I don’t fuckin’ know. Regardless, my stomach twisted in knots seeing her with someone else because, for a split second, she looked happy, and that should have been enough, but it did nothing but make all those thoughts in my brain louder. It does nothin’ but break my heart even more.

She found someone else.

Cam and I exchange glances, quietly watching, living the same nightmare.

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Cam said quietly, his voice full of longing.

I clench my jaw, fists tightening at my sides. “I feel the same way. But we can’t force her to choose. Looks like—” I clear my throat, battling back my tears. “Umm… It looks like she found someone else anyway.”

“No way, man.”

“Regardless, we need to give her space and let her figure it out. And if she comes back around, we just have to promise each other that whoever she chooses is just that. Alright? None of this sneakin’ around bullshit,” I whisper, trying not bring up the past, but for the first time, I get a taste of what it felt like to be him… I don’t even think I could follow my own orders if she chooses Cam. I don’t fuckin’ blame him, honestly.

“I think I love her, man,” Cam whispers.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew it was fuckin’ true– I knew after that first night they were together this shit wasn’t gonna end well for me. But hearing him say it out loud… That’s a hard pill to swallow. I shut my eyes, breathing deeply before letting out a deep sigh.

“‘Course you do…”

Got nothin’ to lose. The only thing that I had I threw away. Every day we’re not together feels like a wasted moment. Every night I spend time alone, hurts a little more than the last. I gotta make this right…

I walk up to her, my heart racing in my chest. She looks up at me, fluttering her lashes, surprised to see me here. And with my arrival little light flickering in her eyes dims entirely, and I know it’s my fault.

“Can we talk,” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.

She hesitates, then nods, giving me a gentle smile. “Okay,” the word passes her lips as I hear her voice for the first time in too long… I extend my hand, and she takes it, following me out of the thick crowd, out of the swanky hotel bar into the lobby of the Ritz.

Cam steps away from the reception desk, thanking the clerk before stuffing his wallet in his pocket. He turns toward us, eyes locked on her, that same look in his eyes as mine. We gotta fix this.

Reader's POV:

The three of you walk into a dark hotel room, the city lights glittering outside the windows as the New Year’s Eve fireworks pop and crack in the sky. Cam flicks on a light, and Rafe pops open a bottle of champagne, filling three flutes.

You take a breath, feeling your heart patter and your stomach flutter. The night took a turn; one moment, you were chatting and drinking with your friends, and the next, the boys whisked you away for a chat. You’d be lying if you didn’t expect to see them; after Rafe had liked a picture of you getting ready on Instagram, it was only a matter of time.

These men take what they want and don’t go down without a fight…

Rafe passes you a glass, looking down at you with a nervous smile. He hands one to Cam as well, who looks down at you with that same reflective face.

“Thanks for agreeing to come up here,” Rafe breathes, and you give him a nod before taking the champagne to your lips. “I know I keep sayin’ it, but. I’m sorry,” he says softly, his blue eyes meeting yours. “We shouldn’t have put you in that spot. You were right; all the girls were just hookups before… Nothing serious. Nothing like you,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry, too,” Cam starts next, his eyes brimming with guilt. “I lied… to him, to you. I told him I understood where he was comin’ from. I told him he had nothin’ to worry about, and I knew I was lying. I manipulated you… I shouldn’t have done that. And, I’m sorry I let on that I didn’t know her…” Rafe doesn’t say anything at first, his face hardening as he realizes the last apology was for him, not you. He blinks a few times, repeating the words in his head.

“Cam-” Rafe starts.

“When I first met her, I acted like I didn’t know her. But that wasn’t true. After you started datin’, I followed her on social media and learned more about her. I knew somethin’ like this could happen…” Cam continues, his voice trailing away with remorse. “And, I’d be lying to you if I said ‘I wasn’t hopin’ for it to happen.’ I didn’t think about what would happen beyond that… This shit. I don’t know. I was hoping it would work out. I didn’t back off when you asked me to, Rafe. I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry.”

Rafe’s expression darkens for the moment. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, choosing his battles, a mixture of sadness and betrayal in his eyes nonetheless. “So what? You thought you were just gonna come in here and break us up? What the fuck-”

“No… I don’t know what I was thinking,” Cam answers truthfully.

You sit there silent, stunned by their admittance, their utter vulnerability. They clearly had a while to cool down and think it through. But you knew you were blameless; the weight also hung heavy on your shoulders.

“I should’ve told you to leave, Cam,” you say softly. “I could have stopped it the second I knew the call earlier was you and not Rafe. You were walking out of the door, and I pulled you back in…”

“Holy shit,” Rafe mutters under his breath weakly before looking away, downing the rest of his champagne. “I was really confused. I was overwhelmed; the last thing I should have done was that. I’m so, so sorry, Rafe,” you whisper as a few tears spring from your eyes.

Rafe takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, rolling out the tension in his neck before turning around again. He walks toward you, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, lifting your gaze to his. “Don’t apologize to me,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “You told me you were worried… You told me that you loved me… I said I’d take care of you, and look how it turned out. Nothing would have happened if I just listened like I should have.”

Rafe’s eyes lift from yours, looking over his shoulder at his brother. You turn around, watching Cam take a few paces, his big arms crossed over his chest for comfort, trying his best to keep his feelings at bay.

“I can’t stay here,” Cam says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I should have told him ‘no’ ‘cause I was in too deep from the start. I should have backed off… If I had done that, the two of you would have been fine. You’re a good girl, and Rafe loves you. I should’ve respected that from the start.”

“Cam…” You breathe, your voice trembling, just knowing what’ll come next.

“I just want you both to be happy,” Cam continues, his gaze sincere but heavy as he blinks some tears away, running his eyes along the sleeve of his suit. “I know I made this harder. I’ll be fine. But I’ll always have love for you. I’ll control myself from now on. I promise you both. I swear.” Cam reaches out for you, pulling you into a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

Your eyes pinch shut, and you feel a sense of reserve wash over you despite the sadness. You missed what you had with Rafe but weren’t sure how to balance it all.

“Later, man,” Cam draws away before pulling Rafe into a hug. “Key card is on the nightstand, alright. I’ll see you at the house tomorrow. You two have a great night,” he smiles, speaking sweetly even though you can tell he’s just holding on by a thread.

𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎…

𝜗𝜚 𝓒𝓪𝓶 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝜗𝜚 𝓒𝓪𝓶 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓼

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @littlelamy @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush @bloodibambiidoll @laniirackssss @jkrafe @wtfdudesblog @alejstarkey @rafe-cameronswife @rafe-cameronswife @rafedaddy01

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luvmanifesting · 1 day ago

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REASSURANCE post

feel like you failed 2024? because you wasted all your time scrolling instead of applying? well i’m gonna be straightforward with you in this post even thought its meant to help you feel better. in 2025 what YOU are going to stop doing is stop constantly looking for answers and you are going to start applying with what the information you have already and use that to manifest everything you want. idc if you have to robotically affirm or chant to whoever you believe in TAKE action already! no more crying, no more saying “ugh idm ill just shift anyway” no more procrastinating NO MORE LOOKING FOR ANSWERS. the only reason majority of you guys manifested NOTHING this year was:

you kept procrastinating

you were definitely being lazy

yes you were constantly reacting to the 3D

you seek validation from the 3D

you have a victim mindset

gross..!!! you are NOT entering 2025 like that! if its new years eve for you then you still have a chance to make things right for yourself, you absolutely can induce pure consciousness before the clock hits 12:00 YES YOU CAN YES YOU CAN. BUTT back to the main point of this post. REASSURANCE

you are okay, you are not a failure and no 2025 will not fail you, dust yourself off and wipe your tears you are not the only one struggling i promise. there are tons of people in this community with the lack of understanding and desperately needing answers like you but now its time to rid of that victimization mentality. you are GOD and if you don’t like that term then you are the CREATOR. remember please remember the 3D is dead, the 4D is the true reality. you were born with the most powerful gifts ever; IMAGINATION, AFFIRMATIONS. use your gifts to your advantage, you are not unlucky, you are not unworthy. acknowledge what you are not bringing in 2025 and let go of everything holding you back. yes you can manifest with terrible circumstances, yes you can induce pure consciousness at any time anywhere. QUIT looking at success stories for motivation. it brings jealousy and doubts. and why are you dependent on motivation?? its called discipline.

bring your 2025 shit you never thought you can ever have, do it for your name, do it for yourself, do it for the experiences you wish to have, do it for fun, do it stressed out, do it when you’re bored. MANIFESTING IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. if it feels like a chore then you’re doing it wrong, if you have to force yourself to affirm you’re doing it wrong.

LAW OF ASSUMPTION: assuming what you want to be true without the validation of the 3D (basically without proof). You affirm and then you decide you have it. Manifestation is not a process.

PURE CONSCIOUSNESS: only aware of the 4D just forget about the 3D.

hope to see plenty of success stories this year.

#loa tumblr #pure consciousness #loa #manifesation #void state #loa success

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skteezcursed · 1 day ago

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❝devilish little minx❞ — j.yh.

PAIRING. perv! jeong yunho x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. the two of them are massive perverts. hard dom(?)! yunho. switch! reader. masturbation (fem). voyeurism. wet dream. light chocking. slapping (face, clit and breast - i didn't count them, sorry). dirty talk. name calling (slut, perv, good girl, pretty, handsome, brat, etc). mentions of deep throating. manhandling. sucking fingers (?). overstimulation. p in v. fingering. handjob + blowjob. i think that's all, if i forgot something lmk.

SYNOPSIS. yunho had you on his mind since the first time he met you. once you moved into his house out of the invite your best friend and his roommate, things took a turn to the worse. until one day he caught you, or did you catch him?

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. ~4,8k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. last fic of the year, let's gooooo! this is part of the pirateez collab of perverted ateez (i'm sorry for the delay!), here are the other ones if you'd like to read it: kim hongjoong | park seonghwa | jeong yunho | kang yeosang | choi san | song mingi | jung wooyoung | choi jongho . this was the first fic i wrote full since the last one i posted in july, i hope it is at least half as good as the others in this collab. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

You were a blessing and a curse.

At first, when Yeosang brought you to their group of friends, it was like the doors to heaven had been open. It wasn’t like he didn’t believe in angels, no, he did, but he never thought he’d see one in person, until you walked through the doors of the apartment that one fatidic day that Yeosang decided to call you and ask you to join.

The curse started when he found out you had a boyfriend, but again, nothing that was bad couldn’t get worse right? A small curse in disguise of a blessing. You had broken up, and you didn’t want to set foot in the apartment you shared with your ex, but Yeosang was quick to offer their apartment for the time being. It wasn’t like Yunho was opposed to it, on the contrary, they had a guest room that could easily be your home for the time being. The actual curse came when he started to find your clothes hanging on the apartment, your lace underwear drying in your room when you were out for University, the small moans and whimpers you’d make from time to time as you tried to open something or were frustrated with whatever.

But the real curse was when he took his headphones after a game with his friends and heard your muffled whines and moans he was so used to. There was no way you were doing what he thought you were, right? God he prayed you weren’t, because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to keep his thoughts away from the gutter. He took a deep breath as he tried to keep all the blood on his body to move south of his waist, but god it was hard as he kept hearing your moans and whines and now your freaking curses!

He shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t carefully put his headset down. He shouldn’t carefully get up from the gaming chair. He shouldn’t carefully walk out of his room and open his door with the utmost care not to make a single sound as he walks towards your room. To the room where the whimpers were coming, whimpers that would hunt his dreams and were already straining his sweats. As he walked closer to your room, the sounds became clearer. All sounds.

Your door wasn’t open, but the breach that was between your door and the door frame was considerable enough to have him poke through. Enough to see your shaky legs, to see your hips jolting in the air as your dildo went in and out of you. The way your moans grew louder, were you… pleading? He could swear he heard you beg to let you cum, to beg for release as your other hand went down to play with your clit. The cries along with the sounds and the visual — even of half your body — were enough to make Yunho palm his crotch, holding back a moan but not the small whimper that left his lips at the friction.

“That’s it… yes,” you say after the whimper, you were still shaking, but your pace had increased, you were more vocal, were you not scared of him and Yeosang would listen? Of course not, Yeosang was out for the weekend and he was playing with his friends like he usually did… So did that mean you did that every single time on the same day and time? “Please, please, please, I’m so close, I’ve been good haven’t I?”

It was like you were talking to him, and god it took all his will power not to say something in return. It was like you knew he was there. It was like you were talking to him, but you couldn’t see him, could you? His hand made friction on his sweats as he held back a moan. At the sight of your shaky body, he knew you were close, close enough to probably not notice if he peaked through, right?

God he was a pervert.

How could he think that? How could he not think that?

The second his head peaked inside your room, his hand went down his pants. Shaky hands finding his hard leaking member, and this was all thanks to your whimpers, when he saw you, he could have come in sight if he didn’t have better control of himself. His hand quickly palmed himself through the sweat pants, he could feel the wet stain on his trousers, but you were a sight he wanted to drown into.

Your legs spread open, the dildo coming in and out of you as you were shaking in bed, your free hand on your clit as you tried your best to find release. Yunho’s hand quickly found its way inside his pants, as he bit his bottom lip keeping quiet, trying to mimic the movements he was seeing. In-Out, In-Out, faster, slower, In-Out… It was like you were doing it on purpose, edging yourself while edging him. Your moans grew louder along with your movements getting faster. Your legs closed momentarily and it took all in Yunho not to go there and spread them open, pushing your dildo out of the way and burying his fat leaking cock in your spent pussy.

As you shook uncontrollably, and quickly let out a loud cuss mixed with a moan, he knew you came, and he didn’t. He tried to finish, and the sight of you pulling out the dildo from inside you, your legs spread and you all exposed to him pushed him over the edge.

He let out a muffled moan.

When he saw you halting your movements, he quickly went to the hall, covering his own mouth as his hands moved faster along his shaft, if he closed his eyes he could see you once more, all spent and slightly fucked out in your bed. As he finally came, the wet patch grew considerably, his face growing hot as he heard movements in your room, making him rush towards his bedroom hoping you wouldn’t catch him.

As the door closed, he rested his back against it. His hand was sticky, his heart racing, his pants a considerable problem, but his mind…his mind was stuck in the image of you in your bed. If he was fucked before, he was even more now. The mere thought of what just happened made his cock twitch on his trousers. If he closed his eyes, he could see you laid bare on your bed, your pussy all wet and prepped for his cock to be buried deep in you, making you scream your lungs out his name, feeling your skin under his finger, having his finger buried in your pussy as he made out with your clit. He could feel your hands on his hair, pulling it away as you also moved because he was giving you too much pleasure.

He came once more.

He was definitely fucked.

He was avoiding you like the plague.

He knew it.

You knew it.

Yeosang knew it.

If you knew he had caught you, Yunho had no idea, but he did notice that you tried to talk to him, even if he tried his best to keep a distance between you two, or someone between you two. Trying his best to never be alone with you in any way possible. But you were a damn minx.

If he’d occasionally find your underwear in between the clothes, now it was outright in front of him. You didn’t even care to keep your door closed with your clothes drying in there. So technically you wouldn’t miss an underwear or two, right? Nor notice them suddenly appearing in your laundry day basket, definitely not. You wouldn’t even suspect since Yunho would clean them to the best of his abilities after he was done jerking off on them, or even while sniffing another one he got that still had your scent.

And of course, that wasn’t enough, you had to keep with your damn moans every single damn week. Making him change his gaming time, making him be the quietest little mouse going to get a treat of this mischievous little cat. He wasn’t in the wrong was he? You kept your door half-open, you kept your underwear scattered around, you kept your moans muffled but also loud, you kept changing positions in your room — bringing Yunho to the edge of insanity as he pictures these different positions and how his hands would explore your body —, you kept making a show, you kept begging, you kept giving him exactly what he wanted, except what he wanted the most.

You fucked out in his bed while he made sure you couldn’t walk for days, all marked from his hands and the hickeys he’d leave over your body, even if you weren’t his, you belonged to him, he’d mark you. He’d make sure everyone knew you were his, even if once, or twice, or as many times as he’d have you in his bed or on any possible surface.

“What’s up with you? It’s the second time you do laundry this week, you okay?” Yunho jumped slightly at your voice, trying to hide the stained pants from the night before when he saw you once more stuffing yourself with a useless dildo while he could— “Yunho? You okay?”

“Ah, ye-yeah, sorry, just a little… everywhere,” he said nervously, throwing a shirt over his laundry so you wouldn’t see the stained pants from the night before. “Also, Yeosang said he has this uni trip, are you going with him?”

“Oh, no, it’s for his own course,” you looked at Yunho confused, since Yeosang had mentioned during breakfast it was with his classmates and whatnot. “Yun, you sure you okay? You’ve been weird for quite a while now…”

Was he being that obvious? Could you see it was because of you?

“I’m fine just… a lot in my head, sorry…” He quickly averted eye contact with you, although your eyes kept observing him intently. “I should go back to my room I have—”

“What about your laundry?” You cut him off confused, pointing to the laundry basket in his arms.

“I’ll wash it later, there’s this shirt I wanna use later on for a party, if I wash it now I’ll probably use it and I’ll not wash only that shirt, Yeosang would kill me for wasting water like that…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle and nod. “I mean, true, but… You can always wash your clothes along with mine… I don’t mind it…”

Oh he knew how you didn’t mind, but he had to play a part. He couldn’t make it obvious he was spying on you almost every damn night, waiting for a tiny moan or a vibrating sound coming from your room, no, he definitely couldn’t. Yeosang would have his head and you’d probably call the cops on him for being a pervert.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” as if heavens had heard him, one of his friends called him, allowing him to be away from you as he started to feel his hard on growing at each second he spent beside you. “Sorry, Mingi is calling me, I have to take it, you know how he is…”

“Take the Princess Minki phone call, the last thing I want is him saying I’m keeping his best friend from him and stealing him like I stole Yeosang or whatnot.”

Both laughed as Yunho gave you a small smile and nod, picking up the call from Mingi and heading back to his bedroom, closing the door and trying to focus on what Mingi was saying and not on how much he wished he could pin you back to a wall and fucked you.

You had him.

You had him wrapped around your freaking unreachable delicious cunt.

Your walls were pressing around his cock as he hammered into you, his hand around your neck, the other slapping your breast as he heard your whines and pleas, he finally had you wrapped around his fingers, after so long of you having him. You cunt was squeezing his cock so much that he knew he’d have to do his best to control himself, he couldn’t cum so easily, no… He needed to see your eyes on the back of your head, your back arched, your hardened nipples to the ceiling as your breasts moved each time his cock got buried inside your cunt.

“Yunho, argh— please, please, please let me cum, please, Yun!”

He smirked, slowing down his movements, seeing you whine loudly and move your hips, only to have you stop as his free hand dug into your hips. As his cock slowly and tortuously entered your core, he lowered himself, lips almost touching…

And he woke up.

Sweat all over his body and precum leaking from his cock inside his pants.

“Fucking hell…”

It wasn’t the first time and definitely wouldn’t be the last that he would wake up from a wet dream with you in it, when he finally took you and buried himself in you, but he always woke up. All the damn time. His trousers were quickly tossed in the laundry basket, at this point he should probably sleep naked, it would definitely save him from a headache that Yeosang was gonna bring when the water bill arrives.

He had fallen into a routine.

He’d avoid you to the best of his abilities throughout the day.

He’d take longer showers after breakfast and dinner because you were always there with your sweet smile, concerned eyes, sassy attitude, mischievous personality… God, he wished he had never allowed Yeosang to take you in. You were the biggest temptation, acting like that in front of everyone, while begging to be fucked with a dildo or your fingers deep in your cunt every damn week, and all for Yunho’s ears to hear.

You were driving him insane.

As he finished his shower, he quickly put on another pair of pants, hoping no wet dream would come about for the rest of the night, that is… until he heard you. Not only heard you pleading, no… You were calling him.

He was definitely going insane. You wouldn’t call his name in the middle of the name, and definitely not in between muffled moans… Was he still dreaming? Was his mind so perverted to that point? He slowly and quietly left his room heading to yours — once again — half-opened door. The closer he got the clearer the words became. You were pleading. You were moaning. You had a damn vibrator stuck in your cunt once more.

But you were moaning his name.

As he stood by your door, your fingers were deep in your cunt, the wet sound along with your moans and his name coming from your mouth quickly made a tent show up in his trousers. If you were quiet you would hear his gulping along with the increase in his heart rate. You were calling for him, while stuffing your fingers in your sweet cunt, all spread open just waiting for him. It was an invite, it was clear, or was he reading too much into it?

“Yun, Yun please, I need your cock, please,” his cock twitched in his pants as his eyes was focused on your fingers inside your pussy, already working to spread you open. It was the chuckle that woke him up, making him look at you, finding you already looking at him with a smirk and hooded eyes, not stopping your movements, your fingers spreading you open as your eyes trailed down the tent in his pants. “Took you long enough, thought I’d have to moan louder to make you come around this time… were you playing your games with headphones? But I guess calling your name did the trick,” your other hand went down to your clit, circle movements along with your fingers making you bite your lip bucking your hips a little, looking back at Yunho. “C’mon, don’t be shy, I love to hear you at my door, Yun…”

His eyes widened, not for the fact you knew he was spying on you everytime you masturbated, but because you sounded like you… liked it. His cock twitched once more in his pants, your legs spreading wider as you saw him standing there, chuckling at his slight shocked expression. Your fingers stopped circling your clit, while your fingers inside you spread your labia open as you observed him. He was drooling and you were loving every second, finally being able to see how much he wanted you, how much he’d destroy you if he had the chance, just like you wanted, just like you planned.

“Y-you knew?”

“Of course I knew, or do you really think I’d be that reckless and lazy to leave my underwear everywhere, or… where you’d be able to see it?” Your smirked made something in Yunho switch. You truly had him around your fingers, you played him like a freaking violin, and he was curious to see what else your devilish mind could think as he started to walk closer to you. “Also, thanks for giving back all the underwear you took, I was scared I’d need to buy a few more, at least I’d buy a few more of the ones you liked.”

A smirk appeared on his lips.

He was willing to play your little game, if it meant he’d finally get what he wanted: you.

“So… you knew I was always at your door, and… you kept acting as if you knew nothing? Did you get it off on that?”

“As much as you did… or are we not gonna talk about the amount of pairs of pants you went through the last couple of weeks?” Your smirk widened, his eyebrows shot up. Of course you would’ve noticed. “But I meant it, I don’t mind washing your clothes along with mine… We’ve been doing that for quite a while now, have we not?”

“And you’ve been enjoying this little game, have you not?”

“Can’t say I’m not… but it’s getting tired, and my wrist needs a little break, I wouldn’t mind a helping hand, if you are offering…”

You kept looking at him as he got closer to his bed, his precum already staining part of his pants, his eyes trailing your body as you spread your legs open again, moving closer to the edge of the bed on the side he was. A small scoff came out of Yunho’s mouth as he saw your hand trailing closer to his pants playing with the string, while looking at him with fake innocence.

“Do you have any idea how much you tortured me these last few weeks?”

“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy it nor planned on how to punish me for it?” Your hips moved a little as your knee moved to touch his hand, it was always one of your favorite features of him, that and the little vein that would pop out of his neck when you teased him too much. “Or should I beg on my knees with your cock in my mouth while I milk you dry?”

His eyes darkened as a smirk appeared on his lips, lowering himself enough to have his right hand cup your face before tightening its grip on your jaw. “The only thing milking me dry is you cunt while I bread you, my pretty little slut.”

As your teeth sank on your bottom lip, Yunho’s left hand traced down your leg from your knee to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch, a smug smile took form on his lips as he tilted his head observing your reaction as his fingers got closer to your core, the tips tracing around it, but never touching. The grip on your jaw forcing you to look at him as the pads of his fingers traced every area from your inner thighs to your lower belly, to your labia, but never where you wanted them. Your hand moved to touch his cock through his trouser, making him groan, slapping your clit, making you moan but keep massaging his cock, making the stain of the precum spread a little.

“How about you put your fingers inside me, while you fuck my mouth? Would you like that, handsome?”

“Oh, we are resolving to flattery now… I see… and you think choking on my cock while I spread your pussy will make up for all these past weeks I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in you?” His fingers finally touched your clit, torturously circling the bundle of nerve, pitching it whenever you moved your hips trying to get more friction. “Are you gonna behave like a brat or as a good slut?”

“Says the perv that was jerking off to watch me for the past few weeks,” Yunho’s hand left your jaw slapping your face, before taking the grip once more, but before you could say anything, two fingers entered your already sensitive core, making you gasp. “Fuck— finally, oh yes!”

“Oh you look so pretty like this, my pretty little slut… but are you gonna be my good girl and listen, or be a brat and get punished?” Before you could answer, two of his fingers entered your mouth stopping you from speaking, as your tongue quickly moved around it, making Yunho smirk as his fingers curled inside you. “Free my cock, play with it a little, get an idea of what it’s gonna be inside your mouth in a bit, yes pretty?”

You nodded, choking out a moan as Yunho’s fingers curled inside you once more. Your hands quickly moved to pull his pants down, freeing his massive cock, making your eyes widen but your mouth water even more wanting him inside your mouth. Your hand quickly spread the precum, your thumb gently moving it around as you watched his reaction, smiling as you made sure to suck his fingers while clenching your walls around his other fingers, whining as he added a third one, spreading you even wider.

“Gotta fit in your pretty little pussy, hm? Or you think you can take my cock without prepping? I think you can, since how much of a good slut you are…”

He took his fingers out of your mouth, his fingers back into holding your jaw. “I can, I can take it, I want your cock Yun, please, I—,” another harsh slap as you felt his fingers leave your cunt making you jolt. “I’ll be good, sorry, I’ll be your good girl and be patient.”

His smirk widened as his fingers traced the outline of your labia just the first phalanges entering your core, making you whine and move your hips a little, giving you another pinch on your clit, making you cry out a moan.

“Be a good girl and stop moving so much, yes?” You nodded. “Since you don’t want to use your words, better use that mouth for something better, hm?” He pushed your hand away from his cock already smeared with the precum you carefully spread, his tip touching your lips as you quickly widened your mouth to fit him inside. “Fuck, even your mouth is perfect.”

Although all you wanted was to move your free hand down to your clit, you knew Yunho would probably punish you, not that you cared, but you wanted him, you wanted him inside. The more you teased and pushed his boundaries, the more he’d keep you away from cumming on his cock. Intead, your hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples as your head was too busy focusing on taking Yunho’s length, your hand helping you in the process, stopping a few times as you felt his fingers curling inside of you, or changing its movements rapidly. He was torturing you like you tortured him, and you were enjoying every second of it.

Saliva is already dripping from the corners of your mouth, your throat already hurting a little from the few times Yunho deep throated you. Your pussy was already read and super sensitive from the over stimulation of his fingers and the slaps he gave you when you misbehaved. You felt Yunho’s cock twitch more and more, you knew he was close, so you pushed him to the edge, you wanted his cock inside you. Your dildos weren’t enough, your fingers weren’t enough, his fingers weren’t enough, you needed his cock. You needed his cock buried inside you as you cried his name.

“Yunho please,” you begged once more as he took his cock away from your mouth, as his hand moved along his shaft. “I need your cock, I need your cock buried inside me, I want you to fuck me so much I can’t walk, I want you now, Yunho please, I’ll do whatever you want, just—”

He cut you off quickly manhandling you, making you stay on the edge of the bed as he spread your legs open, looking at your spent cunt all prepped and ready for him. His tip went over it, entering just a little to drive you crazy, but there wasn’t much you could do as he kept your legs apart and on the edge of the bed. Your hands going to your breasts, pinching your nipples as you watched Yunho’s cock disappear inside your cunt, little by little he drove you crazy. Didn’t matter if you pleaded, if you called his name, he was gonna take you in his way, and you were gonna let him and love it.

“Now breath for me, pretty,” he said calmly taking the half of his cock that was inside out, making you cry a moan once more, a smug grin appeared on his lips, as he shoved his cock fully inside you, making you gasp and scream, “I thought you said you could take me, and I prepped you well enough for my cock, yeah?”

He quickly pulled all his cock out, before you could even react if was fully inside again, and he repeated that a few more times before his hand that was previous on his shaft, move to your clit making circling movements as he kept burying himself deep into you and pulling all out. Your hand moved lower, holding his forearm, nails dug into his flesh and he knew he was pushing you too much and he himself was on the edge. His hand left your clit to meet your face, cupping it and caressing softly, his thumb going over your lower lip as his movements became gentle.

“I won’t break, you can be sweet the next time, I want you to break me,” your words made his eyes darken, as you smirked a little. “I want to see the real Yunho behind the Golden Retriever boy you show around, so fuck me senseless Yunho, please, I need it.”

“Your wish is my command, pretty.”

He didn’t move away from you.

His hand never left your face.

His other hand kept holding one of your legs open.

But his cock was hitting you on all the possible spots, making you cry and moan each time he hit the spot, at each angle it changed making you feel him differently whenever he impaled you.

“Look at me, I want you to look at me and say my name as I feel you squeezing me with that sweet little cunt of yours, yes?” You nodded, doing exactly as Yunho said. His movements became more erratic as you were holding back from closing your eyes. Your nails digging into the flesh of his arm and back. “Cum for me pretty, be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

“Yunho, please don’t— oh fuck!” Your high quickly found you as he kept pouncing into you searching for his own release, that it came as soon as you clenched a few more times around him while saying his name like a silent prayer. As his head lowered to find the crook of your neck, your body relaxed feeling happy with the weight of Yunho’s body on top of yours, like a warm soothing blanket. “Are you still angry at me?”

The vibration of his chest along with the breathing of his chuckle against your neck gave you goosebumps, but you chuckle softly as well, seeing Yunho lift his head to look at you. “Oh, I definitely am, but I promise I’ll be nicer the next few times… I just had this annoying brat pushing me over the edge for weeks and making me dream of her sweet cunt wrapped around my cock.”

“Oh, she seems the worst!”

“She can be, but I’m sure I can put her in her place, in more ways than one.”

general masterlist here ♡

network: @pirateeznet ♡ @cromernet ♡ @illusionnet ♡ @mirohs-aurora-society ♡

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARIZE OR REPURPOSE.

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cybergoth1 · 22 hours ago

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beyond the cowl | prologue | batfamily x isekaide!reader

masterlist | chapter 01.

summary: you're just a normal twenty-one-year old girl trying to navigate life with a shitty job and a useless degree. life isn't easy, and between expensive therapy sessions and the constant feeling of failure, you suddenly wake up in a body that wasn't yours, with a past that wasn't yours. now, in another dimension, you're dealing with the fact that you're a crucial part of the caped crusade that shaped bruce wayne's life. you're the second robin, the former girl wonder, and the vigilant gotham needed so much.

warnings: swearing. reader being emotionally immature bc we love toxic women. no beta we die like jason todd. reader really needs her lexapro. alfred being a sweetheart in the end (pls lets pretend bane never killed him).

Sometimes you felt like they had lied to you. Straight to your face. Your friends, your family and your professors.

They all made you believe that something important was out there, just waiting for you. They patted your back while you poured out your insecurities like the self-doubting idiot you are, and with the most convincing tone, told you that the world was your oyster. That opportunities are everywhere.

They said you shouldn't be that worried about getting a job. You still have plenty of time after graduating. Right?

Right.

Their nice words turned out to be useless the moment you stepped out of college. Your dreams and expectations were shattered during your first month sending out resumes to every single company and agency you could find. And then, before you knew it, eight months had passed without you landing a decent job. The endless rejection emails and mounting bills started to make you lose sleep as you spent countless nights tossing and turning in your single bed.

That’s why you ended up here, one year later, in a café downtown, learning the difference between a flat white and a cappuccino for a living.

You wiped down the counter for the sixth time in the past half hour, keeping an eye out for any trace of coffee left by the last customer when he spilled it all over your hands and apron. The feeling of the cloth under your fingers was the only thing grounding you as your thoughts began to spiral for the third time that day. You couldn’t even hear the annoying hiss of the espresso machine or your manager's high-pitched voice nagging at you about some shit you didn't care about.

You only lifted your head when a customer called you by your name. It was the same high school kid who always ordered a caramel macchiato. Mia or something. Your mind wandered as you pulled a shot of espresso for the new order.

You shouldn’t be here.

You shouldn't be pretending your lifetime dreams were nothing. You shouldn’t be pretending that you feel fulfilled cleaning counters and serving people who barely looked up at your face while you handed them their orders.

You heard Mia asking for extra vanilla syrup.

Shit, that was so unfair to you. You did everything right; every single thing they told you to do. You checked all the boxes.

You got a degree, unlike half of your family, who barely finished high school. You didn’t get knocked up at sixteen, unlike your mom and older sister, and you didn’t get addicted to fucking alcohol, unlike your dad. So why are you still living like this — paycheck to paycheck, unable to afford dental care, healthcare, or even the most basic stuff like a new pair of shoes.

Deep down, you know why.

Poverty is an eternal, miserable, and unbreakable cycle — you were just naïve enough to think you could overcome it with simple actions. You kept your eyes fixed on the tall iced latte in your hand while zoning out. Yeah, time for another therapy session.

“Here you go.” You tried to smile while handing her the cup. Hiding your growing anxiety and negative thoughts behind your customer service voice was a skill you were slowly, but surely, building up. But you probably looked weird as fuck since she gave you an awkward smile while muttering a "thanks.".

"I still don’t know how you got this job. You look like a psychopath," you heard Nate, your coworker, from behind you, holding an empty milk pitcher.

He would be a nice, solid dude if he didn't act like a middle school bully most of the time.

"Yeah?" You rolled your eyes, finally turning your body to look at him. Damn, he really needed to shave his sideburns; he looked ridiculous. "Want me to tell you what you look like?"

His red hair and weird face made him look like a distressed orangutan. A very ugly orangutan.

He just smirked at your sarcastic tone. Fucking cunt.

"Nah, I'm good.".

As the rest of the shift slowly passed, you kept checking your phone over and over, waiting for that email from the agency you applied to two weeks ago. You got nothing, as usual. Nothing besides a text from your sister asking for forty dollars; she probably ran out of baby formula again.

With a loud sigh, you decided to scroll through Instagram while Nate flirted with some customers. You quickly noticed that your college friend Christine had just been promoted again. She had been working at her father's company since her sophomore year, and her longtime boyfriend, Tom, had proposed to her in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Uh, wow, that's nice—good for her.

"Congrats, babe! Oh my god, he's so lucky to have you in his life. And good luck at your new job," you send her a quick DM, like a good friend would.

And you are, objectively, a good friend. You're even congratulating her on her promotion as if she weren't a spoiled, airheaded bitch who never accomplished anything on her own. Christine had everything handed to her on a silver platter; her parents got her an amazing job at their company, then paid for her boob job, her nose job, her new car, and her apartment—the list goes on.

You watched the couple showing off the engagement ring under the Parisian sunset and felt like the most self-absorbed cunt on Earth. At this point, you're used to feeling like that, at least twice a day. You spent the rest of your shift watching her stories over and over until it was time to close.

“I’m heading out,” you said to Nate as you finally grabbed your stuff from the break room. The city felt colder than usual that time of year; you could feel your lips getting chapped every time you stepped outside, so you quickly wrapped your old yellow scarf around your neck while zipping up your jacket. The café was already empty; the other employees had left fifteen minutes earlier, leaving just the two of you to close up.

Nate barely looked at you when you said goodbye to him.

You didn't care.

During your walk to the bus stop, you looked around the dark street pretending you’re not totally shitting yourself under the dim streetlights—holding your purse tightly against your frame, like you're about to be mugged by the thin air.

In those moments of raw vulnerability and panic, the whole idea of vigilantism seemed pretty cool. People in latex or spandex you don't actually know, jumping off buildings and beating up bad guys, defending the working class and pretty girls in distress. That's pretty neat, uh?

And very unrealistic.

Once inside the bus and comfortably seated, you let your thoughts wander again. You didn't know what you were doing with your life anymore. You never did, in fact.

The beauty of the night, the cold air coming from the bus's open windows, and the lights of the buildings dancing against the dark sky managed to soothe some of your pain for a few minutes. Your legs ached after hours of standing behind the counter, you felt burns on your hands, and your feet were uncomfortably squeezed into shoes that were a size too small.

Gradually, you fell asleep leaning against the bus seat, thinking about a nice pair of shoes you saw in the mall three days ago.

The first thing you noticed while slowly waking up was how comfortable you felt. The fabric beneath your body was as soft as silk, and the scent of fresh lavender emanating from it indicated that it had been recently washed—fuck, what is this? Heaven? You whined, shoving your whole face against it and breathing in.

Yeah, that’s definitely lavender—

Wait.

Public transportation didn’t smell like lavender, last time you checked. Your whole body went rigid as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

You immediately opened your eyes.

Fuck, fuck. What the fuck is happening?

You weren't on a bus anymore, that's for sure. Jesus, where's your purse?

“Fuck!” you almost screamed in pure panic as a painful sensation spread between your ribs and stomach, burning so much it seemed to take your breath away as you tried to sit up.

You were on a bed. A king-size bed. Sitting on silk sheets.

“Oh my god, someone kidnapped me—”

You looked around the bedroom as tears immediately filled your wide eyes. Your heart raced, and your hands trembled as you tried to make sense of the unfamiliar place you had woken up in.

The growing panic and fear for your life were so overwhelming that you couldn’t even notice the beautiful, very personal decor around the room or the several photos on the walls and desk, showing your face next to people you had never seen in your entire life.

"Oh, miss, thank God you're awake" a gentle voice said — is that a british accent? — close to the bedroom's door.

That's it, you're going to be killed by a weird, rich old man, and he's going to sell your organs on the black market.

Oh God, you quietly sobbed, you've always slept on the bus on your way back home, and you've never had any problems before—

Through the tears that blurred your vision, you could finally make out the figure of a tall man slowly approaching your bed. He was holding a cup of tea and a plate with what looked like a sandwich.

A cucumber sandwich.

"It seems like you may have hit your head quite hard. And your ribs," he said, handing you the cup and placing the plate on the desk next to the bed. The man sighed loudly. "Master Damian really needs to contain his enthusiasm during sparring sessions."

The cup shook in your left hand as you looked at him with tearful eyes. He politely pretended not to notice your desperate state or the tears in the corners of your eyes as he walked back to the door.

"Hey, Alfie, have you seen my white socks?" another voice called out, this time from the hall.

"They're still on your bedroom drawers, Master Dick."

"Oh, right, sorry."

Wait, that was Batman's butler or—

Your vision faded to black as you collapsed back onto the silk sheets.

tag-list: @rosescarlettx, @btsloveer07-blog, @rainbowstar, @xingyunny, @mikyapixie, @sheep-from-rad, @fandomly-obsessed, @migilore, @natsukicookies, @candlewitch-cryptic, @socialmess-jery, @mona1704, @dieforcoffee26, @stupouid, @astrelz, @dind1n, @cxcilla, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @ceridwyn3, @sunako50

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soobnara · 3 days ago

Text

like clockwork / c.sb

soobin x reader

summary: in a world where love is given an expiration date, you find your forever home in an unexpected place.

word count: 10.1k

tags: soulmate!au, best friends to lovers, mostly romance + fluff, fake dating if you squint, reader is afab w/ gender neutral pronouns + fem terms (noona) used

author's note: finally got around to finishing this... it's been a long while coming and i couldn't get myself to write for various reasons and i'm so happy it's all done and out there! (also for any black mirror fans out there, yes this is loosely based on the 'hang the dj' episode but way more lighthearted and with a dash of soulmate brainrot) hope you enjoy and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season <3

For as long as Soobin can remember, he’s been counting down the days.

To summer vacation, to the end of his shift at his part time job, to the start of a long awaited trip, to anything. But there’s something else that counts down on his behalf, something that he doesn’t particularly want to count.

That something is inlaid in a nondescript watch wrapped around his wrist. Everyone gets one once they turn 18, and as far as he’s concerned, its only purpose is to ruin relationships. The cruel hands of time assign a “best by” date to each romantic encounter, flashing on the screen from the first meeting, with each failure promising to lead the user closer and closer to their fated lover. If you ask Soobin, it’s all bullshit. How would a stupid watch know anything about fate, anyways?

It’s a typical Thursday night, and Soobin’s mindlessly scrolling through Time to Love, the government mandated dating app that all phones come with, as per usual when he can’t decide on something to watch. He has yet to meet the weekly two date quota, having only gone on one on Tuesday (important to note that he’s already forgotten his name), and he’s running out of time, and he really can’t afford to pay that 100,000 won fine this week. Well, he can’t afford to pay it at any point in time, but this week’s been especially rough on him, and he doesn’t want to shell out any more of his meager savings just because he couldn’t get a date, of all things.

The names and faces on his phone screen are a blur as his thumb swipes left aimlessly– he doesn’t really give that much of a shit who he ends up with, because at the end of the day, he’ll say “No” when the app asks him if he’d liked them and give them a terrible review saying they were incompatible, because frankly, the algorithm seems to always be wrong when it comes to his matches. Either that, or it’s because he cares so little that he doesn’t bother properly vetting his matches.

He’s resigned himself to his fate anyways; he’ll fill up his progress bar with a bunch of shitty matches until the algorithm decides it’s time for him to settle down, then when he finds his “soulmate” (if you could even call it that), he’ll just be doomed to a loveless arranged marriage set in place by a computer and die unhappy. He can’t envision happiness ever coming out of something so lifeless, so cold, so that’s just how it has to be. At least it gives him something to do instead of rewatching the same three anime series over and over again.

Whatever– he’ll just swipe right on the next person and go on yet another unmemorable date tomorrow. Lee Saerom, the profile reads. She’s exceptionally pretty, he has to admit, and she’s an artist, (and she’s older, but don’t ask him about that) so he’ll just ask her about her work and let her ramble for the allotted two hours while he smiles and nods.

He swipes right, and a bright pink heart pattern fills his screen, signifying a successful match. Obnoxious. It’s replaced with a time and a place, and he lets out a groan. Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 6pm, at the Coffee Shop. He was supposed to meet you at 7 tomorrow for your usual Friday night updates.

Fuck. What if the date goes on longer than an hour?

He’s never been late for your weekly meetups, but he figures you’ll understand, since it’s completely out of his control.

Surely you won’t kill him, right?

Just in case, he recites a prayer to himself before he tucks in for the night.

You’re already nursing your third vodka soda of the night and Soobin is still nowhere to be found, which is unusual. He’s never been the most punctual person, but standing you up for an hour after your usual meeting time isn’t like him, either. He said he’d be late, but he didn’t specify how late… you’ll grill him later when he explains himself, and you’ll make him buy you a drink or two as compensation. With the comfort of a free drink in mind, you’re about to order your fourth round when Soobin finally stumbles in through the door of the bar, eyes scanning each booth until his gaze lands on you, and with an apologetic smile, he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

He gestures to your glass, brow curled upwards, which you know means he’s teasing you. “What number is this one, noona? You always polish these things off like they’re nothing.”

“This is number three, with number four on the way, and that’s because they are. You owe me at least two for taking so long to get here, asshole.” You let out an indignant huff as you slurp the last of the cocktail through your straw, lips jutting in a comical pout.

“Okay, okay. Next one’s on me.” Soobin relents with an endeared laugh, waving down the waitstaff and ordering a beer for himself, along with another vodka soda for you.

“Okay, now spill.”

“What? Am I supposed to have some hot gossip for you? Don’t make me guess about what drama I’ve somehow found myself in on accident.” He’s visibly confused, brows knitted together, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Obviously the only reason you would ever skip out on your dear noona was if TTL scheduled you for a date during our usual time, so spill. How bad was this one?”

His lips part in understanding, (you can practically see the figurative lightbulb flickering on) head bobbing in an exaggerated nod before pulling his phone out, hand outstretched to show you his date’s profile. “I mean, she was okay, I guess. Pretty girl, and she was older, but she spent the entirety of our time slot babbling about her latest art project and how it’s supposedly going to blow away the industry. Which is fine, I guess, because you know I hate talking on these dates, but if she said “brush technique” and “negative space” one more time I think I would’ve tried to drown myself in my caffe mocha. The app thought so too, I guess, because when we checked our expiration date, it was exactly an hour from the start time, so it’s not like I missed out on my forever soulmate or whatever.”

Each TTL date is scheduled for an arbitrary amount of time, depending on your expiration date, which is determined from the first moment you meet– sometimes it’s just a few minutes, an hour or two, and anything longer than 24 hours is given a two hour time slot maximum. There’s supposedly an extremely rare case where you aren’t given an expiration date from the get go, regardless of your progress, meaning that you’ve found your soulmate by sheer luck, but it’s almost unheard of– most people don’t find their soulmates until they’ve completely filled up their bars, something about needing ample data to calculate optimal compatibility.

You ogle at his phone screen for a bit– she really was stunning– then guffaw at the thought of Soobin nodding halfheartedly, listening to a pretty girl talk his ear off, when most men would probably kill to be in his position. “Damn, if even an older woman that pretty can’t hold your attention, and the app confirms that, you know it’s bad… So, where does that put your progress at? Weren’t you at like, 80% last week?”

Soobin’s face practically scrunches in on itself at your remark, tapping the app once more to check his updated progress bar. “I’m going to ignore that. I’m at… 88% after I reviewed Saerom and that guy from earlier in the week. Guess it wasn’t a total waste if I got 8% closer to completion. What are you at now?”

You lift your phone to open TTL, your progress bar only having inched 2% closer to completion after your date yesterday. “75% now. I think the algorithm is personally fucking me over, or something. My last few matches have been nice enough, but I cannot keep up with their energy. It’s wringing me dry. I must be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want a golden retriever for a partner. My date yesterday just about knocked me out for good, he was that energetic.”

“Tell me about it,” Soobin commiserates. “I’ve very clearly expressed my distaste for bubbly and talkative people who probably peaked in high school, but that’s all they’re spitting out in my for you page. No offense to them, I don’t think I’ve met any straight up assholes since that one girl from last year, but it’s like the app is purposely recommending the most incompatible people to me– wait, yesterday? And I didn’t hear about this?”

You give him a pointed look, silently conveying that he also didn’t inform you of his date today until ten minutes ago. He gets the message and holds his hands up in defeat, then gestures for you to speak, dimples peeking out as he purses his lips. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you recall the most chaotic two hours of the week, maybe even your life.

“Okay, look… for the record, he was very nice to me, a perfect gentleman, but my god, could that guy talk. He was practically falling at his knees trying to impress me, which would’ve earned him a few points in my book, but his mouth was moving maybe five miles a minute at all times without a moment of rest. It was like watching a child hopped up on sugar, to be honest. He talked for forty whole minutes nonstop about pizza. Don’t even get me started on how passionate he was about his workout routine.”

Your drinks finally come around, and Soobin hands you your frosted glass, which you gratefully take a long sip out of before continuing. “And before you say anything, no, he was nothing like Kai. Also, Kai is literally like my child, and just because I babysat him all those years does not mean I want to date someone like him.”

Soobin parts his lips to respond, then scrunches his nose in distaste as you take the words right of his mouth, opting to down his drink instead. “You’re no fun.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Sure, noona, sure.”

“That’s it, asshole, you owe me another drink.”

Sunday rolls around, which means you’ve got to start scoping out this week’s dates– you hate leaving anything to the last minute, and you like to leave the end of your week as free as possible (no one is prying your precious rest time from you, not even a beautiful person with the world’s best personality).

Which means you’re mindlessly swiping through a sea of profiles, hoping you find someone that’s at least remotely interesting. You’re prepared for a long night of doom scrolling, but you stop cold in your tracks as you come across a familiar name and face, and a lump forms in your throat.

Choi Soobin.

The algorithm is really fucking with you now. It has to be. You’ve never once even considered your best friend as a potential suitor, not because he isn’t insanely attractive and charming (and funny, and easy to talk to, and…), but because he’s your best friend. You’ve known him for so long, you’ve seen him cry when he couldn’t get the Pokemon card he wanted when he was young enough to need allowance to buy it, and he’s seen you for long enough to know you threw the nastiest toddler tantrums over being denied an ice cream purchase– the point is that you know him a little too well, and you know from experience that that’s not always ideal in romance.

But you have been having terrible luck with your matches for so long, and two hours of Soobin’s undivided attention doesn’t seem so bad, and it would be a good time, at least…

You kick yourself mentally for even thinking of it. He’s your best friend, for god’s sake.

Yet your thumb continues to hover over his profile, quivering as you make the motion to swipe right on him without touching the screen. The guilt and the risk of maybe ruining your friendship forever clearly isn’t enough to stop you from considering him.

The gentle, familiar smile that he’s sporting in his profile picture pierces your heart, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’ve always had a thing for him unconsciously, maybe you just want someone who actually gets you, maybe you’re just running out of options. Or maybe you’re just tired of chasing after something you know is futile, and you want to take a chance on something, on someone, that might actually be good for you. On someone that you know would be good to you, and for you.

And so, with bated breath, you swipe right.

[Time to Love: Y/N has liked you! Open the app for more details.]

To say Soobin is struck with disbelief would be an understatement. He’s practically gaping at his phone, and he knows you’d be laughing your ass off and making fun of him if you could see him. But it’s precisely that typical flippant attitude of yours that’s got him perplexed about this development.

He’d be lying if he said he’s never once thought of you that way– he’s always thought you were pretty and kind hearted, despite your temper, and you’ve always been there for him, through thick and thin, even when he was being kind of a dick. That definitely counts for something. But he’s never thought about crossing that boundary, because 1) he’s not allowed to pursue anyone he doesn’t match with through the app anyways, and 2) matching with you could make or break your bond forever (he’s leaning towards break, though, because like he said, the watch is bullshit). In short, he’s a fucking coward and a little too cynical for his own good.

But here it is, an opportunity for a date with you, in all its glory, and initiated by you, no less. He should be celebrating, or at least hyped up, because maybe it’ll all work out, maybe this is the solution to all his lukewarm matches over the last few months, but instead he’s downright terrified. There’s absolutely no way that you both come out of this unscathed. There’s no such thing as a perfect forever if it’s decided by a computer. There can’t possibly be a happy ending at the end of this road.

He shakes his head, as if it would clear his head of the panicked thoughts. You’re still his best friend, at the end of the day, he tells himself, and he’s sure that you’ll fight just as hard as he will to keep him in your life. So he holds onto the tiniest sliver of hope that somehow your relationship doesn’t crash and burn spectacularly, opens the app, and swipes right on you.

Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 3pm, at the Aquarium.

A new notification pops up. Soobin’s heart stirs.

y/n noona: see you tomorrow ♥️

He feels guilty as a wave of excitement washes over him. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. You’re his best friend. His dear noona. He may as well be signing away your friendship for good. But it’d be worse if he didn’t match your enthusiasm.

soob: yup, see you tomorrow noona :]

It’s only 5 minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and already Soobin’s panicking that you’ve changed your mind and cancelled on him, writing this off as a mistake. He’s trying his very best to remain nonchalant, it’s just a date with his best friend, who he might have a sapling of a crush on, no big deal, right? Or maybe it is for the best if you cancel, then he’d have one less crippling fear to worry about.

He’s rethinking his outfit for the umpteenth time– he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, not in front of you because you’d probably think it was silly, but he also doesn’t want you thinking he shows up to dates looking like a slob. (For the record, he thinks he’s got a decent sense of fashion. He’s better than Kai, at least, though that isn’t saying much.) He’s internally debating if he should’ve gone with the navy polo shirt instead of the grey cardigan draped over his shoulders, or if he should’ve gone with the black slacks instead of the light wash jeans, but his jumbled thoughts dissipate as you tap on his shoulder, shit-eating grin and all.

“What’s with you, Soob? You look like the fate of the universe depends on you, and you only have 5 minutes to save all of humanity.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against his. Oh, if only you knew what was really weighing on him.

He has half a mind to swat your shoulder, but he’s a little too aware that the two of you are supposed to be on a date, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets. To his surprise, you’re more dressed up than usual, (he’s used to seeing you exclusively in oversized hoodies) and– wait, you two are practically matching, from the grey cardigan, light wash jeans, all the way down to the white sneakers. The only difference is that you’ve buttoned up your cardigan so that it functions more as a blouse, but you two clearly have definitely mastered the art of accidental couple looks.

“Okay, awkward… one of us has to change.” He teases in an attempt to ease his own racing mind, dimples peeking out as he stifles a laugh. You let out an indignant huff, pushing his massive frame with no success. He doesn’t even budge.

“Not my fault that you’re trying to steal my look. I wore it better, by the way,” You retort, but truth be told, you’re reeling at the sight of him. You’ve only ever seen him in his stuffy work attire and the worn-out, faded shirts he refuses to throw out, and seeing him in a comparably softer, more preppy look is making you see him with new eyes.

You shake your head, as if doing so will reset your perspective to factory settings and make you see him as just your best friend again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Soobin is still handsome and he looks very cute, and you’re still very much affected by it.) “Okay, so. First things first. Should we check our apps? To see if, like, we’re compatible, or I don’t know.” Your voice is stiff, like you’re buffering, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this awkward around Soobin, at least not since the day you met.

Soobin turns up his nose in disagreement and covers his watch screen and yours. “Nah, that’s bullshit. It’s already all decided, isn’t it? It’s been decided from the second we stepped into the aquarium. No point in checking now, we should decide for ourselves if this is something we want to pursue, instead of letting some computer dictate that. When it’s over, it’s over, and we can just go back to being friends, right?”

“Well, I think it’s probably better to know when to give this a rest, instead of constantly wondering if my best friend is set to be my long-term romantic partner, or whatever.” You had a point. But a part of Soobin didn’t feel ready to face the fact that you might not want to see him again like this. A much smaller part of him is still fearful that you two might not be able to turn back from this.

“Okay, okay, fine. We can check it–but not now. If we make it to a third date, then we can check how long we have. But you have to be honest and not touch it whatsoever.” Soobin doesn’t make any move to mention that he isn’t interested in seeing you again, but you don’t want to just assume that he’s into you, so you test the waters.

“Okay, I promise to be honest. But why the third date? Are you really that keen on seeing me?” You’re trying to be teasing, but you feel more desperate than anything.

Soobin doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to apologize, he replies, “If we make it to a third date… then I’ll know whether we’re actually giving this a proper shot and not just for shits and giggles or as an escape from our other failed connections.”

His sincerity both surprises and flatters you, and you can’t tell if you’re supposed to be frozen in shock or hugging him, or a secret third thing, so you just stay still, absently fiddling with your fingers.

When you look up again, Soobin’s holding out his hand, and you look at him with obvious confusion. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand in his, lips pursed into a thin line. You want to make some clever jab at him, but his hands are warm and soft and they practically swallow up your much smaller ones, and you’re filled with a wash of emotions so intense that you can’t muster up the strength to retort.

Soobin notices that you’re still visibly perplexed, and he mutters. “We’re on a date, you know. We’ve got to act the part.” It’s a half truth at best; he does want to give this date a proper chance, but selfishly, he really just wants to hold your hand for two hours. If you catch onto his white lie, you don’t show it, but he doesn’t miss the rosy hue that colors your cheeks as you nod.

He’s right, you think– it is a date, and you’re the one who swiped on him first, so the least you can do is treat him like a possible suitor and not just your best friend. He deserves that much, at least, and you need to know whether this bundle of butterflies in your stomach is a passing feeling or a dull ache you’ve forgotten about, so you let him lead you into the dimly lit array of fish tanks.

You’re noticing a lot of things about Soobin.

You notice that Soobin’s eyes practically twinkle when he gets excited. It’s never been something you’ve taken note of, but you can’t help but notice it now, every time he points out a species of fish he recognizes. It’s cute. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to find your best friend cute, but you do.

You notice how his comically long fingers slot in between yours, and you’re really starting to like how it feels, though you’d die of embarrassment if you admitted as much.

Not to mention he’s an absolutely perfect gentleman. He’s constantly asking you if you want something to eat, if you’re tired, if you’re cold, and you let him know that you’re fine each time. When you accidentally pull apart your shoelaces, he’s quick to kneel down and tie them up for you. When he stops to grab himself a bottle of juice, he offers one to you, too.

Had Soobin always been this pretty? So cute? And so sweet? How had you never taken notice of him like this all these years? (You know the answer to that, but you’re still surprised at what you’re noticing nonetheless.)

Soobin catches you staring at him while you’re both supposed to be looking at a school of clownfish, and you expect him to make some egotistical joke at your expense, but instead he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, and god dammit to hell, you melt.

The two hours pass by like nothing, and unlike your past few dates, you’re dreading the end of it, and you wish that the beep signifying it’s over would never come. To your disappointment, he releases your hand as you approach the entrance, and your hand is already missing his warmth. You turn to face him; well, not really, because you can’t bear to make eye contact with him, not when you spent the better part of two hours shamelessly ogling at him.

His voice cuts in between the thoughts rattling around in your head, and he sounds so apprehensive that it worries you. “Can I ask you something? No, wait, can you promise me something?”

You know how seriously Soobin takes his promises, so you’re a little scared for what he’s going to say next, but you nod anyway.

“Promise me that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends. Please.” The last word is so quiet that you almost miss it, and when you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, he’s giving you a pleading look so earnestly that it breaks your heart a little.

“I promise– no, I pinky promise. We’ll be friends, no matter what.”

Since he was younger, Soobin’s held the belief that pinky promises are binding, and he knows that you know this, so you hold out your pinky, hoping that this can ease whatever worries he has on his mind.

You pinky promised. Soobin knows that it’s your unspoken way of assuring him (you’ve never been the most verbally affectionate, anyways), a quiet way of letting him know that he means just as much to you as you do to him. He links pinkies with you to seal the promise, feeling just a little bit lighter as you both make your way to the subway station together, shoulders bumping all the while.

Soobin just really, really hopes that you’ll be able to keep that promise.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 8pm tonight, at the Night Market.

You shouldn’t be surprised that your next date with Soobin comes so soon– you still have your weekly quotas to meet, and the app always schedules dates within 24 hours of matching or a positive rating, but truth be told, your surprise is solely because you just don’t know how to face him. You two had made that pinky promise to stay friends regardless of the circumstances, but you’d also resolved to treat him like a potential suitor while you two are seeing each other, so where does that leave you?

Well, it leaves you in front of the closet with no idea what to wear. You want to look good (for Soobin, but you’re in denial at the moment), but it’s just a night market, and you know you’ll never hear the end of it if Soobin catches on that you went through lengths just to impress him.

Speaking of the devil, your phone flickers on to reveal a text from him, and you scoff as you scan its contents.

soob: so i hear you enjoyed our date

y/n noona: ignoring that. anyways

y/n noona: what’s the deal for tonight

y/n noona: i need to know asap

soob: aw, noona, do you want to see me again that badly? i’m excited, see you later tonight ♥️

y/n noona: shut up, you clearly want to see me again too. don’t be late or i’m stealing your wallet later

y/n noona: i'm asking what’s the dress code, are we matching again :p

soob: i mean, if you insist… 🙄 i knew you wanted me

y/n noona: nvm you’re getting me in a hoodie and my raggedy sweats with the hole in the knee, fuck you

soob: no no i take it back i’m sorry

y/n noona: ok fine you get spared just this once

y/n noona: [IMG_3687.jpg]

y/n noona: final outfit check. if we’re going to be matching it will be your decision so choose wisely

soob: wait that’s not fair

soob: noona come back

soob: DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS

[y/n noona has “Liked” your message]

soob: you are so mean to me

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when Soobin arrives, clad in a blue flannel that’s nearly identical to yours, black tee, beige cargos, and a black shoulder bag. You’d been hoping he would follow through, and there’s a small surge of pride at how you’ll be walking around the market, hand in hand, in matching outfits, but there’s something you hadn’t been counting on.

He’s wearing his glasses.

You’ve always known that Soobin doesn’t have the best eyesight (he’s constantly squinting to see things, but so do you), but now that you’re seeing him in a new light, his usual black frames are suddenly the most attractive thing in the world, and you may as well be holding a neon sign that blares “I HEART NERDS” for him to see.

You make a painfully pathetic attempt to mask your delight by waving at him with a grin, and thankfully Soobin doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t make any show of it, and instead he simply salutes at you with two fingers and cracks a grin. As he sidles up to you, his large hand slips into yours with a little too much ease, fingers immediately interlocking with yours, and it sends your head into a frenzy all over again. As if he’s aware that your mind is going haywire, Soobin leans down towards you, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you.

You’re frantically trying to make some motion to stop him, it’s so sudden and your cheeks are way too hot now, and he’s way too close, and your damn arms won’t budge–

“I hope you came ready to eat. I came armed with a fuck load of cash because I am going to stuff myself silly with food, and I am not getting turned away by the ‘cash only’ booths.” There’s a fire of determination in Soobin’s eyes, paired with a wide grin, and you don’t know whether to be concerned for him or for yourself, but nonetheless, you’re a little relieved that you completely misread the situation. Before you can say anything in response, though, he’s dragging you towards the sweeping lines of booths, already making a beeline for some takoyaki.

The tray full of octopus balls in Soobin’s hands is steaming and they smell absolutely mouthwatering, and, in true Soobin fashion, he gets over excited and tries to pop the entire thing in his mouth in one go. He immediately regrets it, of course, because immediately he’s whining over the fact that his tongue is now most definitely burnt and numb from the piping hot orb of batter he’d just tried to scarf down. You might be finding him insanely attractive now, but he’s still as clumsy as ever, and you can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles in your throat at the sight.

“Dumbass… you should know damn well that you shouldn’t put a whole takoyaki in your mouth like that.” You tease, snickering as he fans his tongue once he swallows.

“Shut up! I couldn’t help myself!” He lets out a childish huff, stuffing another ball into his mouth with a comically exaggerated pout, and consequently huffing and puffing at the heat that blooms in his mouth once more. The whole display is undeniably adorable, and it takes all of the willpower you have to resist the burning desire to squish his cheeks.

The tray of takoyaki is polished off in no time, and a bowl of bingsu, a cup of fish cake soup, two sticks of tanghulu, a plate of sweet rice cakes, an ice cream cone, and a million other things you lost track of follow suit into the bottomless pit that seems to be Soobin’s stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came ready to eat– he’s plowing through the booths like it’s his last meal on Earth. He’s gracious enough to offer you half of his portions, at least, so it’s not like he’s leaving you to starve. (you’d kill him if he did, though.) Once he’s had his fill, his lips curl up into a mischievous grin as he jabs his thumb in the direction of a different section of the market, one filled with countless games: target shooting, beanbag toss, darts– the row of booths seems to stretch on forever.

“Oh, you’re on, Soob. Don’t think I’m going easy on you because we’re on a date.”

“Yeah? Don’t think I’m going easy on you because you’re older.”

Contrary to both of your words, Soobin is absolutely fucking terrible at the beanbag toss, despite his long arms definitely giving him an advantage, and you’re no good at shooting or throwing and aiming at anything, really, so the two of you leave each booth with empty hands, though you’re laughing as if you’ve hit the jackpot.

Even though you two fail spectacularly at every single game they have available, you’re suddenly aware of how much your cheeks hurt. From smiling. From laughing. When was the last time that happened on a date? Or ever, even?

Soobin ventures off on his own while you’re lost in thought, and he returns from his little solo adventure with yet another serving of tanghulu (the third one of the night: strawberry for him, tangerine for you this time). You’re reaching out to grab the sweet from his outstretched hand, when suddenly you jump as loud popping sounds blare overhead. There’s a beat of silence before a flurry of colorful lights blooms in the sky, and your shoulders relax once you realize it’s just fireworks.

You’re admiring the colors and shapes of the fireworks display as you crunch on your tanghulu, and you’re so enraptured you almost miss the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. Almost.

When you turn to confirm your suspicions, you’re right, it’s Soobin who’s staring at you, but he’s staring at you so intently, with such intensity, that you immediately grow flustered– he’s never looked at you like that before– and you’re immensely thankful that the flashes of light in the sky mask the rosy hue that’s surely staining your cheeks. Just when you’re about to swing your head away to focus your attention on the fireworks once more, his hand flies out to cradle your chin in his palm, keeping your gaze fixated on him.

Then he’s closing the distance, slowly but surely, fixated on you all the while to gauge your reaction, and even though you’re frozen in shock, you don’t think you would’ve moved, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut at the last minute, nerves getting the better of you, until his lips brush against yours tentatively, as if he’s hesitating, holding back.

You meet his gaze once more, and neither of you say a word, you just nod in response to the pleading look in his eyes, as if asking your permission. He breaks out into the most beautiful smile, one that you wish you could snap a mental photo of and tuck away in a safe place in your mind, and then he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you.

He kisses you with such fervor, as if he’s been wanting to do this his whole life, and you can’t help the way you practically melt in his hold, pressing yourself against his broad figure. The fireworks display is all but forgotten, the only thing on either of your minds being the way your lips meld into each other, and the way your hands clasp together.

Soobin’s in a daze when you two finally break away for a much-needed breath, and you’re sure you look like you’re in an equally hazy state. For a moment, you two are dead silent, staring at each other, with only the sound of your soft pants and the popping of fireworks in the background to fill the silence.

Soobin is the one who breaks the silence first, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and you can feel your jaw go slack in shock. Soobin had been wanting to kiss you. Soobin has thought about kissing you. Your best friend Soobin wanted to kiss you.

“Why didn’t you?” You reply without thinking, but really, you know very well exactly why he’s never done it. He’s your best friend, always has been, and he’d be doing much more than fucking up your friendship by kissing you before you two matched. Naturally, Soobin leaves that question unanswered, posing a question of his own instead.

“What made you match with me?”

“Well…” You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to rattle off a list of qualities that make him desirable– you’re already feeling flustered enough after he kissed you like that, and you’re not looking to inflate his stupid ego or risk being the butt of his teasing. But you want to be honest with him. You don’t want him thinking his suppressed desire has been one-sided all this time.

“I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you. We wouldn’t be bored, we would know how to keep each other happy, and understand each other, that kind of thing… and I was a little tired of seeing you go through all those people you didn’t click with, who didn’t get you, especially not the way I did. You know I’ve never liked the people you were seeing, and I was always annoyed by the idiots you dated in high school, and all your stupid matches… I always thought everyone took you for granted, and no one seemed to care about actually getting to know you. I thought I was just looking out for you, caring about you, as your best friend, but maybe I was actually just jealous.”

“Jealous? Really?” He looks so incredulous it embarrasses you that you have to clarify further.

“Yes, jealous… I especially hated what’s-her-name, Hyeji? That one student council girl who dumped you in front of the whole school.”

Soobin grimaces at the mention of her name, and you can’t help the relief you feel at his response. “Ugh, her. Led me on for months because she thought I was cute and then when we started dating she nitpicked every single thing I did, all because I wasn’t the suave drama lead of her dreams and then dumped me because she couldn’t change me. You know she threw away a whole pack of my Pokemon cards because she thought it was ‘too nerdy’?”

“See? This is what I mean. None of your romantic partners actually seem to appreciate you as you are. And so I don’t know, something came over me, and I wanted to see if I could do a good job because I know I appreciate you for who you are and now I’m confused, and I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship forever, and–”

To your relief, Soobin doesn’t laugh– instead he cuts your rambling off with a quick kiss, and it flusters you into silence. “Shh. We promised, remember?”

“I mean, we also promised each other when we were in high school that we’d settle down and raise ten dogs on a farm together.”

Soobin laughs this time. “Yeah, I remember that. But this is a pinky promise, isn’t it? It’s different.”

“You’re right… but it’s scary, you know? Coming to this realization about you, and thinking about you this way, and enjoying it, but also worrying about how we’re going to get out of this after our relationship expires... I don’t want to get too carried away and change our dynamic forever.” You’re chewing the skin off your lower lip nervously (you never did break that habit, so now your lip is bleeding), and, while Soobin’s voice is gentle, you know him well enough to detect the subtle tremor as he speaks.

“I know. But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything remove you from my life for good. Especially not the watch.” His voice is so low, so quiet, you’d miss it if you weren’t fixated on him, as if he’s trying to convince himself, and you squeeze his hand in what you hope is an admirable attempt at reassuring him. “The app hasn’t told us our connection’s expired yet, so I just really, really want to give this a chance. A proper chance, so I can say I did it before I get matched with my ‘real’ soulmate, or whatever. I don’t want to think about what could have been, especially not with you. I think that’d be worse for us.”

You know exactly what he means. Harboring dormant feelings for your best friend never bodes well, at least not in the movies and the books, so you may as well get this pining out of your system, and let it become a distant memory as soon as possible, if it’s not meant to be. It’s only fair, for both of your futures, and for your friendship. (and though neither of you want to admit it, the thought of not being each other’s soulmates is depressing.)

“Look, Soob… I really want to give this a chance, too. I want to see where it takes us while we’re allowed to. I want to try. It’s scary, it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re my best friend, Soob. I promise you won’t lose me because of some stupid watch. Pinky promise.” You try to keep your voice upbeat as you hold out your pinky towards him, offering a tender smile. He links his pinky with yours, and you can see his frame visibly relax once he does.

You rest your head on his shoulder, pinkies still linked, and silently hope that you’ll be able to uphold your promise to him. You’ve never been any good with breakups. Soobin knows that.

But you’ll be okay with him, right?

He’s your best friend, after all.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

…

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 2pm tomorrow, at the Botanical Gardens.

Soobin decided on his own that he’s picking you up for the third date, and he let you know as much. After last night’s events though, this means that you’re turning your entire closet upside down trying to find the sweet spot for your look today, because your head is jumbled with far too many thoughts, all of them about Soobin. Every outfit you think up is either too dressy, or too casual, or too out there, or too bland, and you have half a mind to reschedule with your mind in the state that it is. Unfortunately for you, Soobin is already on his way, and you’re not the type of asshole to tell him to head back home and forget the whole date, so you just stare at your pile of clothes on the floor, hoping that somehow you’ll be enlightened with the perfect outfit idea and get yourself looking presentable before he comes knocking.

The universe is clearly not on your side, though, because your doorbell rings not even a minute later, and all you’ve picked out is your jeans and you’re still very much topless. You shoot a message to Soobin, thumbs flying frantically as you let him know you’re not quite ready yet– he might be your best friend in the entire world, but you’re not ready for him to see you under your clothes just yet, especially now that you’re properly seeing each other.

You’re still not sure what to wear, but you figure a beige knit sweater should be safe– you won’t look like you’re trying too hard, but you also won’t look like you’re not trying at all. When you swing the door open to finally greet Soobin, your breath quite literally gets taken away, because he trips and almost knocks you over with his lanky frame, but also, he’s breathtaking.

He’s clearly put a lot of thought into his outfit, which is very cute, and he looks absolutely stunning. A sleek black cardigan with white striped accents on the sleeve, a white dress shirt that clearly looks freshly pressed– hell, he’s even wearing a tie– and those godforsaken glasses that have you in a chokehold somehow. You don’t even bother hiding your delight– he’s so beautiful, and you know he needs a little validation after he probably spent hours putting his look together.

He catches you staring wordlessly, and he flushes with embarrassment.“What? Too much? I knew I should have skipped on the tie–” He grumbles, making a move to loosen it, but he’s stopped by your hand over his.

“No. You look great, Soob. Seriously.” You’re not used to being verbally affectionate, especially not with him, but when he looks that sad, like a kicked puppy, you know better than to tease him when he’s unsure of himself. Despite that, you’re still shy as you reassure him. “You look beautiful.”

The way he brightens when he hears your words is almost cartoonish, and this time, you can’t hold back your laughter, which earns a pout from him, which in turn only fuels your laughter further. You appease him by lacing your fingers with his (he’s apparently a lot easier to please than you remember, but maybe that’s your imagination), and he responds by placing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is tender and sweet, and you think about what it’d be like to have Soobin do that to you every day.

“Well, shall we?” He bows exaggeratedly with his free arm, giving you a blinding smile.

You mirror his smile, and playfully curtsy in return. “We shall.”

When you two arrive at the botanical gardens, it’s jam-packed with people (a worker explains that their tulips are in full bloom, so everyone’s vying for their social media moment), and Soobin is visibly startled, though he recovers quickly as he turns to you.

“You okay? There’s so many people... I think this is twice, maybe even thrice as many people as there were at the night market.” You don’t do well with crowds, the crowd at the night market was probably the most you could handle, but you know that you don’t have a choice– you have to follow through with the date as scheduled, or risk a fine that neither of you can afford, so you just nod, your grip on his hand tightening.

Soobin somehow finds a slightly less crowded area of the tulip fields for you two to stroll in after doing a quick sweep (thank god for his height, and that he uses it to his advantage), but you still feel tense as you walk hand in hand. There’s still a decent amount of people, with more spilling in excitedly, phone cameras in hand, and you have a bad feeling the crowd will only grow in size as the day drags on. You just hope you’re as convincing an actress as you think you are, and that Soobin won’t notice as he reads the identification cards for each flower.

You’re caught off guard when he gently pushes you down onto a nearby bench, and crouches in front of you, clasping your other hand in his so that both of them are occupied. The concerned expression on his face tells you that you’re nowhere near an Oscar for your performance, and that he’s most definitely caught on to your discomfort. Normally you’d be embarrassed at the display– you hate making a scene in public, but your anxiety is getting the better of you, and it’s nice to know that he still knows you as well as you thought.

“Noona… look. I know you don’t like crowds, especially excitable and hectic ones like these. If you really, really feel like this is too much for you, we can cancel the date and go home. I want you to have a good time, and I know it’s hard for you when there’s so many people.”

You’re chewing at your lower lip again, and Soobin lets go of one of your hands to thumb at your lip to stop you before you tear it open with your teeth. “But Soob, we came all this way. And you dressed so nicely for me, for this date, and I spent all this time wanting to look good for you, and spend time with you…” You trail off when your breath catches in your throat, your chin trembling as your eyes well up. “It’d be such a waste to cancel after all our time and effort.”

Once again Soobin’s thumb is gently swiping over your cheeks when the tears finally spill over, hushing you with the soft sincerity that he’s prone to when he’s not teasing you.

“Hey, hey… we can reschedule for another day, can’t we? We don’t have to do this, noona. There’s always next time. It won’t be a waste, I promise.” You feel so apologetic you could die. Soobin’s being so patient and sweet and understanding with you and here you are, kicking up a fuss. The least you could do is power through and follow through with your scheduled date, and you’d hate to miss out on this time with him that you’ve been looking forward to. You were excited for this date, and you want him to know that.

“I think I’d feel worse if we cancelled after we went through all this trouble, and especially if it was all because of me… just give me a moment to calm myself down.” Soobin nods in response, cradling your cheek in his palm, and you sigh appreciatively at the tender gesture. He doesn’t say anything as you wipe away the remnants of your tears and blow your nose– he just holds your hand, letting you gather yourself, and you think for a moment that this must be the benefit of falling for your best friend.

Once the tears have finally subsided, and you’ve had a moment to calm your nerves, you meet Soobin’s eyes, which are searching yours, as if scanning for any lingering signs of discomfort. When he can’t find any, and you give him a reassuring look and a grateful smile, he seizes the opportunity to steal a peck from your lips, grinning cheekily with his tongue between his teeth when he pulls away.

“H-hey! What was that for?!” Your shock and surprise is real, but your indignance certainly isn’t, if your rosy cheeks are any indication. Your discomfort is forgotten, at least temporarily, so you’re glad for that.

“Oh… just because. You liked it, though.” He’s so smug, that stupid asshole, but he’s right, so you pull him in for another quick kiss before you try to make a run for it. Unfortunately for your escape plan, you’ve forgotten that your hand is still very much interlocked with his, and he’s significantly stronger than you, so he easily pulls you back into his embrace. You can’t say you mind, though– he’s warm and he smells good, like jasmine and sandalwood and the faint scent of vanilla, and if you weren’t already so flustered you’d bury your face in his broad chest.

“Feeling better now?” The words fall from Soobin’s lips with a teasing lilt, but you know it’s his way of genuinely checking in on you, so you answer sincerely.

“Much better. Though I’d still like to avoid the crowds and find somewhere else to have our date… if you don’t mind? The tulips are pretty, and as much as I would like to admire them too, there’s just so many people fighting for a good photo…”

“Of course, I get it. I saw a sign pointing to a field of azaleas over there that is probably getting a lot less foot traffic than the tulips, so we could head over there?” He gestures in the opposite direction of the tulip field, and you’re more than happy to oblige, letting him tug you along.

Thankfully Soobin’s guess is correct, because there’s only a handful of people at the azalea field when you two arrive, and the tension in your shoulders finally lets up. The dainty red and pink flowers have their own quaint charm, and they’re vibrant and eye-catching. You crouch down to get a closer look, taking hold of a delicate petal in between the pads of your fingers to admire them.

“Did you know red and pink azaleas represent love and romance? Roses aren’t the only flower of love like everyone seems to think.” Soobin’s deep voice rings in your ear and you startle a little, partially because he’s way closer to you than you expected (it’s going to be a while before you get used to maintaining close proximity with him) and partially because you had no idea Soobin was just casually carrying the knowledge of flower meanings in that pretty head of his.

“They’re so pretty… they’d make a much more unique gift than roses for special occasions, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with roses, but they’re kind of done to death, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Soobin looks both ways, then plucks a flower, and you hiss in disapproval at him. “Hey–! What are you doing? The sign says that we can’t pick the flowers!” Luckily, none of the staff has taken notice of his mischievous little act, but even if they did, you can’t help but wonder if they’d even care, when he could charm his way into anything.

Soobin tucks the flower behind your ear, seemingly ignoring your disapproval as he hums a tune under his breath. “A gift for our special occasion, and a little commemoration of our budding romance, or something. And look, noona, you’re so pretty. Just like a flower.” He punctuates his statement with the sound of his phone camera flashing, followed by four more, until you’re blushing profusely with embarrassment.

“Soobin, that’s enough–” Your cheeks are beet red– you can feel it from the sheer amount of blood running into them– and though you really like that Soobin’s taking pictures of you for him to keep, you’re extremely camera shy, and he knows that, which is probably why he’s so insistent.

“Actually, the issue is that I didn’t take enough. Now smile for the camera!” You have to practically wrestle your way away from the camera, but not before he snaps a few more of you smiling bashfully at him. He catches up to you with ease (damn those long legs of his), arms secure around your frame as you squeal, though you’re secretly pleased that you’re in his hold.

The time once again ticks by like nothing as you walk side by side, admiring the blooms around you and snapping photos of each other (“For wallpaper usage purposes,” Soobin says, and you blush again), and before you know it, your watches are beeping to signify that your two hours are up. Soobin sobers up almost immediately, expression unreadable, and though he doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand, you know what’s on his mind, because the same thing is on yours.

There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air once the two of you reach the entrance of the gardens– it’s the third date, after all, and you promised you’d find out your expiration date if you made it this far. You’re relieved that your watches haven’t blared just yet, signifying the end of your connection, but you’re still struck with the nervousness of finding out how long you’ll last. You think you’ll never get over it if you only get a few months– or worse, a few days with him– after all this secret pining and yearning.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Soobin was somehow eerily calm about the whole thing. But you do know better, and you know that he’s just trying to put on a brave face for you, and for himself. The two of you open Time to Love in silence, hands still interlocked, swiping to the ‘Love Countdown’ tab with your free hands, and brace yourselves. Soobin gives you a reassuring nod, and you respond back with what you hope is an equally reassuring smile, and that your expression doesn’t betray the fear bubbling deep within you.

Soobin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, on the count of three,”

“One…” “Two…”

“Three!”

When both of you tap the in-app tab, there isn’t an array of numbers indicating an expiration date with a ticking countdown, as you expected and had grown accustomed to on your previous dates– in fact, there isn’t a single number on the screen– and instead there’s an infinity sign.

You two don’t have an expiration date.

You and Soobin look at each other, then at your watches, then at each other again.

“Wait, we don’t have an expiration date–”

Then the realization dawns on both of you, and it hits you like a truck.

“Wait, we’re soulmates?!”

Both of you are sporting the same bewildered expression, and you both go to check your progress bars, just to be sure– they’re full, just as you’d expect after being matched with your soulmate. So that’s why your watch alarms haven’t gone off. You two were the one in a million. Once the shock finally wears off, it’s replaced with pure, unbridled joy, and when Soobin sweeps you off your feet to gather you in his arms, there’s an emotion bubbling in you that’s equal parts unfamiliar and yet welcome.

You’d thought all this time, all these years, that there was no way you should feel this way about your best friend, of all people. That you shouldn’t fuck this up, because Soobin has always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him. As his friend. As your friend.

But here is the universe, telling you that you’re fated to love him, and that he’s fated to love you in return.

And love him you do. You love Soobin. And when you look at him, and see the way he’s looking at you, with fondness practically dripping from his gaze, you know he loves you too.

Maybe the watch really is bullshit. Maybe it is statistically impossible to decide someone’s life partner based on an algorithm.

But maybe it’s onto something, because it seems silly to have ever thought of being with anyone except Soobin. You never would’ve thought to look for your forever right next to you, and yet, here he is, in the flesh. Was it a coincidence that he made it onto your recommended matches that fateful night? Was it a coincidence that he felt the same way you did?

Soobin’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and you melt in his heat, kissing him back with a fierce fervor, as if desperately communicating the depth of the feelings you’ve let build up silently after all these years. You decide that there’s no such thing as coincidences– he’s always known what’s best for you, and you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. You just didn’t know that the answer to both of those things was each other.

“I love you, noona.” He whispers with a bashful, dimpled smile, and your heart swells.

“I love you too, Soob.”

Soobin has always been counting down to something.

To the end of another grueling workday, the next League of Legends patch update, to anything, so he always has something to look forward to. But he’s never looked forward to this.

The love countdown has always been something he despised and dreaded– he’s always wanted to be the master of his own fate, without the shackles of the app tying him down with each new connection. He’d always thought that his soulmate would be some poorly matched individual who he’d have a mediocre life with, but all that seems to be proven wrong as he looks at you.

He hates being wrong. But when he sees the way you smile, the way you regard him with the utmost love and affection in your gaze, the way you hold his hand as if you’ll lose him if you let go– he thinks he’s willing to concede defeat, at least this time.

Maybe that stupid watch does know a thing or two about love. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe this is all just pure coincidence. But despite it all, Soobin is thankful that this is where he ends up. That both of you had been counting down all this time to each other.

Because if there's anyone he can count on in this world, it's you.

#soobin x y/n #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin fanfic #soobin fluff #soobin fic #txt fic #choi soobin #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #txt imagines #soobin imagines

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controversially-young-girlfriend · 2 days ago

Text

read me like a book 💌prof. spencer reid x reader

💋 office hours with your fav professor. oneshot smut with softdom spencer and praise 💋

you’re prone to skipping an occasional lecture - 9am is just too early to be up! you’re a week ahead on your developmental psych notes! but you’ve never missed a class with dr. spencer reid.

as much as you enjoy the course content (and actually do the required readings) your mind goes blank once professor reid enters the lecture hall and his words fade into the background as you admire his curly hair and soft eyes. you’re almost mad he’s so hot because your lack of focus just landed you a C+ on your recent essay. you’re embarrassed not at your own academic efforts but rather the effect he has on them.

as usual, you doll yourself up before heading to class and take a seat right in the middle where dr. reid tends to lay his eyes while lecturing.

after the heard of girls auditing the class finish talking to professor reid, you approach the front of the class to ask about your essay.

you’ve always loved talking to him after class, getting a few minutes of one-on-one time with him. he’s different when not lecturing, and has an endearing awkwardness that you’ve become infatuated with. you loved when a simple question turned into what felt like a personal lesson.

“hi dr. reid, i’m wondering if i could discuss my recent essay with you?”

“definitely, however i think the next class is starting in a few minutes. would you be okay to discuss it in my office?” he tells you and you feel yourself get hot. you’ve talked to him plenty of times but never in his office, your mind immediately fantasizing about all the things you’ve imagined him doing to you in there.

you try and remain composed on the walk there, making small talk to not let any signs of your schoolgirl crush on him show.

he opens the door for you, closing it before walking over to his desk. you hand him the essay and feel your heart flutter when your fingers grace each others briefly. you try your best to follow the feedback he’s adding in red pen but you’re transfixed on the way he’s moving his hands.

you snap out of it when he softly says your name, “i hope you’re not discouraged by the grade. you’re a smart girl.” you hope he doesn’t notice how hard you’re blushing at him calling you smart.

“i know you understand the concepts but your analysis needs to remain objective. i would have given you a B if you stayed closer to the assignment outline.”

the feedback is fair but you’re worried about your gpa. “is there anyway to do some extra credit or raise my grade?”

dr. reid tells you “come see me back here before the next assignment is due and we’ll go through it together.”

you’re grateful but dreading the end of this conversation and having to leave his office.

“thanks professor reid! i really enjoy these post-lecture conversations.” you know your words are implying something more, but you’re wondering if it shows.

dr. reid replies “me too.”

you guys make eye contact until he looks to the left and takes a deep breath. “by the way, most student-teacher relationships end horribly. not to mention they’re pretty explicitly banned in the contract i signed to guest lecture here.”

“oh my god oh um i’m sorry i didn’t mean to say anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

“don’t worry, you didn’t say anything. i think you just forgot that i make a career out of profiling people.” dr. reid tells you with a slight smile on his face

“so what gave it away then?”

“you’ve been blushing for the last 15 minutes and stumbling over your words despite being a normally eloquent student in class. you’re leaned into me talking right now and i’ve caught you staring at me multiple times.” he says while smiling. you’re relieved he’s not mad, but can’t quite identify his intentions of telling you this.

“well professor reid, you’re good at your job. but like you said i’m a smart girl, so it’s only fair i get to profile you back.”

you can tell you caught his attention with that, feeling him getting a bit nervous but leaning in to hear what you have to say. your legs are now touching as you list the little traits of his you’ve noticed all semester.

“you have a whole fan club of girls who come to your lectures and wait to talk to you. do you give all of them the student-teacher relationship talk? or am i just getting special treatment?”

he puts his hand on your thigh. “do you wear skirts this short when you talk to your other professors.” you’re shocked at how far he’s going but you don’t want him to stop.

“you’re easy to read, princess. i know when you’re sitting in my lectures and thinking about me. you subtly bite your lip and stare, and i can only imagine what you’re fantasizing about. i’d guess you get off on me being your older professor, me fucking you bent over my desk as i tell you how how you’re such a pretty little slut for me.”

is he a profiler or a mind reader? you don’t want to let him win but he looks at you self-satisfied and starts talking before you can think of a reply.

“and i’d place my job on the line that you’re wet just hearing that.”

“well professor reid, i’ll leave it to you to prove your theory.”

reid pushes up your skirt and feels your soaked panties. you watch him smile before pulling you into his lap and kissing you.

the makeout deepens as he grabs your waist, slowly guiding it to grind against him as his tongue is in your mouth. you hold him by the hair until he leans back to look at you. through heavy breaths he says “i’ve been thinking of you since i saw you in my first lecture.”

he takes your shirt and bra off, moving kissing your lips, down to your neck, and then down to your chest. you take off his cardigan and begin working on his button up shirt, leaving you both shirtless against eachother. “you’re so beautiful like this.” he tells you.

you feel him adjust your legs to take off your skirt and panties. slowly teasing his fingers at your entrance, he quickly dips a finger in just to tell you “you’re so wet, so desperate for me pretty girl.” as you try and rub against his hand for contact. he’s right, you need him badly right now.

dr. reid rubs circles on your clit and you let out a soft moan. he watches your face as he slips his fingers inside. “fuck you’re good, dr. reid.” you can tell being called by the honorific turns him on by the way he gripped you tighter and sighed. he takes his fingers out from inside you and pushes them into your mouth. you give him a show, looking him right in the eyes as you work your tongue around them. “you’re such a slut for me, baby.” you’re shocked that this sort of dirty talk is coming from your nerdy, cardigan wearing professor.

he pulls his fingers out and you unbuckle his belt. you palm him which earns a slight moan out of reid. “seems like you want me just as bad” you tell him. you pull down his boxers and he grabs your hair into a ponytail. with his other hand he lifts your chin slightly to ask, “well how bad do you want me?” you immediately begin going down on him, eager to impress.

you’re blissed out listening to the praises coming from him between the heavy breaths. “so pretty baby”, “taking me so well”

he lifts your head up, “wanna bend over the desk, sweetheart?” you gladly agree, anticipating him as he grips your hips and plants a kiss on your neck.

he’s big but you’re savouring every inch of professor reid inside of you. thrusting slowly as you adjust to the feeling. he speeds up as he talks you through it, “such a cute little slut sitting in my lectures imagining me fucking you like this. you feel so fucking good baby.” you begin to unravel with pleasure.

you can barely form a sentence but manage to ask “have a thing for fucking college girls, professor reid?” you say between moans.

he thrusts into you harder and positions his mouth right beside your ear, “just the ones who come into my office in short skirts to seduce me.”

you guys won’t last much longer, he feels your core tightening around him. “i want to watch you cum for me.” he tells you.

you unravel in his arms, with him finishing soon after. he holds you in his arms as you catch your breath. “maybe your profile was right about me, dr. reid” you say to him lightheartedly.

“you can call me spencer. although there is a definite appeal to being called dr. in this context” he says.

you help rearrange the papers on his desk that were pushed off earlier and get dressed again.

“um don’t worry about your essay grade. if you ever want to do this again perhaps i can count it as extra credit.” he smiles and tells you.

“i’d love that. i’ll be here after every lecture.” you say with a massive smile on your face.

he kisses you once more, “now go study. i’ll see you next week.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #professor spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #dr reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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limethefirst · 2 days ago

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hwellooooo i love your movie shadow fics!! Would it be alright if i made a request i finally got to see sonic movie three today as my christmas present and im brain rotted from it. Could we have a movie shadow x a reader who maybe prehaps shadow meet when he woke up at gun? Maybe prehaps he sees that the reader is being mistreated and hiut by gun after they have been looking after shadow in statis for awhile because they do see the good in him and tried to defend gim before he woke up to let him be left alone. Then when shadow sees it something snaps in him and he saves them. Bringing them with him to get revenge on gun, wanting for protect them for her act of kindness towards him seeing a glipse of maria in her.

Protector

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of being hurt/kinda bullied by everyone at work

summary: after waking up from statis Shadow asks you to come with him, wanting to protect you after you protected him

a/n: thank you for the love! This request kinda stumped me so sorry for taking a bit and if it isn’t the best, I was thinking of ways to incorporate the reader into the story but for it to also make sense

You were a worker at GUN, a lower level worker, at least that’s what your co-workers liked to joke about. A laughing stock, the work punchline. Basically deemed as unimportant and unnecessary but the reason for this wasn’t because you sucked at your job or you were a loser, no, it’s because your task was looked down upon.

When you were hired, the one thing you were told to do was watch over and take care of Project Shadow; you would clean the room he was stored in, kept the glass from getting cloudy and would just watch over him. A little protector, the others called you.

Today was no different from the day before, or the day before that or even the month before. It was routine. You quietly made your way to Shadows containment unit. The guards watched you enter, only sparing you a quick glance before going back to whatever they were talking about.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the glass, checking for any cracks or signs for deterioration, “This sucks,” you quietly exclaimed.

Not because you hated looking after Shadow, no that was something you actually enjoyed, you’d some blabber about your day, finding comfort in the fact he couldn’t actually hear you; though sometimes you wish he could.

No, what sucked was the fact everyday at work was another day of being belittled and looked down upon. If it weren’t for the fact you’d grown somewhat attached to the little hedgehog, as well as a really good pay, you probably would’ve left this job by now.

Slowly you continued to check the glass, making sure it was in perfect condition. As you did a sudden movement had caught your eye, it was fast and quick; like a flicker of light.

You weren’t able to quite catch what is was though because it was gone almost as fast as it was there, so you tried to leave it alone, going back to cleaning and checking the containment unit.

Suddenly the guards shouted your name, which was strange as they didn’t really talk to you much, thinking you were weird for protecting a hedgehog in Statis. You turned over for them and saw you motioning to move away from Shadow.

You only made a few advances towards them before a bunch of soldiers stormed the room, “What are you guys doing?!” You angrily questioned the masked men.

None of them responded, their gazes fixed on the hedgehog in front of you. The room became eerily still, the only thing you could hear was the faint beep of the machine wired to enhance and check Shadows heart beat.

It was a fast paced beep, it was getting worse and worse, you started to grow worried, trying to make your way to the machine so you could check it but one of the soldiers held you back. Not gently, quite forcefully, sparing no expense when it came to Project Shadow.

Then it stilled. The long beep indicating it was over, your eyes widened, a mix of shock and confusion over coming you. The soldier that was holding you back let you go, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

Crack.

The glass was shattered. Shadow had finally woken up, and his demeanor only showed one thing. That he wanted revenge.

You were quickly pushed onto the cold floor, hitting your arm harshly, a small cut formed as blood was seeping from the wound. You let out a hiss of pain that didn’t seem to go unnoticed by the hedgehog.

He didn’t have a chance to react though as the men started to shoot at him, not caring that you were in the room. You tried to duck and ran into the corner hoping that no stray bullets, rubber or not, wouldn’t come your way.

Shadow made quick work of the soldiers, effortlessly taking them down without breaking a sweat. Then he made it to you, his gaze was sharp, but he didn’t attack you. He just watched you, his eyes looking at the cut you had on your arm, the blood dripping onto the floor. He looked back at the man who pushed you down.

His expression was unreadable. You both looked at each other, for some reason you weren’t scared, you should’ve been considering you just saw him take down over 8 armed men but if Shadow was going to hurt you he definitely would’ve already.

“Come.” He told you, turning his back to you as he punched the wall in front of him down and looked back at you before he continued to walk to the edge of the cliff.

Shadow wasn’t entirely sure why he told you to come with him. There wasn’t a set moment he knew you would accompany him, all he knew was that you weren’t like the other workers, who saw him as a threat and tried to take him down. You defended him, and for this kindness he would repay you. By becoming your protector, like you had been protecting him before.

#sonic movie 3 #sonic 3 x reader #sonic 3 spoilers #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader

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urmum-lovesme · 2 days ago

Text

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P8

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Did someone say angst? I'm sorry but I had to :( Let's see, things are a little awkward cause Rafe couldn't keep it in his pants, our boy has a new competitor and well... it's a pretty nasty ending ngl. My poor poor y/n I just want to give her a hot chocolate and tuck her into bed. I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the interactions with my writing, it makes me so happy to share my thoughts with you <3

ENJOY YOUR NEW YEARS!!!! STAY SAFE I LOVE YOU ALL XOXO -Lula ♥

warnings: ANGST!!! mentions of rafe's mother who is dead, suggestive behaviour, finger sucking, mentions of giving head, mentions of slitting someones wrists.

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

Three weeks had passed since Midsummers. Three long treacherous weeks, since Rafe let things go too far, since he’d taken a step he couldn’t undo. It made him ache with regret, the guilt gnawed at him, biting at his insides every time he thought about that moment in the car when he’d crossed a line he knew changed their friendship completely. Every time he saw her name on his phone or heard her voice, he felt the weight of that night pressing down on him all over again. It wasn’t just about the guilt of what he’d done, though that was bad enough—it was the way he'd let things spiral. He had buried himself in the family business, using it as the perfect excuse to avoid her. The demands of the Cameron legacy were endless, and it’d never been easier to lose himself in it. His father’s expectations were high, and with the constant pressure to maintain the family's image, finding a way to keep away from the girl was easy.

Avoidance had felt like the only answer, but tonight, she’d called him over to meet up. She didn’t specify only sent him a short message;

Princess : Get to mine at 4 please???

Princess : And if Ward tells you to work I’ll come over and slit his wrists :)

He knew she was fed up with his petty excuses, and he couldn't blame her. This was the longest that they’d been apart from each other, the last time being two years ago when she went to Bali for the summer, even then they’d talked every day.

He rang the doorbell as he stood on the girl's porch, hands shoved deep into his pockets fiddling with the empty gum wrapper, trying to relax, but there was no calm to be found.

It's fine, she doesn’t know what you’ve done and she doesn’t remember the night.

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

Y/n shoved the container into the little wooden basket, covering it with a red gingham towel. She’d realised that Rafe had been distant with her but she assumed it was his father’s fault. Truth be told she didn’t remember much from midsummers, the last thing being Rafe carrying her to the beach. It’s not that it worried her, she knew she could trust the boy, she always has. Yet the way he was acting with her, short answers, unanswered calls, it made her feel like she’d done something wrong. However, his absence worked in her favour as she knew Rafe didn’t know what she’d planned for the day, the only thing he got from her was a message telling him to come over. Just as she placed the basket near the door, there was a knock.

He raised his hand to the front door, and rapped his knuckles against the hard wood a couple of times again, hoping that maybe she’d forgotten and he could go home. He heard her footsteps walking towards the door, the sound of it unlocking before it swung open to reveal her standing there. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over her. Her lips drew into a smile as she saw the boy standing there on the other side of the door.

Breathe

“Hey angel baby.” She joked as she opened the door wider for him to come in.

Missed you

“Hey princess” he replied, smiling slightly as he stepped through the door, the sound of it closing softly behind him.

Just stay calm, she’s clueless

“I’m actually ready to go.” She spoke up as she slipped her trainers on her feet breaking the silence between them, standing up straight as she grabbed the basket off the floor and her car keys which lay on the table near the doors. Her eyes landed on the boy standing by the doorway, shoulders at unease.

“You look a little tense, you good?”

Rafe exhaled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the motion awkward, almost unsure.

“Yeah, just... long week.”

He shrugged it off, though the words felt false. His father’s business had been a convenient distraction, but that didn’t make the guilt any easier to ignore. He should’ve stayed away longer- for a brief second, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. Y/N, still holding the car keys in her hand, tilted her head, studying him. There was an odd quietness in the air, the kind that settled between them like an unsaid word. She could tell something was off. He was too guarded, too distant, and she had learned to read him better than that over the years.

"You sure?" She pressed, taking a small step toward him, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I mean, if you’re not feeling it today, we can always—”

“No,"

Rafe interrupted quickly, a little too fast. He cleared his throat, forcing a more genuine smile this time. "No, it’s fine. Just... a lot on my mind, you know?” He raked a hand through his hair, a motion that felt more defensive than usual. He wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t. It was easier to shut down, to lie, to pretend nothing had changed, that things were still as they were before.

Before everything had gotten well, messy.

Y/N didn’t seem convinced. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the concern evident, but she didn’t push it any further. Instead, she offered him a soft smile, the kind that always made his chest tighten, like she was silently giving him space without making him feel like a complete asshole.

“Alright,”

she said, finally breaking the moment, her voice lighter. “-oh wait…” she spoke up as she jogged quickly to the kitchen, grabbing something in her hand and slipping it secretly Into the basket. He watched her carefully as she grabbed the basket and her keys off the table, his brows raising in slight worry. Why did she have a basket?

“Ok.. I’m guessing you’re not telling me where we’re going?” he asked, as he followed her out to her car.

This is awkward

She shrugged her shoulders as she took the steps down towards her car, opening it up and placing the basket into the back seat, slipping into the driver's seat.

He rolled his eyes at her obvious closed off behavior and opened the passenger seat, getting into the car and instantly being engulfed in the familiar smell of her. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat as he settled, clipping the seatbelt in and turning to her slightly the girl speaking up before he had a chance,

“You’re being weird right now”

“No im not. I’m completely casual right now.” He mumbled out as he raised his brows, fingers fiddling with the buttons on the car, music soon filling the car.

“You’ve never been casual Rafe. And I can tell somethings wrong because you’ve been acting weird ever since Midsummers”

Rafe’s stomach flipped at the mention of that night. He’d tried to block it out, bury it under layers of busy work and fake nonchalance, but Y/N had a way of bringing everything to the surface, whether he liked it or not.

Well shit

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” She asked, voice softer now as she turned to look at him, hands slipping off the wheel to rest in her lap.

For a moment, Rafe didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He was too busy trying to suppress the guilt that surged up, threatening to choke him.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask the panic clawing at him, then forced a shaky smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, like he was trying to swallow down the words that were begging to come out.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Y/N didn’t look convinced. She was too perceptive and definitely too smart to fall for his half-hearted reassurance. Her silence was enough of an answer, but when he glanced back at her, he saw the crease in her forehead, the slight downturn of her lips. She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, Rafe.”

He knew, deep down, that she deserved the truth, but there was something inside of him that just couldn’t let go. He closed his eyes for a moment, running a hand over his face in frustration.

“I’m fine,” he said, more firmly this time, “Really. Just... dealing with some stuff- family stuff.”

She nodded her head silently as the car hummed with the sound of the engine now, the road beneath them nothing but a blur as they drove, her eyes focused ahead, her fingers gripping the wheel again.

“Right well…” she licked her lips "well, can we stop with this awkward tension then?"

She let out a little laugh, trying to cut through the suffocating quiet. It wasn’t forced, but Rafe could hear the underlying edge of uncertainty in her tone, like she was waiting for him to meet her halfway. She was trying so hard to make this easier for him, so maybe it was time to get his act together. He leaned back in his seat, throwing his arm over her headrest,

"Sorry, I've been so moody lately. Think I’m about to get my period or something," he said to her as his hand came out to place over his stomach. Her hand left the wheel coming to swat the boy on the stomach, to which he let out a small ‘oof’.

“Don’t be a dick Cameron” she spoke out shaking her head, yet she couldn’t stop the smile from rising on her face.

Much better.

“So where are we going anyways?” He looked away from the window to the girl as he leant back in his seat, letting his guard down now.

“Listen. Can you just appreciate my effort Mr . ‘I need to know everything all the time’.“ She spoke back to him as her fingers tapped on the wheel along with the song playing in the background.

He rolled his eyes at her comment, a smirk pulling at his lips. He opened his mouth to throw back a snarky remark at the girl but was cut off,

“Stop bitching Rafe”

She rolled her eyes at him as she turned off the main road, wheels grumbling against the stony road. The boy let out a huff as she scolded him, yet his heart fluttered as he looked away out the window, satisfied they were back to being themselves. As they drove Y/n’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, her eyes flickered down to the lit up screen before ignoring it and looking back up at the road, it buzzed again.

Then again

The repeated buzzing of her phone in the cup holder caught the boy’s attention, turning the smirk on his lips into a frown.

“You gonna get that?” He asked quietly, turning to look at her, eyes taking in the way her fingers were starting to tap the wheel impatiently.

“No I don’t drive and tex-” she watched as the boy quickly snatched up the phone looking at the screen.

“Hey!” She protested.

He chuckled slightly at her protest to his move, staring at the phone; it took him a second to register the name of the person blowing up her phone, frowning almost instantly,

“Why is Cooper texting you?”

“It’s nothing.” She diverted the conversation.

The truth was that her and Cooper had been talking more than she thought they would be in the past week, and Rafe’s absence, well she did miss him but it did make it easier for her to get to know the boy a bit better.

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

He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the dance floor before she could protest.

“Come on, we’re dancing now.”

Y/N laughed, stumbling slightly as he tugged her along. “I told you, I can’t dance,” she said, half protesting, half entertained. “I’m more of a ‘stay in the corner and judge the people who actually can’ kind of person.”

Cooper shot her a mischievous grin. “Oh, no way. You’re not getting out of this that easily. I’ve seen you at parties, Y/N. You’ve got moves.”

“You’ve seen me at parties?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful.

“That’s a little creepy, don’t you think?”

Cooper only shrugged as he pulled her along. “Creepy or not, I know what I’m talking about. You’re not fooling anyone. Let’s see you break out some of that hidden talent.”

Before she could respond, the boy spun her, his hand lightly resting on her waist as he twirled her around with more confidence than actual skill. Y/N stumbled a little, laughing as she tried to regain her balance. “I told you I can’t do this,” she teased, but her voice was light, the playful tension between them clear.

“You’re fine,” Cooper said, laughing too as he pulled her closer again.

“Yeah, right,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “I think I might need a lesson or two.” She rested her hands on his shoulders, a hint of flirtation in her tone.

“I guess I could be convinced to teach you... for a price.”

Cooper looked down at her, raising an eyebrow hopefully to her as she spoke up,

“Oh yeah? And what’s the price?”

“Maybe your number…?”

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

He raised his brows, now feeling an emotion other than guilt which seemed to disappear the instant he saw the boy’s name, .... anger, …jealousy? They’d been talking and he had no idea about it?

He didn’t like it. At all.

His grip on the phone grew tighter as he looked at her, his eyes almost glaring,

“Bullshit”

“Jesus Rafe, I’m just talking to the guy. It’s not like I’m sucking his dick.” She rolled her eyes at him scoffing. His attitude from the moment they met this morning had been off and now it was just getting worse and it was starting to irritate her.

His eyes widened at her words, clenching his jaw to stop himself from saying anything stupid. The image popped into his mind again, of her on her knees, yet this time it was different because he hated it.

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me”

He said, his voice low, almost a growl, but heavy with sarcasm and bitterness. Y/N froze. Her mouth parted in disbelief, eyes wide.

“Excuse me?” she said, her voice sharp with confusion.

“You heard me.”

The words left his mouth with an edge that made his insides twist, but he couldn’t stop himself. He knew what he was saying was childish and irrational. But he couldn’t care less. If there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was accept the fact Cooper of all people was getting her attention and she wasn’t telling him about it.

She finally shook her head, the frustration clear in her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe?” Her words hit him like a cold slap, cutting through the fog of his jealousy for a moment.

“You’ve been acting weird all day, but now this? I’m just talking to him. He’s my fucking friend, okay? I didn’t know I needed your approval”

He wanted to apologize, to backpedal, but his pride kept him rooted to the spot. Instead, his thoughts simply spiralled, and before he could even make sense of what he was feeling, he blurted out,

“I don’t care if he’s your friend,” his voice tight, his frustration seeping through.

“You didn’t tell me about him. That’s what I care about.”

“You haven’t spoken to me for three weeks!?”

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, a mix of disbelief and frustration lacing it as she brought the car to a stop, shifting it into park, stopping just outside an opening of trees. She undid her seat belt. He got out of the car after her, irritation still thrumming through his body. He slammed the door shut with probably a little more force than necessary and followed her out into the trees. Basket in her hand she whipped around to look at him after she heard the car door slam. His jaw was clenched tight, his arms crossed across his chest as he stared down at her. Every bone in his body was thrumming with anger and annoyance, every cell in his brain screaming at him to say the stupid, irrational things he was thinking but instead he settled for shooting her a glare,

“And now you bring me out to the middle of nowhere. What are we doing out here?” He all but spat out.

“Can you not?”

She spoke softer now, no longer angered by his fury but more upset, she’d gone out of her way for him and he was being cruel, incredibly cruel.

“I’ve tried to organise this for you because I've missed you. And you’re treating me like some shitty ex you don’t want to see.”

He was about to say something stupid again, but he bit it back before the words could leave. The disappointment in her eyes made his chest tighten painfully, but the jealousy and anger was burning through his chest, and he couldn’t get it to stop.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“-talk to me please?”

“I’ve just been-” he looked at the girl, he knew he had to admit to her so he might as well tell her what’s been going on, there’s nothing else he could say.

“-struggling with my counselling”

You’re a fucking liar

“Oh...” she placed the basket on the floor, arms wrapped around the boy as she noticed him avoiding her. She rubbed his back slowly as she spoke,

“It’s okay i’m sure that there som-”

You’re sick

Her words faded, dissolving into a quiet hum in his ears. All he could focus on was the softness of her, her warmth, the way her body seemed to melt against his, trying to soothe him, to reassure him that everything would be okay; but the more she held him, the worse it got.

“Right?” She looked to him head tilted slightly

What?

“Uh yeah.” He nodded back as he watched her take a step back from him, his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, his skin having gotten hot under his touch. Although, however much he tried to push away the burning question he couldn’t stop himself and the words tumbled past his lips,

“Why are you talking to him?”

He asked gruffly, slowly rubbing a hand across his face before looking down at the ground.

“Why can’t I talk to him Rafe.” She spoke with a gentle voice.

What is going on right now

“I just-“

“Can we drop this please?” She looked up to him “-it’s just going to ruin our day…”

Y/n was starting to think that the day was already ruined, maybe this whole outing was a bad idea, maybe she should’ve just taken him to the country club..? That would’ve been easier. The usual routine- drinking, mingling with people, keeping the conversation light and predictable. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to deal with this awkwardness, with his brooding silence and the strange, almost hostile energy he was radiating.

He’s being so… bizarre?

“Let's drop it..” He muttered out clearing his throat, breaking the silence which lingered between them. If he was going to be with her for the next few hours he guessed it was time he started being a little less, irrational. She nodded as she leant over to pick up the basket, head turning back to look at him.

“You coming?”

“I’m coming.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his muscles starting to relax a little as they walked deeper into the trees together. The rustling of leaves beneath their feet was the only sound between them now, the sharp crack of twigs beneath his boots grounding him in the moment. It was quiet, and for the first time in a long while, the air between them wasn’t thick with tension. Maybe it was the isolation of the forest or the way the sunlight filtered softly through the trees, but something felt less suffocating. Y/n occasionally bumped her shoulder into the boy’s as they walked, easing the tension between them. They walked a while out before she stopped him turning around and facing him.

“Okay so…” She looked down to the basket in her hands before up to him rocking back and forth on her heels slightly.

“I kinda sorta need to like…. Blindfold you…?”

She said, her voice trailing off. His brows shot up in surprise at the request.

Blindfold?

His mouth opened slightly as he tried to process what she was asking. The moment was so unexpected, so out of nowhere that his mind had to catch up with the words. His gaze flicked from her face to the basket she was still holding.

“You wanna blindfold me?” He asked, an amused tone in his voice.

“Yeah…” She spoke out hand reaching into the basket and pulling out a silky scarf of hers which she held up. She had to purse her lips to stop herself from smiling. He chuckled as he watched her hold up a scarf, his eyes flickering from the item in her hands back to her face.

“Why exactly do you need to blindfold me princess?” He asked, eyes narrowed curiously.

“It’s a… surprise?” She spoke out as she placed the basket down onto the floor.

His eyes flickered from the basket on the ground, to the scarf in her hands and he took a step closer to her.

“A surprise” he repeated back to her, his eyes trained on the scarf she held up.

“So..?” She spoke out as she rounded to stand behind him placing the silk material in front of the boy.

He shook his head humorously as she stood behind him, hands gently touching his shoulders. He couldn’t help a slight shiver run through his body at her proximity, he leaned back slightly, his head tilting back to look at her,

“Alright, whatever you say..” He said quietly, more than a little bemused by the situation.She lifted the scarf to his eyes covering them and tying it gently.

“S’this okay?”

He closed his eyes as the soft material of her scarf was placed over them. The sudden loss of sight made his other senses kick into overdrive, and he shifted in his spot slightly as every brush of her fingers felt heightened.

“It's fine princess”

She let out a hum in response as she picked up the basket taking his hand and leading him forward. He felt the subtle pressure of her hand in his, her palm fitting so perfectly against his, his large calloused fingers intertwined with her smooth ones. He let her guide him forward, his eyes covered by the scarf meaning he had to trust her completely.

"Careful," she mumbled, her voice a soft and breathy as she guided him through the dense forest. He felt her fingers tighten around his for a moment, pulling him a little to the left, avoiding an unseen obstacle. They came to a stop and she dropped his hand slowly and turned to him,

“M’kay you can take it off…” She said, her voice quiet, laced with an unspoken anxiety that she couldn’t quite shake.

Rafe reached up and pulled the blindfold from his eyes. The cool air hit his skin, and briefly he blinked against the light, his vision adjusting slowly to the shift in brightness.

It took him a moment, but when his eyes finally cleared, he looked ahead—and then froze.

His gaze swept over the sight before him, as though he were unsure if he was hallucinating. They were standing in a small clearing in the middle of the trees, but the thing that really caught his attention was the small, weathered wooden structure standing in front of them, tucked away amongst the trees. It leant just slightly to one side, the paint faded the colors dulled by time. It wasn’t much with only a small set of steps leading up to its door, but there was something undeniably nostalgic about it. Fairy lights were strung lazily by the door, which was cracked open just a bit, inviting, like it had been waiting for them to return.

"Surprise,"

she whispered, and the boy heard the smile in her voice before he even looked at her.

This wasn’t just a hut. This was their hut.

No way

The one they had found together when they were kids, hidden away in the woods. The memories came rushing back with startling clarity, those summer afternoons when they would sneak away from everything, from the adults, to build their own little secret place to get away.

"How did you… " He stuttered out in amazement, his eyes flickering from the building back to her face.

“Took me a while.”

She spoke as she took a step towards the door encouraging him to push it open.

“Go on,” she said, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It’s just like we left it.”

He gently pushed the old door open, creaking loudly as the hinges moved, and stepped through the doorway. He let out a sound of disbelief as he stepped further into the hut, his head swiveling, eyes wide, scanning every familiar corner. She followed after him a few steps behind to give him space. The shelves were still filled with their old toys and colouring pencils in old faded tins, football and kite stacked all atop each other, old baby dolls sitting side by side, frilly lace dresses covered in layers of dust. Everything was scattered across the shelves, jumbled together as if time had forgotten to organize them. She walked over to the small table in front of an old rickety couch, its fabric faded and worn from years of use. She placed the basket she held on top of it as she watched the boy admire their childhood playground.

He was still in a daze, his eyes flickering across the familiar surroundings of the old hut, his mind awash with memories he hadn’t thought about in years.

“This is…”

He paused, searching for the right words, though none seemed to quite capture the enormity of what he was feeling.

“Wow,” He finally said, his voice tinged with amazement. He ran a hand through his hair, still a little shaken by how much this place had stirred inside him.

“I can’t believe you brought me here.”

She watched him as he stopped near the wall, his gaze settling on an old picture that hung there, slightly crooked, the frame worn with time. It was when they were all much much younger; Rafe, Y/n, Topper and Kelce all standing and staring at the camera striking silly poses. The girl had her hands up behind Rafe’s head, making bunny ears as she flashed a mischievous grin at the camera. The boy, in turn, had his tongue sticking out, eyes wide with that gleam of carefree innocence. Rafe’s breath caught in his chest as he took in the photo, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, he couldn’t help it. It was a sound of genuine amusement, a laugh that felt like a brief, joyful release from the weight he’d been carrying. He stepped closer to the picture, his eyes lingering on the faces of his friends, all of them so young, before life had gotten so complicated. He reached up, running a hand along the picture frame, looking at the dusty picture, his finger coming out to whip across the glass to see it clearer.

“We were so dumb.”

He laughed again, but this time there was something bittersweet in the sound. Y/n watched his reaction, the tenderness in her gaze softening as she joined him by the picture. She could see the way his expression shifted, how the laughter had faded just slightly as he took in the nostalgia, the way his eyes lingered on the frame.

Y/n walked up standing closely to the boy as she looked at the picture above, her, Rafe and his mother. All three together, the older woman’s arms wrapped around the two kids with a wide smile as she’s crouched next to them holding them close. A small smile lifts on the girl's lips before her eyes flicker back to the boy. He felt her presence next to him so close their shoulders were pressed together. His eyes were on the picture, taking in his mother, all of them smiling together. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"I remember this picture"

His voice was quieter than he intended, a low murmur as he glanced down at the girl. The sadness that settled in Rafe’s chest was something he couldn’t escape. Even now, all these years later, his mom's absence felt like a heavy, lingering shadow over everything.

“So do I.”

She spoke softly and reached up without thinking, her hand brushing over his arm as she spoke. It was a small gesture, but one that carried a sense of comfort.

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

June’s laughter was soft, musical, and it rang in the air, soothing, like a lullaby. Her arms were wrapped around her son, pulling him close to her; Rafe, barely old enough to appreciate the moment for what it was, squirmed a little in his mother’s embrace. He’d never liked posing for photos, always too restless to stay still, but by his mother’s side he seemed to calm.

“Come on baby, just one picture,” she coaxed gently.

Y/n stood off to the side, hands gripping wildflowers she had picked earlier, the brightly coloured flowers vibrant in her grasp. The woman, sensing the silent observer, turned her attention toward the small girl, who was still standing by the door of the hut, looking at them.

"Y/n, come on," she beckoned her with a warm smile. She hesitated for a moment, then walked forward, her small feet shuffling in the dirt as she came closer to Rafe and his mother. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but there was something comforting about the way his mother reached out to her, as if she was a part of their family.

“Look at those flowers,” June said, her voice light and filled with affection as she gently cupped the flowers in the little girl’s hands. “They’re so beautiful.”

“They’re for you,”

The girl replied softly, her eyes lifting to meet June’s after lingering on the small flowers on the woman's dress. “I thought you’d like them...”

June’s eyes widened in surprise and delight, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Well, thank you, sweet girl,” she said, a hand resting on Y/n’s shoulder for a brief moment, the touch gentle and full of warmth before her finger pops out to ‘boop’ the girl on the nose, the child giggling in response.

“These are perfect.”

Rafe, who had been watching the exchange between the two, let out a small smile lift to his lips. Something about seeing his mom with Y/n made him feel... content. He didn’t have the words for it, he was only six years old after all.

June adjusted the camera sitting on the wooden steps near the door of the hut, then glanced at the two of them.

“Alright you two, ready for the shot?”

Rafe, who had been shifting from one foot to the other, suddenly stopped and looked up at his mom with big, expectant eyes.

“Do I look good mom?” he asked, holding his arms out to the sides like he was presenting himself for approval. The woman couldn’t help but laugh softly, her heart melting at how seriously he was taking this.

“Oh, you look great my handsome boy,” she said, her tone playful.

Rafe grinned, looking pleased with himself, June turning to Y/n with a teasing eye roll gesturing back to her son, the younger girl sending her a bashful smile.

June pressed the camera button, setting the timer, “Alright, on three…” then jogged over to the two children, kneeling down behind them and pulling them closer to her in a hug. Rafe wiggled a bit, trying to stay still long enough for the picture, while Y/n leaned into June’s side, her small smile soft and content.

“Say cheese!”

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

"She was happy in that picture”

“She was always happy with you.”

She spoke comfortingly before talking his hand and leading him towards the couch gesturing for him to sit down before she crouched down next to the basket pulling the towel off the top. He smiled slightly at her words before doing as she asked, the couch creaking slightly under his weight. His eyes flickered to the basket, watching as she pulled the towel off the top.

“Close your eyes,” she spoke out as she looked up to him.

His corner of his lips twitched up her orders, he let out an amused hum before obliging, shutting his eyes tightly. The sound of a lighter clicking, once, twice filled the room before the couch dipped as she sat next to the boy.

“You can open your eyes,” she spoke ever so quietly.

Rafe’s head turned slightly towards her, his eyes flickered under her instruction, slowly opening his eyes to take in the sight in front of him. The girl sat next to him, plate in hand which held a small cake with 5 lit candles on top of it. It was lined with white icing and small cherries sat on each piped swivel of the icing around the cake. His eyes flickered to the cake in her grasp, the soft flickering of the candles making the her glisten in the dim room.

"Is that for me?"

He asked quietly palms feeling clammy. Y/n looked to the boy a sheepish smile on her face as she nervously spoke out,

“Um- happy 5 months clean.”

...

She didn’t know if the boy even knew that she’d been tracking his progress. She cared about him, of course she did he’s her best friend, so when he’d told her he was stopping his relationship with the drug she observed him, although she doubted he’d noticed as she did so in silence. She’d noted each month that passed, a little star on her calendar, and now that she hadn’t seen him in a while, she thought it was a good idea to do something small to show him, that she had noticed. A wave of shock ran through him as she spoke out the words. He was stunned.

“You’ve been counting?”

He felt his heart start to thump harder in his chest, his eyes flickering from the cake to her face, slightly taken aback at the gesture.

“I-” she started to worry, overthinking that she’d overstepped a boundary,

“I thought that I’d uh-”

His heart thumped harder against his chest, beating rapidly in his chest due to a mixture of shock, surprise and… something else, an emotion he couldn’t quite name yet. Y/n, noticing his hesitation, quickly began to pull back, her fingers fidgeting nervously around the edge of the plate.

“I shouldn’t have— I mean, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or—”

She stammered, her voice quiet and unsure, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room.

“I just thought it’d be... nice. You know? To mark the day.”

Rafe’s throat tightened. He hadn’t expected this, he thought, maybe foolishly, that no one cared enough to notice the small milestones he was too proud or embarrassed to admit to. But here she was. “Five months, huh?” He let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“I didn’t even realize.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, a quiet relief settling over her features as she relaxed slightly. The tension that had gripped her melted, and she leaned back into the couch with a small exhale.

"I’m proud of you, Rafe."

The words hung in the air between them. The phrase didn’t seem to fit him, it felt foreign, strange, like he was standing in a moment that didn’t belong to him. People didn’t say that to him. They never had. He’d spent most of his life either fighting to prove he was worthy of anything, or pretending he didn’t need anyone to tell him anything at all. His heart skipped again. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to him, but somehow, with her, it felt different. More genuine. Less like a platitude and more like a truth. He smiled, a real smile this time, one that didn’t have to hide behind sarcasm,

“Guess I should be proud of myself too, huh?”

Y/n's laughter was light and, like a soft wind brushing against his skin. “Yeah. You should.”

“Didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

Rafe shifted again, his chest feeling tight in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—vulnerable, raw, with someone else’s belief in him resting so heavily in his lap.

She gave him a gentle smile, her expression tender.

“But you did.”

Now as she was sitting beside Rafe, hearing him speak those words, something inside her clicked. Her mind briefly flickered to her brother, and the wave of grief that had followed his overdose. In a strange way, she’d felt more connected with him today than she had in a long time. There had been no ‘five months clean’, no cake, no candles, they never had the chance; so being here with Rafe, celebrating his progress, somehow felt like a way of moving forward, a kind of redemption she hadn’t known she needed. Her heart tightened in her chest, and a lump rose in her throat as the weight of the moment settled over her. She had never told Rafe how much this meant to her, when he first told her he was going to quit she expressed her support, but never truly told him how much it mattered to her, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Now’s not the time for this

She cleared her throat slightly looking down at the plate in her lap, lifting the plate up towards him passing the boy the cake, candles still flickering against the white frosting.

“You should make a wish.”

“I’m not really the ‘wish’ type.”

Rafe looked at the cake, his eyes rolling at the girl’s childlike antics, his lips quirking up slightly, he stared at the flickering flames for a beat, and Y/n could see him thinking.

“Maybe you should be,” she teased gently, nudging his arm with hers.

“I wish-”

“No!”

The girl exclaimed loudly, cutting him off eye’s wide, “can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true.”

Rafe couldn’t help but raise his brows at her theatrics, “Alright, alright, relax” he said, “I’ll keep it to myself.”

He glanced back down at the cake, the soft glow of the burning candles reflecting in his eyes. His mind wandered. He turned his gaze back to her, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to speak—but then he stopped. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his eyes tracing the outline of the cake.

I wish you knew how much you mean to me.

Without waiting, he leaned in and blew out the candles with a quick puff of air, the small flames disappearing in a soft wisp of smoke. Y/n let out a little cheer- more of a giggle- an unexpected sound of pure joy. She clapped her hands once, as if the moment deserved a celebration.

“You made a wish and everything,” she teased, her voice light and playful now. Rafe’s chuckle was low, a smile tugging at his lips,

“Guess I did,”

The girl next to him shuffled around in the basket on the table,

“Don’t know if it’ll come true,” he added, “but I think it’s a pretty good one.”

Wonder what he wished for.

She pulled out two forks holding them up for the boy to see.

“Sooo.. d’you want some cake?” she spoke, Rafe chuckled again, his hand reaching out to take one of the forks, fingers brushing lightly against hers.

"I suppose we gotta try hmm?" he reached out and took one of the forks, before looking down at the cake in front of them, eyeing the little red cherries. She took the fork in her hand and digged it into the cake then held it up to the boy in an offering,

“First bite?”

He looked at the fork in her hand, before looking up at her face, the eagerness in her eyes making his heart thump in his chest. He let out a small hum before he spoke out in a somewhat joking manner,

“Are you feeding me?”

“You got a problem?”

She raised her brow playfully. He let out a small huff in response, his eyes flickering over her face. He let a slow smile spread across his face.

"No, I have no problem with that at all princess."

He replied, opening his mouth waiting for the bite. She brought the fork towards him watching as his lips wrapped around it tasting the dessert piled on it. He held a gaze on her as his lips wrapped around the fork, taking a bite of the cake. He pulled the fork from his mouth, letting out a small hum as the sweetness of the treat coated his tongue. He let out a content hum, a small smile still on his face.

"That’s real good." He mumbled out swallowing, his eyes flickering to the cake on the plate in front of them.

“I’d hope, worked my ass off on it” She rolled her eyes teasingly at him as she took some of the sweet cream onto her finger licking it off letting out a satisfied hum. He couldn’t help but watch her lick the sweet cream off her finger. The action making his brain go slightly fuzzy and making his heart thump faster. The sight in front of him was so… innocent, but it was still making his brain buzz with something else.

Stop that

"I bet you did princess," He said, eyes glued to her still licking her finger.

“Is it up to standard?” She asked as she watched him lift another fork full to his lips. He finished eating the bite of cake as she spoke, swallowing it down and licking the lingering sweetness from his lips. He hummed out a small response as he looked at her.

“Yeah, never knew the kook princess was a little baker.”

She shook her head at his comment hand coming out to shove his shoulder. He grabbed the other fork again, his eyes flickering back to her face,

“Come here”

She leant forwards at his request, as he took his fork and ran it along the edge of the cake, scooping up some of the cream it was covered in, coating the end of the fork. He lifted it and held it in front of her mouth, an expectant look on his face as he watched her. She parted her mouth as he raised the fork to her, her lips wrapping around the sweetness coating the metal. He couldn’t help the sharp inhale he took as her lips closed around the fork, his heart thumping rapidly at the action. He pulled the fork slowly from her lips, a slow smile spreading itself across his face as he stared at her.

“Taste good?”

“Mmhmm.” She hummed back, “I should probably start a bakery, what about ‘The Sweet Spot’?" She questioned tapping her fork against her lip in mock thoughtfulness. Rafe’s face immediately lit up with amusement, his eyes widening like he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing.

“The Sweet Spot?” he repeated, his voice humoured. “Sounds like a place where people go to get more than just cake.”

Y/n threw her head back with a laugh, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. “What’s wrong with ‘The Sweet Spot’? It's catchy!”

Rafe shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Catchy?” he teased. “You’re setting yourself up for a whole different kind of clientele with that name.”

She shook her head finger taking some of the cake frosting on her finger,

“Hey you’ve got a little-” She smudged the cream onto his cheek letting out a giggle. He felt the cream hit his cheek and he let out a chuckle, looking at her with raised eyebrows,

“Really princess?”

She shrugged her shoulders playfully, licking the rest of the cream off her finger and popping a cherry into her mouth with a grin. He let out a small, somewhat incredulous scoff as he shook his head slightly, the amusement clear on his face. She was acting so innocent and yet…

Stop

"You're a brat" He stated teasingly, a small smirk still tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She raised her brow at him as she watched the boy wipe some of the cream off the cake and onto his finger moving it towards her,

“Rafe!”

He let out a small huff of laughter,

"Relax"

He said in a somewhat innocent tone, but his eyes gave away his playful intentions as he held his finger up to the girl’s mouth.

Just as she moved forward to lick the cream off his finger the boy pulled his hand back at the last second, watching with a sense of satisfaction as the cream got smeared on her cheek. Her gasp made a small shiver run through his body, making his heart thump faster in his chest

“You have something on your face princess” He teased, the amused smirk back on his face.

“Rafe!”

She exclaimed as she sat back from the boy in surprise. She suddenly moved forwards taking a large wipe of the cake onto her fingers and pushed it against his cheek, he barely had time to register her grabbing a handful of cake off the plate.

“Really Y/n?”

He said with another huff of a laugh, his arm reaching around her waist, she squealed as he pulled her closer to her, smudging the cake all over her cheeks now, spreading it across her skin as a small grin appeared on his face.

“You look messy princess.” He said in an amused tone

“You're such a dick,” she laughed at him as she leant against the boy, his hand now covered in cake, the plate laying on the couch next to them. He could feel the cake getting smeared everywhere as she leant against him, but he couldn’t care less.

“I’m a dick? You started this”

He stated in a somewhat mock offended tone, his arm wrapped around her as they both sat there covered in cake. Y/n looked at the boy’s hand as he held it by her face, not wanting to get any of it on the sofa. He felt her look down at his outstretched hand, not wanting to dirty the sofa. His blue eyes met hers, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it vibrating in his ears. As he looked at her soft expression, he got a sudden idea. He mumbled out quietly,

“Open your mouth”

She swallowed, looking from the boy's eyes, her gaze landed on his hand, long slender fingers with the white sweet cream clung to them, tempting and indulgent. As his hand lifted to her face and she parted her lips for him. He let out a small, shaky breath at her action. He slowly closed the distance, his long slender fingers pushed into her mouth, coating her lips and tongue with the sweet cream as his heart thumped in his chest. As her lips wrapped around his fingers, an inexplicable feeling of satisfaction surged through him at the feeling, her hand came up to wrap around the boy's wrist; she didn't know what was taking over her as she moved.

What am I doing

He let out a hum as her mouth worked on his fingers, a soft sound catching in his throat as he caught her eyes looking up to him. He moved his fingers slowly in and out past her lips, feeling her tongue on his skin, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He felt a shiver of pleasure run through him, igniting something in his brain. He could barely think, his brain fuzzy and filled with sinful thoughts of her. She swirled her tongue around his fingers, licking off the cream that coated them savouring the taste, her breathing had picked up ever so slightly as she looked up to the boys eyes who were boring into hers. He groaned softly at the feel of her tongue caressing his finger, and his eyes met hers.

Fuck me

He could feel heat begin to build within him, a mixture of desire and need. His eyes watched her intently, taking in the sight of her. Rafe swallowed slightly, his throat suddenly dry as he pulled his hand away from her, a light string of spit momentarily connecting his finger to her lips. The girl leant forwards slightly, her eyes flickering down to his lips and he was suddenly hyper-aware of her closeness to him, the way he could feel her breath on his skin. Rafe’s breathing was now ragged and uneven, and he felt himself leaning closer to her, his gaze falling to her lips, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. He imagined the way they would give under the pressure of a kiss, soft and inviting, making it harder to concentrate on anything but the urge to close the distance between them. He wanted to trace the line of her lips with his own, feel their warmth, and taste whatever sweetness lingered there. He could feel the tension between them, thick and electric, and he knew he should pull away, he should stop this before it went too far, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when he wanted her so badly, not when he could almost taste her on his tongue.

Y/n felt light headed as she pushed herself closer to the boy, her hand resting on his upper thigh as her gaze darted up to meet his eyes, inches away from his face. Rafe could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“Y/n”

He mumbled out barely audible as he watched the girl’s tongue dart out to wet her lips. He could feel his resolve weakening, the reason and rationality fading as the pull of desire became harder and harder to ignore.

He wanted her, needed her… in a way he never had before.

What the fuck am I doing.

What am I doing?

This is my best friend

Yet even as her conscience screamed at her she didn’t pull away, she wouldn’t, she’d wanted this for too long.

The sight and the sound of her slightly breathless made something inside Rafe stir, the line between best friends and something more beginning to blur. The realization of what they were doing suddenly hit him, a pang of guilt mixed with desire flowing through him. She was his best friend, she was supposed to be just his best friend, nothing else. He couldn’t do this.

“We shouldn’t”

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she heard him speak out. His words hung in the air, the space between them suddenly feeling miles wide. She felt sick, and she couldn't tell if it was because of the amount of cake she'd consumed or because her best friend, whom she'd been pinning over for years, didn't want her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she could barely move, as if the air itself had thickened, the boy sat back slightly putting distance between them.

-what?

The confusion crashed into her like a wave. Her mind scrambled for some explanation- anything to make sense of what had just happened. Had she misread something? Had she been too obvious? The nagging feeling that she might have let her feelings show too clearly, too soon, clawed at her, but that didn’t make sense. He’d leaned in.

He had leaned in.

He felt his heart sink as he’d pulled away from her.

Fuck

He watched as she sat motionless, her eyes searching for his, his stomach twisting and turning at the sight. He wanted her, more than anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining what they had, their friendship, the last stable thing in his life. He felt guilt coursing through him.

She blinked, trying to focus, but her mind was in a fog. She could see him, sitting back slightly, his gaze lowered, the distance between them growing, and it was like the walls around her were closing in. She couldn’t breathe.

Is he rejecting me?

Her throat tightened, and she almost choked on the lump that formed there. No, that wasn’t possible. Not after everything. After all the years of being close, of leaning on each other, laughing, sharing moments—this wasn’t supposed to happen. This was meant to be her moment. She had dreamt about this so many times, imagined it in a thousand ways.

But never like this.

He watched her expression, seeing the flash of disappointment and pain in her eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to push her away, but he couldn’t give in, he couldn’t do this to her

He didn't do relationships, he never has…

He felt his heart sink as she sat up suddenly. He watched as she shook her head, his stomach twisting and turning at the sight. He wanted her, more than anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining what they had, their friendship, the last thing connecting him to her. He felt guilt coursing through him.

“Look at me princess”

He tried to sound firm, but there was a hint of hesitation in his words, desperate for her to look at him.

“No. No you're right-”

She cleared her throat, grabbing the kitchen towel off the table and wiping her hands off the sticky cake, lifting it to wipe her cheek, before passing it back to the boy without looking at him.

You’ve fucked up

He felt his heart tug at the sound of her voice, the lump in her throat making him feel guilty. He felt sick with the whole situation. Rafe let out a breath, he knew she was lying, he could hear the shakiness in her voice; he took the towel from her, watching as she purposely avoided looking at him, and began wiping his face and hands off as well.

“Y/n.” He muttered out quietly.

She had to close her eyes momentarily to regain her composure, her back still facing him, she let out a silent breath and opened her eyes as she turned to the boy.

“Rafe, it's fine. You're right.”

He watched her for a long moment, her features composed but distant, like she had built some invisible wall between them. She didn't move, didn't say anything after that for a long time as she placed the forks and left-over cake back into the basket. The silence stretched between them uncomfortably. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the silence,

“You’re my best friend”

He said it like a confession, almost like he was trying to convince himself of it, trying to hold on to the one truth he thought he could trust. Y/n froze for a second, her fingers still gripping the handle of the basket. She could feel the weight of his words sink deep into her chest, where all the other unsaid things had already gathered. She stood from where she sat next to him forcing out a smile,

“Yeah of course- and you're mine.”

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

The drive back was silent. Not the comfortable silence that usually lingered between them- no, this one felt different.

Tense, discomfiting, awkward.

Neither of them was brave enough to break it. Y/n’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles white, her posture stiff and forward-leaning, as though if she moved even slightly, she might shatter. Her eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, her focus unwavering, as if she was trying to ignore the weight of the boy sitting beside her. Rafe sat in the passenger seat, his body turned slightly toward her, his heart twisting in his chest. He’d never felt so conflicted, so confused, so sick all at once. He wanted to reach out to her, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, he wasn’t sure if it would make things better or worse.

His gaze drifted to her, taking in the tightness in her shoulders, the subtle strain in her posture as she tried so hard to hold herself together. His chest ached, and the desire to speak, to make it better, was nearly unbearable. But the words felt trapped, like a dam that was ready to break. He couldn’t bring himself to say them.

"Do you want me to drop you home?"

Her voice cut through the silence, monotone, cold, as she kept her gaze fixed firmly ahead, as though the road were the only thing she could handle looking at right now. The shift in her voice, in her demeanor, hit Rafe harder than he expected. It stung in a way he couldn’t describe but he knew he deserved it.

“Yeah.”

He mumbled, his voice barely audible against the low hum of the car’s engine. The word felt too small, too inadequate, but it was all he could manage.

The sound of the indicator filled the silence between them, the rhythmic clicking marking each turn on the route she knew so well. The road to Tannyhill was embedded in her memory, but tonight, the familiarity of the journey did little to ease the tension in the car. When they finally came to a stop in front of the estate gates, the silence stretched, once again- heavy and suffocating. She leaned back against the seat, her shoulders sinking as if the weight of the drive had finally caught up to her. Licking her lips, she pursed them briefly before clearing her throat. The words she wanted to say stuck, tangled in her chest. Her gaze flicked toward him before retreating, hesitant.

“Thanks for… Thanks for coming today.”

She finally managed, her voice unsteady. He watched her carefully, his own heart tightening at her tone, she wasn’t looking at him. He swallowed down the sharp pang in his stomach and nodded.

“Course.”

He muttered as glanced at her again, but her face gave away nothing. She shook her head suddenly, a small, sharp movement, her hands gripped the steering wheel again, her knuckles whitening. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. The sound of his seat belt unbuckling cut through the silence, followed by the soft creak of the door opening. He stepped out, standing just outside the open door, the cool air hit him, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat rising in his chest. Guilt mixed with longing clawed at him, the rawness of it almost unbearable. He glanced back into the car, his hand resting on the frame of the door. She still wasn’t looking at him, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights on the dashboard of the car.

“I-”

He started, his voice barely more than a whisper, she echoed, her voice overlapping his, pulling his gaze back to her.

The word hung awkwardly in the air.

Finally, she looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. The corners of her lips twitched into a small, tentative smile- a fragile thing that barely held together. He froze, caught off guard by the flicker of emotion in her face. She hesitated, her grip loosening on the wheel as she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. There was so much she wanted to say, but the words felt too big, too heavy to voice. Still, she knew if she didn’t speak now, the distance between them might never close.

“I don’t want this to… change us.”

She said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Her smile faltered, but she held his gaze, hoping he could see what she couldn’t quite put into words. He felt horrible for putting her in this situation and making her question their friendship.

He wished he could tell her he didn’t want this to change them either, but he did. He was lying earlier, he wanted more than just friendship from her. He wanted to be more than just her best friend.

His breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,”

He said finally, his voice stiff, he nodded slightly, more to himself than to her, as if trying to convince himself of the truth in his own words.

Fucking say something to me

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing just a little, unsure what to make of his response.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

He shot back, his tone sharper than he’d intended. He winced at himself and softened immediately, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean… I don’t know what to say.”

Her lips pressed together tightly, and she exhaled through her nose, her gaze fixed on the dashboard.

“Yeah, well… neither do I,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the awkwardness palpable. He stood there, half-in and half-out of the car, shuffling his feet against the gravel. Every second stretched uncomfortably long.

“We’re friends Y/n. That’s all we’ll ever be.”

He gestured vaguely between them as he spoke. He didn’t even believe what he was saying, but he told himself it was for the best.

What are you talking about?

Stop talking

Y/n didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she slowly glanced at him, but only for a second- just enough for him to catch the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes before she quickly looked away.

“Right…” she whispered, her voice strained and hollow.

He opened his mouth to say something else, anything to fix it, but no words came, he let out a sigh, hand rubbing down his face.

“I’ll see you later,”

Rafe said, his voice trailing off, she didn’t speak, didn’t move to look at him, instead she let out a small hum of acknowledgement. Her head finally turned towards the sound of the car door shutting. She sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her hands were sore. Her eyes followed him as he walked up the path to his house, his steps slow, the porch light flickered on as he reached the door, casting a soft glow around him. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back toward her car for a moment. Her breath caught, her heart foolishly leaping in her chest, hoping- praying- he’d come back and tell her it was a mistake, that he hadn’t meant anything of what he’d said.

But he didn’t.

He turned back to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside.

She sat frozen, staring at the now-empty porch, her mind racing and her chest tightening. Her lip trembled and her vision blurred as tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked hard, trying to push them back, but it was useless as they slid down her cheeks. A sob broke past her lips, filling the silence that had pressed down on her for the past few hours. She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, her whole body trembling as the tears came in waves. Her forehead dropped onto the wheel, the cold leather pressing against her skin as she shook with the force of her crying.

How could she have been so wrong? So embarrassingly, painfully wrong?

“We’re friends Y/n. That’s all we’ll ever be”

She thought he’d cared—really cared. She thought there had been something between them. All those moments they’d shared, the late-night conversations, the way he’d smiled at her, the way he made her feel seen when no one else did- it had to mean something. The answer was glaringly obvious now, and it made her feel sick. Of course, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Not the way it had to her. She’d let herself believe in something that was never there.

Her sobs grew quieter, but they didn’t stop. Her chest ached as she sat there, her nose blocked as she sniffled. She hated herself for thinking he could ever see her as anything more than a friend. Her tears soaked her cheeks, and she wiped at them furiously, her hands shaking. She felt stupid, exposed, and humiliated. She let her head fall back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling of the car, her breath coming in shakily. She looked back toward the house one last time, the darkened windows staring back at her like empty eyes.

And for the first time, she wondered if holding onto him was worth it.

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

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