#men of color w/ long hair? go on

[lovedlovingly]

.

[skyguyed]

Re tags of my previous post, and im possibly about to put my foot in my mouth, I'm like really hoping they don't make Sabine romantically pine after Ezra. Reeeeeeallly hoping they'll canonically say Sabine is queer and let her b with, like, not a man

[heechwe]

lost in wonderland | 𝐩𝐬𝐡

୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 12k ୨୧ genre: smut, semi-angst, fluff ୨୧ tags: mentions of drug use, fake dating au, rockstar!sunghoon, popstar!reader, enemies to lovers au, jerk to down bad sunghoon, pet names (baby, doll, love, etc.), dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), belly bulging, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie ୨୧ synopsis: Park Sunghoon, one half of popular rock band Into Eden, is on thin ice with his management and the general public. What does his manager Jay decide to do? Set him up with the leader of rising pop girl group PrismHeart. And while it starts as two stubborn people living in a lie, growing feelings cannot hold anything but the truth. ➸ This one's dedicated to my lovely betas: Ley @pars-ley), Ally @lovetaroandtaemin, Kiki @wonwovy, & Lola @monamipencil)! I'm so grateful to y’all and the love you’ve given this story; I hope everyone else loves it too 🤍 Also the ending song and inspiration for the title is from Boys Like Girls's song "Lost in Wonderland"!

“PARK SUNGHOON: ANOTHER HEARTBREAK UNDER HIS BELT?”

“IS HEESEUNG TIRED OF HIS BANDMATE’S GAMES? IS ‘INTO EDEN’ IN TROUBLE OF DISBANDING?”

“DID SUNGHOON RUIN ANOTHER GIRL GROUP, AND HIS EX’S CAR?”

Sunghoon laughs at the headlines plastered across his manager’s desk. The gossip rags are the only vibrant thing in the office, the monochrome black and white color scheme creating a strict atmosphere that suffocates the rock star to no end. Who knew such bullshit could provide such humor? 

The sound dies on Sunghoon’s tongue when he sees Jay’s displeasure pervade the older man’s entire face. His arms are crossed, and Sunghoon can see the veins in Jay’s neck tighten.

“You think this is funny?” Jay asks, his voice even-keeled, but his body language anything but.

“No, Mr. Park.”

“Hoon.” Jay says his talent’s name with admonishment. He sits back down in his chair across from Sunghoon, the large desk separating them. “You know I hate when you call me that.”

“What should I call you, Mr. Park? Bro? Dude? J-Man?”

Jay can’t help the chuckle on his lips, but he shuts it down to go back to the discussion at hand. “Simply put, the label’s pissed. All that we should see two months before your tour is good press, not this shit. And you know Yeji is going to do more than just comment in a couple of tabloids.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “She has nothing to say, besides the fact that it ended mutually.”

“You call making out with Lia ‘ending mutually’?”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense, a smirk on his lips. “Don’t know what you were told, but that happened after we broke up.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Jay takes the multitude of tabloids and throws them in the trash next to his desk. “The label is going to chop my balls off if I don’t fix the problems you created.”

Sunghoon, in his mind, isn’t a problem child, per se. He simply pales in comparison to his golden boy best friend and musical partner, Lee Heeseung. It isn’t his fault that Heeseung is squeaky clean. The only crazy thing the guy has ever done was dye his hair red for their recent cover shoot. 

Sure, Heeseung has been committed to one person for years, long before the two men ever became a name in the public eye. The guy never partakes in recreational activities, choosing to spend his free time with his girlfriend or in video game chat rooms rather than in nightclubs like his counterpart. And he’s always been a media darling, giving signed photos to fans and providing the paparazzi with his undivided attention without complaint.

 Sunghoon likes to live without restrictions or red tape. If he has to be judged for that, constantly not measuring up to the pedestal his best friend lives on, so be it.

“It’s time for Plan B,” Jay says, breaking Sunghoon from his thoughts.

After Sunghoon’s brows furrow in confusion, Jay turns on the TV stationed behind his desk. The news video on display shows the members of PrismHeart, the label’s rising girl group, attending the AMAs with bright smiles and matching sparkly ensembles.

“This is Plan B?” Sunghoon asks, releasing a breathless laugh.

“No.” Jay points to you in the center of the LED screen. Your hair billows in the wind as your face shines with the same quality of the cameras capturing your essence on the red carpet.

Sunghoon is taken aback by you without hearing you speak a single word, and he suspects something devious brewing behind his manager’s eyes when he says, “She is.”

The nightclub is packed with D-list celebrities and upcoming starlets, ready to post to their respective social media accounts. With the right touch, the news will work its way to the trending page without fail.

Thankfully, Jay, Sunghoon’s manager, knows how to set the scene for a piece of tabloid fodder. It’s part of his job to make sure that, for better or worse, Sunghoon gets his time in the spotlight.

As for you, all you’re expected to do is mingle with your new “boyfriend,” look pretty in your little black dress, and set the trap. 

You asked your own manager, Momo, if you could bring one of the girls along to break the ice and make the “meet cute” look more believable, and both she and Jay agreed.

So here you are, sitting across from Yujin with a strawberry martini in one hand and your cellphone in the other, waiting for the signal.

“He is pretty cute. You can’t deny that.” Yujin scrolls through Sunghoon’s Instagram feed, multiple gym pics and rehearsal photos lining the grid of his main profile.

When Momo produced Jay’s offer to her, she marketed it to you as the perfect way for PrismHeart to skyrocket from simmering stardom into true mega-fame. All it took was a handful of white lies and scheduled meetups. No harm, no foul, right?

Like a devoted group leader, hands in your lap and a demure smile on your face, you said yes. You would do anything for your team and the girls who were your second family at this point. Not disclosing the truth was an easy thing to do, and nobody’s feelings would be sacrificed in the process.

It would also be a welcome distraction from the destruction of your last relationship. The back and forth with Jake proved to be too much on both your work and personal lives, 7 months of happiness leading to a slow and bitter end.

Maybe a cute boy with no attachments and some light flirting could be a nice way to bounce back into the game. Then, when a real relationship would be possible for you again, you’d be ready.

You nod and take another sip of your drink, the alcohol leaving a burning aftertaste in your throat. “He is,” you agree. “He’s terrible at time management, though, clearly.”

Yujin rolls her eyes and continues scrolling. “Take off your micromanaging hat tonight, babe. Have fun. Kiss your new fake beau.”

“Say it louder,” you chide, lips on the rim of your glass again. The drink was taking the edge off of your nerves, but you still couldn’t shake the desire to make sure things went perfectly.

For both work and personal reasons, you need this to go off without a hitch.

A second later, your phone buzzes on the top of the bar. Sunghoon’s face lights up your screen, along with his message.

[Received at 10:46 PM]: Walking in with Jungwon. U?

You internally roll your eyes at the cryptic text. Jake was so good at making his messages personable, and although you could put a dagger in him for breaking your heart, the least you can do is recognize that was one of his better qualities.

You just hope Sunghoon is better in person than he is on the page. Or phone, so to speak.

[Sent at 10:48]: By the bar with Yujin.

Sunghoon saunters through the club’s double doors, the notorious half of Into Eden smiling ear to ear with his friend Jungwon in tow. Your ex Jake and Jungwon hung in similar circles due to their statuses as popular actors, but Jungwon was always nice when you ran into him.

He greets you with a smile but stops short when he sees your best friend, his cheeks turning a red hue. “Sorry, you’re just even more beautiful in person.”

As Yujin stutters over her next words, sharing a similar blush with the man in front of her, Sunghoon saunters over to your side and grins. As you look closer at him, you can discern the pink around his irises and the flimsy edges of his smile.

He’s high. So much rides on his cooperation on this plan and he’s fucking high?

“Park Sunghoon, pleased to meet you.” He gives your hand a sloppy kiss when your fingers link together in a handshake, and you retract immediately. Sunghoon pays no mind to your distaste, immediately ordering a beer and downing it the second it slides across the bar.

“Do you think you should be mixing alcohol with…whatever’s in your system?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Sunghoon winks at you and scoots closer on his barstool to you, tracing the skin of your thighs with his eyes. “I think this is the part where we dance?”

You scoff and down what’s left of your martini. You flag the bartender down for another, incredulous but trying to mask your anger with another drink. “Maybe we should get to know each other first?”

“What’s there to know? Jay gave me all the cliffnotes this morning. And we can just learn as we go, you know?”

A part of you wants to run into this without a roadmap, but it’s not in your nature. And it would be a lot easier to let yourself relax if you knew you were walking into this plan with a person as serious as you are about it.

But no, you get a stoned rockstar as your new “boyfriend” instead.

The bartender hands you your second martini, and you hop off the barstool with it in your hand. You take a light sip before you motion to the dance floor. “Let’s go.”

You have a tight grasp on the stem of your glass as Sunghoon takes your free hand to walk towards the dance floor. You notice Yujin and Jungwon dancing in a far corner together, the two of them hitting it off incredibly well.

Your hips sway to the song, your body trying to follow the music that’s thumping loudly through the speakers. It’s a remix you don’t recognize, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You smile as the pulse of the song thrums through your veins, your nerves at their lowest since arriving at the club.

What you don’t expect is for Sunghoon’s hands to settle on your hips, pulling you closer to fall into rhythm together. He moves well considering his prowess lies in rock rather than pop.

“You’re a pretty good dancer for a bassist,” you tease.

“I have a lot of talents,” he remarks back, the club lights gleaming across his face in purple and pink strobes.

He looks better in person than in all the interviews and tabloids you read prior to meeting him tonight. In your efforts to gain intel for the meetup, you couldn’t deny how well he cleaned up, even when he acted poorly.

The slosh of your drink makes you stop dancing for a second, and you laugh. “Probably shouldn’t have brought this on the–”

Sunghoon captures your lips in a searing kiss. The taste of ale lingers on your tongue the longer both of your mouths are linked. He is a good kisser, no doubt, but where does he get off assuming you wanted him to? All you had to show for tonight so far was some small conversation. Is that his typical green light to dive straight into making out? 

You immediately push him off, the contents of your martini glass spilling on him in the process. “What the hell?” Sunghoon asks, touching his jacket and feeling the leather soaked in sugary liquor.

You’re stunned at how brash yet nonchalant he is about what he just did, caring more for his clothes than your personal space that he just invaded. 

“You’re such a bastard,” you whisper loud enough for only Sunghoon to hear, his eyes immediately widening at your words. You walk away from him stunned and drop the glass on the counter where you were initially sitting. Not wanting to take Yujin away from her success of a night, you run outside to a handful of cameras flashing and your failure coating your skin.

Late into the next morning, you sip a hefty cup of tea for breakfast as you scroll through your latest mentions. The socials are blowing up from your recent outing with Yujin, Jungwon, and Sunghoon. You half expected to wake up to the ending of your career, but to your relief, the event was nothing short of a success.

Despite your embarrassment on the drive home and sadness before bed last night, your followers and many of Into Eden’s fans seem to have taken the bait. Some took shots of you exiting the nightclub, Sunghoon following shortly behind with a smile on his face. They also edited short clips of the two of you on the dance floor. Incredibly, none of them caught your mishap with your martini on video.

Better yet, they found the prospect of you and Sunghoon not just exciting but fitting somehow.

@edenenthusiast: hope she can whip him back into shape, miss the old hoon.

@sunghoonsluv71: sad he’s off the market but they’re actually cute together??? 

@prismshearts_09: she looks so happy!! suck it @jaeyun_sim.

In the next second, your phone blows up from a mention on Sunghoon’s most recent story. Your handle is hidden in a far corner of the black screen but the words plastered across the screen say everything they need to.

“Love at first spill? 🍸😏”

All of your band members and Momo light up your group chat with their excitement. In the chaos of the chat, you thumb-up a text from Yujin about Jungwon giving her his number.

Then, a single text pops up from Sunghoon that makes your glee transform into anxiety.

[Received at 11:52 AM]: Lunch on me? :/

You feel a part of your chest flutter. There’s a hope that maybe in the light of day you’ll get a chance to see the real Sunghoon. No drugs, no cameras, no need to impress. Maybe if he’s away from the attention, he’ll realize you deserve an apology for his actions.

[Sent at 11:56 AM]: Lunch and dinner or get lost.

You see the quick succession of bubbles following your text, his response hot on the heels of your last message that he reacts to with a laughing emoji.

[Received at 11:58] I think I can handle that.

You sit across from Sunghoon on the balcony of his apartment, two BLTs cooked to perfection on the patio table in front of you. He kept to his word, laying a spread of food out for you in exchange for your time.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Did you make these yourself?” You ask.

Sunghoon shakes his head, bashful. “Jay helped me. Not only is he a great manager, but he’s actually an amazing cook.”

You nod and smile, grabbing a bite as Sunghoon’s blush and your quiet chewing fills the silence.

“I wanted to say that yesterday got out of hand, and I shouldn’t have gotten wasted before meeting you. It was unprofessional, and I apologize.”

 You tap your fingers on the wicker table, your gut warning you to be cautious. “Did Jay tell you to say that?”

Sunghoon stutters on whatever words he planned to say next and quickly runs a hand through his hair. “I mean it, what difference does it make? I really am sorry, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “So you’re apologizing using someone else’s script? That’s supposed to make me believe you?”

Sunghoon scoffs and presses his palms to the table. “You’re fucking impossible, you know that?”

“I’m impossible because you got loaded and decided to stick your tongue down my throat? Oh, and I bet the next words out of your mouth were going to be how stubborn I am because I expected you to actually want to make up for how shit you acted last night.”

“Wow. Are you just mad because you didn’t expect to like me kissing you that much?” Sunghoon says his question with a pestering but sultry tone, the words completely rhetorical.

You huff and make your exit from the table. “Fuck this, I should never have come.”

Before you can walk away from the balcony, Sunghoon takes your wrist in his hand. His eyes express his frustration, his mouth in a grim line. “Don't leave, please. Can we just pretend that the last twelve hours never happened? Start from scratch. We both know we need each other here.”

You take a deep breath and cross your arms, walking back to your side of the table with a stone expression. “I think it’s a good idea to create some rules for…this arrangement.”

Sunghoon stares you down, still irritated but agreeable. “I’m all ears.”

“First and foremost,” you start, “whenever we’re scheduled to meet, no drugs. Do it in your spare time.”

Sunghoon nods. “That’s fair.”

“Second, no PDA unless there’s people around that need to notice it. And we have to agree on it before either one of us initiates anything.”

“What,” Sunghoon laughs, “like a secret bat signal?”

“Sure Batman,” you jest. Does he have to joke every time he decides to speak? Against your better judgment, a small piece of you finds it endearing.

He ponders the thought and then taps two fingers to the side of his neck. “How’s that?”

“Fine,” you agree. “Do you have any other rules you think we should add?”

The word “we” slips so easily from your tongue. In spite of the way he stirs up every ounce of frustration inside of you, already you see him on the same team as you. That has to be a good sign.

He rubs his index finger and thumb under his chin, half teasing but half reflecting on what he could add.

“Only one more thing,” Sunghoon says. “When we don’t have plans to spend time together, what we do in our private time is our business.”

You raise your hands. “Not a problem for me.”

Sunghoon reaches his hand across the table. “Deal?”

What the outcome of your arrangement will be besides the expected results remains up in the air. Whether it will reap what you want is really anyone’s guess. But if it means you do your duties as a good bandmate, you will take whatever comes at you.

You grasp his fingers in yours, shaking them gingerly. “Deal.”

Into Eden’s most popular song “Salvation” plays on the stereo speakers in the photography studio of Vogue magazine’s headquarters. The two men on set act incredibly comfortable, Heeseung’s arm wrapped around Sunghoon’s shoulder. The older musician’s red hair is stark against the chosen clothing for the shoot, but he makes it work.

He always does, Sunghoon thinks with a repressed sigh. His hair is slicked back in contrast to Heeseung’s messy mop of wind-blown tresses, creating the contrast between the two that highlights the shoot’s concept. TWO SOULS COLLIDE: THE LEADING MUSICIANS OF NEW AGE ROCK.

Sunghoon stays still for the next shot of him and Heeseung, but he can’t help himself from following you with his eyes when you enter the studio with a bag of breakfast treats and a to-go tray of coffees.

He did not expect to see you show up to his photoshoot, and Jay didn’t give him any warning for the event on his schedule being one you would share space with. He’s not against it though. In the sea of gray suits and media lackeys, you’re a breath of fresh air. You have already taken his attention away from the mundane nature of the task he’s assigned to complete today.

He can’t deny that Jay’s plan has already made shifts to his image in the public eye. It’s only been a week of public paparazzi candids and social media mentions shared between his and your accounts, and fans are eating it up.

And, though he might never say it out loud, something about your presence levels him in a way Jay’s and Heeseung’s doesn’t. He quantifies it to you also understanding the pressures of the music industry, the feeling of someone outside of his circle who can relate to him foreign but welcome. Your relationship may be manufactured, but he has to look at the positives it’s already created in his life.

Jay runs over to you with a bright smile. “You’re an angel, thank you.”

You grin and take a breakfast sandwich from the bag to give to Sunghoon’s manager. “Least I could do for a member of my boyfriend’s camp.”

Jay winks over the rim of his coffee cup and goes back to the photographer’s side, overseeing the shots with a bit of sausage sticking out of his mouth.

You give Sunghoon a slight wave and stay a few steps away from the large lights capturing the shadows and highlights on the men’s faces.

You haven’t met Heeseung up to this point, so interacting with Sunghoon’s bandmate will add a new dimension to your “relationship.”

In contrast with Sunghoon, Heeseung exudes seriousness in every movement. You’re unsure if it’s because of his maturity or dedication to everything he does, similar to yourself, but it shows in the way the men stand next to each other. Where Sunghoon is fluid like water, transforming into whatever he needs to be, Heeseung is stoic and certain of himself, solid like a stone.

You wonder how such different people managed to be friends and bandmates. Then again, you’re in a group with four other girls, and your personalities are anything but similar.

“Alright, I think it’s time for individual shots. Mr. Park, we’ll do yours first!”

Heeseung runs to his chair in front of the vanity. It’s set up in a corner of the room for retouching his and Sunghoon’s hair and makeup. He beckons you over with a polite smile, and you oblige the silent request.

“Sorry I haven’t been able to greet you since you came in. You know how it is,” Heeseung’s lips turn up at the corners as his makeup artist dabs at his forehead with a clean powder puff. “I’m Lee Heeseung.”

You respond with your name and shake his hand, your nerves spiking. You expected Heeseung to be both attractive and polite, but it’s another level in person compared to his media appearances.

“Have you always been interested in music?” You ask.

Heeseung nods, still smiling. “Since I was old enough to hold a guitar. Both of us, actually. I don’t know if Hoon told you, but he was the one that started the band.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “No, he didn’t say anything at all. He doesn’t really talk about his work. Neither of us do.”

Heeseung laughs. “Yeah. He’s a closed book a lot of the time. But he’s got a great soul, he just doesn’t let a lot of people see it.”

You look down at your shoes, smiling. “I’d offer you a bagel, but I think the team would kill me if I let you mess up your makeup.”

Heeseung releases another chuckle. “Save it for Hoon, then. Make it a little lunch date.” When the photographer’s assistant calls for Heeseung, he winks at you and leaps off of the chair.

Sunghoon finds you in the next second, smiling warmly before taking the bag of food from your hands. “Please tell me there's an everything bagel in here.”

You nod. “With extra cream cheese.”

He beckons you to the free armchairs on the opposite side of the makeshift vanities. You sit down across from him and find your croissant in the bag, ready to eat it whole at this point.

“You could’ve eaten before I finished. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

You shrug and bite into your food. “Force of habit. I always make sure the girls eat before I do.”

He nods and takes a chunk out of his own bagel. “Like a good leader. I knew Jay liked you for a reason.”

You scoff, practically choking on the egg and cheese in the croissant. “Says the guy who started this whole thing. You didn’t tell me you were the one who made Into Eden.”

Sunghoon shrugs, his mood shifting. “It never came up. Besides, Heeseung took the proverbial role of leader a long time ago, anyway.”

You shake your head, picking at your food. “I bet everyone would give you more of a lead if you proved you could handle the responsibility.”

 Sunghoon is taken aback, there’s no doubt about that. When has he not been serious and responsible about his commitment to the band, save for the past year?

Sure, he hasn’t made great decisions recently, especially with his new…habit, simply put. But he’s never stopped caring, no matter how the tabloids turned on him or Heeseung overshadowed him when he began to fall short.

Maybe he needs to put some good will back in, even if he feels justified for being jaded at this point in his career.

Wanting to turn the tide of the conversation, Sunghoon spots a random guitar in the studio and grabs it eagerly. He sits back down with a newfound interest, plucking the strings to ensure it’s in tune.

You laugh and stuff the crumb-filled wrapper in the bag. “Avoiding the subject, I see.”

“Hey,” Sunghoon defends himself. “When I see a guitar, it’s only natural to play it.” He strums a few chords, satisfied. “Have any requests?”

You lift your shoulders, intrigued.

Sunghoon begins playing the opening strings of Oasis’s “Champagne Supernova.” It’s a bittersweet song, one with a beautiful instrumental but somber lyrics. Seems fitting for the man playing it somehow.

He begins to sing the first lines, the fried timbre of his vocals lulling you into a state of relaxation. By the introduction of the first chorus, you’re singing along with him, matching his tone with your saccharine harmonies. 

It makes the crowd around you pause to look on for a moment, mesmerized at two stars seeming to shine at the same second. They must resign it to fate, two talents coming together in music and love, unaware of the reality of your situation.

Or maybe, they see the shades of something blossoming that you and Sunghoon have yet to recognize yourselves.

You flip through the newest issue of Vogue, excited to read Sunghoon’s part of the interview. It takes a handful of turns before you make it to the spread, the interview intertwined with shots of Heeseung and Sunghoon clad in V-necks and leather jeans. Their outfits coincide with the grunge aesthetic. You flip through the discussion about their newest album, “Under the Sun,” until one specific segment catches your eye.

VOGUE: So, it’s safe to assume this new album is about dedication, or the commitment, to one’s desires. It shows in your new single off this album, “All For You,” as you said Heeseung, but how do you feel about it Sunghoon?

PSH: I agree with Hee a hundred percent. Sometimes you don’t realize how devoted you are to something or someone until you’re caught in the middle of it. And sometimes that can be beautiful and intoxicating, a reason to go on that keeps you alive in so many ways.

VOGUE: I sense something or someone on your mind besides the album.

PSH: You could say that.

You left hours before the boys began their interview. It could’ve been a million things on his mind when the writer made note of his reaction, but you know the online forums and fandoms must be exploding over the snippet.

“Whatcha reading?” Ningning asks. She walks into your kitchen, looking for a cup to fill with ice water. She may live a few apartments down, but she never fails to use her status as the youngest to barge in whenever she wants.

You show her the front cover when she turns her head back in your direction. “His new article just came out.”

“Any mentions of his new love affair?” She wiggles her eyebrows and you threaten to throw the magazine at her head.

“Drop it already, Ning! It’s not real anyway.”

“Come on. The guy is cute, you’re cute, have some fun with it!”

“I would if he didn’t have so many walls up.”

“Like you don’t?” Ningning tests the waters, the air suddenly thick with tension. “You’re always so serious. You know we love you, but you never let yourself loosen up.”

You sigh and drop the magazine on the counter. “There’s a lot of responsibilities on the line. I can’t just shuck them whenever I want.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to worry every second about them, or about us. Let go sometimes,  babe.”

Before you can respond, your doorbell rings. You’re both surprised, not expecting anyone to show up today, but you answer the door anyway. 

Sunghoon stands before the threshold with a bag of takeout and a shy smile. His eyes are not bloodshot, his outfit looks purposefully put together, and his posture tells you he’s on a mission. “Figured since you brought food last time, I oughta return the favor.”

Ningning saunters up behind you with a smirk, arms still crossed. “Speak of the devil.”

“Easy, that’s not me,” he jokes. “Probably more of an associate.”

Ningning laughs and takes the cue to exit the apartment. “Have fun, you two, but not too much fun!”

You press your hand to the back of your neck, the heat on your cheeks rising at an alarming rate. “Didn’t know we were supposed to meet today.”

“We weren’t,” he admits.

A corner of your mouth quirks up. “I thought whatever we did in our private time was our business. You’re using the space in your schedule to hang out with me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Sunghoon bops you on the nose with his index finger and drops the bag of takeout on the counter. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I got a little bit of everything. Wontons, crab rangoons, egg rolls…I guess I kinda went overboard, didn’t I?”

You shake your head, the other part of your mouth turning up until your face cracks into a full-blown smile. The uncertainty on his face, the wind-swept hairdo covering a part of his eyes, the rapid motions of his hands taking the containers of food out of the bag.

In any other circumstance, you would consider this an awkward but real first date. And because your heart is not functioning in tandem with your head, you feel the flutters in your stomach all the same. “I’ll eat whatever you brought.”

The sun sets into the clouds surrounding the apartment complexes near yours, the high-rise bathed in orange and yellow hues from the day coming to a close. Your stomach is still overwhelmingly full from the food Sunghoon brought over, but you’re in a comfortable space as you both sit on your couch together watching another episode of New Girl.

“Can I ask you something?”

Sunghoon turns to you, his smile not meeting his eyes. “‘S a free country. But I get to ask you one also. Quid pro quo and all that.”

You ponder how to word your next sentence, not wanting to cross an unspoken boundary. “Why did you start using drugs?”

He sighs, rubbing the palms of his hands on his jeans. “Honestly, I didn’t know the reason until I stopped taking them a few weeks ago…when we started this thing. It helped to take the edge off of things, off of me always worrying about how I was measuring up to Hee. And then they just helped with everything else, until they didn’t.”

Your heart aches at his answer, the explanation one you did not expect to be so in-depth. Like most starlets and singers at your age, it just seemed to be around and available to take whenever you wanted. Not that you or any of the girls in PrismHeart partook, but it was still there.

You didn’t realize that his proclivity started from a place of genuine need for something else. Anything else, if it meant he could escape.

 “My turn,” Sunghoon says, turning his full attention to you on the couch. “Why do you never let yourself relax?”

His question and Ningning’s words haunt the deep recesses of your brain in an instant, the unspoken fears inside of you coming to a head as you try to create an answer. “Being able to sing professionally has been something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. I guess somewhere deep inside I’m worried if I don’t take it seriously, I’ll lose it forever.”

Sunghoon ruminates on your answer before he traces the outline of your hand with his fingers, the touch setting off sparks on your skin. “We’re more alike than I thought.”

You laugh and throw the pillow under your back at him. “What? It’s not like I’m a robot or something.”

He chuckles and stands up from the couch. “Okay, well, either way, we need to liven the mood again.” Sunghoon scrolls through a playlist on his phone and finds a song that immediately makes his face lighten up. “Perfect.”

He connects his phone to your Bluetooth speakers, the guitar riff of The Darkness’s “I Believe In A Thing Called Love” cutting through the silence from moments before.

“What the hell-“

“Stop thinking for five minutes and dance with me or so help me God.” His eyebrows quirk up in an unspoken challenge, and before you can stop yourself and use your logical brain to think first and then decide, you’re up off of your feet with your best cockney accent to match the lead singer’s tone.

You may be off key and breathless, and Sunghoon may look ridiculous as he riffs on an air-guitar, but it’s the first night in years where you’ve truly felt free. No obligations or restrictions are there to stop you from doing what you please.

That night when you go to sleep, you save the ridiculous song to your Apple Music account and think about Sunghoon’s smile before shutting your eyes.

The flash of cameras is nothing new, especially on a red carpet. What adds a unique dynamic to the situation is Sunghoon standing by. He watches you pose for the cameras, the press doting over you for a shot of your outfit and presence at Into Eden’s album launch party.

His eyes on you burn brighter than the lights strung across the space. You blush to yourself and keep smiling for the multitudes of paparazzi. The next minute, Sunghoon puts a hand on the small of your back gently to lead you in the direction of the club a dozen feet or so away.

“Sunghoon, one picture! Just one!”

You turn your eyes to him and press two fingers to your neck, feigning it off as nervousness in front of the public. Sunghoon smirks and pulls you into his chest, letting the vultures beg for more as he holds you close.

He puts a hand up to say goodbye and walks away with you, palms intertwined. Even as you enter the club, seeing Heeseung and his girlfriend Ryujin waiting for you both, Sunghoon doesn’t let go.

“Do you want a drink?” Sunghoon asks, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“No thank you.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Sunghoon?” Ryujin asks, mystified at his newfound etiquette.

“He’s still around, Ryu. Just trying to be on his best behavior for once.” Sunghoon ruffles her hair before walking away to greet Jay at the bar riddled with executives.

She huffs and fixes the flyaways Sunghoon caused, but smiles at you when she’s done. “Whatever you’re doing to him, keep it up. I haven’t seen him this way in forever.”

Clearly Ryujin’s not aware of the circumstances of yours and Sunghoon’s relationship, but something has changed in him both in and out of the public eye. Many posts and headlines showcased your numerous outings and discreet meetups in the weeks you’ve spent together. However, there were more moments shared between you that the public had no insight on.

Nights in the recording studio, rehearsals for PrismHeart that turned into goofing off between the both of you, and rides on his motorcycle that almost made your head spin.

It’s hard to tell now where the truth stops and the lies begin, and vice versa. How can you tell yourself the smiles that he gives you aren’t genuine? How do you respond to Ryujin without feeling like your answers are coming from the depths of your heart?

“Babe, there’s that director! Let’s go say hi!” Ryujin runs over to the eponymous man with her hand tightly wrapped around Heeseung’s. He smiles apologetically before being stolen away.

You wait for Sunghoon to come back, but not before you witness Yujin and Jungwon linked arm in arm, followed by the last two people you expected to show up tonight.

Jake’s hair is newly dyed, the ash blond of his hair striking under the lights of the club. He doesn’t notice you, only shakes hands with Jungwon and continues on his path to the bar. His date and Sunghoon’s ex Yeji has her body wrapped tightly around his, even as they walk through the crowds of people.

It’s been months since you last saw him, and in spite of your desire to stay and show your pride for Sunghoon and his newest album, you want nothing more than to run out of the club and never come back. Your heartbeat quickens, the thumps of it rattling your chest with no guarantees it’ll calm down.

Like a magnet, Sunghoon is by your side immediately and looking into your eyes with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Jake’s here. Yeji’s with him.”

Sunghoon scans the crowd and lands on the two at the bar. Jake catches the younger man’s eyes and lifts his drink in congratulations, a smug smirk on his face.

Before he can walk over to the idiot’s spot, you hold onto his arm tightly to stop him. “He’s not worth it, Hoon. Trust me.”

Sunghoon knew enough of your history with the C-list actor from your own admissions and your friend’s anecdotes to want to kick the guy’s teeth in. Jake didn’t just make it harder for you to make your relationship a priority in your life, but he made every issue between the two of you your fault somehow.

And as far as Sunghoon could tell, no-one could be more devoted to the things that mattered to them than you.

“Why the fuck would he show up here?” Sunghoon asks nobody in particular, still fuming at the man’s audacity and his effect on your wellbeing. “The least I can do is show him the door.”

“No, please.” You grip onto the lapels of Sunghoon’s suit jacket, emphasizing your need to have him close. If he leaves you, you might fall apart. “Dance with me?”

Sunghoon’s anger transforms, lightly scoffing at your request with a soft smile to follow. “I don’t think this song is good to dance to, love.”

The term of endearment makes your knees weak, the word on his lips making your fingers tremble against the fabric of his jacket. Yes, the remix of one of Into Eden’s new songs “No Doubt” is more suited for a mosh pit than a couple wanting to dance, but you don’t care. “Dance with me anyway.”

You lead him to the center of the club. Both your worlds look on as you hold him close and try to match the rhythm of the remix. It’s a pointless endeavor, the beat changing right when you think you’ve mastered it. Your attempts to follow make Sunghoon smile. “If it helps, I’m not a big fan of this version of the song. Glad it’s just a B side track.”

You roll your eyes and grin. You rest your head on his chest, deciding to sway softly instead of thinking about the music pumping or the strangers’ passing glances.

“I think we’re breaking rule number two, love,” Sunghoon whispers into the crown of your head.

You move to stare up at him, running two fingers to the side of his neck exposed over the collar of his shirt. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

In the haze of blinding lights and blank faces, Sunghoon’s is the only one that matters as he bends down and presses your lips to his.

In contrast to the first kiss you ever shared, this one is not entwined with alcohol or unwelcome shock. It’s ingrained with weeks worth of tension and words that you could not read before, the lines between your agreement now crystal clear. 

You gladly accept his mouth on yours, your body on fire when his tongue touches the roof of your mouth. His hands slip down to the curve of your hips, squeezing the skin through the confines of your clothes.

The sounds of shuttering cameras and surprised voices intercut with the music are of no priority to you. All that matters is that this kiss never ends. That the feelings you’ve been harboring never have to be concealed again.

Sunghoon walks into Jay’s office with a heavy heart, unsure how to present the situation he will unfold to his manager. He’s been ducking your calls and texts, unsure how to go about his next moves before discussing his predicament with the person he trusts the most in this world, save for Heeseung.

“I could kiss you!” Jay says when he sees Sunghoon walk in, pointing at him with pure glee.

“Please don’t,” Sunghoon responds.

 “Streams of ‘All for You’ hit an all-time peak last night, the projected numbers are predicting this record to be your best selling one since the first album, and you’re a golden boy in the press again!” Relief washes over Jay’s face, the success of his plan evident in the easy posture of his body. “Not gonna say I’m a god, but I'm definitely a genius.”

Sunghoon claps his hands together, giving his manager the praise he deserves. “That’s great, Jay. Really.”

“You should be happy, man! We’re on the straight and narrow again. Now I just have to come up with some sweet and easy way to end the whole thing and we’re good to go.”

Sunghoon wants to interject, but Jay continues on with his thoughts, letting them run free out loud. “It should be pretty easy. Just gotta find another event to have you guys attend and then we’ll pull the plug—“

“Jay, I can’t.” Sunghoon blurts out the three words that have been on his mind since he walked into the label’s building. His heart rests in his throat as he holds nothing back. “I like her. Really.”

Jay stops walking around the room and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He blows the hair in front of his face, puzzled. “Well, that’s a pickle.”

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Sunghoon admits, because it’s the truth. He never intended on actually finding you endearing, funny, attractive, all the positive adjectives he can come up with in his mind. “And then the album party happened…and I just can’t.”

Jay sits down at his desk, his face becoming a mask of professionalism. “You know that’s not possible, Sunghoon. I mean, think about it. She has her band, you have yours. It would be a disaster trying to keep it up. The only reason Hee and Ryu are still together is because she isn’t involved in any of this shit.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, vaguely listening to his manager’s words but not giving them weight. “You don’t know her like I do.”

Jay shrugs. “You may be right. But you could barely handle a relationship, real or fake, when this started. Do you think a real one is manageable right now?”

Sunghoon leans back into the armchair, some of his manager’s words hitting too close to home to deny. Would he truly be able to keep a true relationship with you alive when he was always under public pressure and eventual scrutiny?

Sunghoon walks out of the office with more questions than answers, more unsure than he was before.

You sit in your bed, undecided on whether you should try to text Sunghoon again or not. The downpour outside reminds you of the onslaught of emotions pooling in your gut, a mixture of hurt and anxiety weighing heavy on your heart.

He kisses you because you both wanted him to and then he decides to leave you without a single word for days? What kind of sense does that make?

Yujin and Ningning want to cut his heart out with a rusty knife, but you assure them you’re as confused as he probably is, unsure where to go from this point forward.

If only he could give you some signal he’s still alive, you would feel more at ease.

A knock at your door makes you run to answer it, expecting Ningning to show up with Sour Patch Kids and the newest film on your To Be Watched list. “Ning, you better have ‘Bend It Like Beckham’ in your hand or you’re not coming in!”

You open the door to Sunghoon soaked through from the rain. “Sorry I came empty handed.” Sunghoon trails his eyes down your body, smirking at the Hello Kitty pattern of your cotton shirt and shorts. “Nice outfit.”

You shake your head, incredulous that he’s at your door without any word to warn you. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” he says honestly. He walks through the door and makes you back into the hallway wall. His wet body traps you against him and the walkway. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You give him a lopsided grin. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

He chuckles, swiping his wet hair off his face. “I know, I’m an idiot.”

“And a jerk.”

“And a jerk,” he parrots, eyes full of sincerity. “But I want to be better for you. I want to be worthy of being yours.”

The confession makes your body buckle. The breath that was still in your lungs escapes in one gust from your lips. How can he think he isn’t worth it after all the vulnerability he’s shown you? “You already are, Hoon.”

He places his hands on either side of your face tenderly, his mouth inching closer. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

You mirror his expression, covering his hands with your own. “I might have been told that once or twice.”

His lips collide with yours, the action soft but the emotions charged behind the kiss heavy. Where that kiss in the nightclub was chaste compared to this one, you can only imagine how the rest of the night will play out.

Sunghoon discards his jacket onto the floor, your hands automatically sliding across his damp shoulder blades. Your touch makes him shudder, a moan escaping his throat. “You’re so warm.”

You smirk. “My bed’s warmer.”

The tangle of clothes and tongues leads to your position in his lap on your bed, the comforter discarded somewhere in the rush to get him to sit down and hold you closer.

Your body writhes against his, his pants the only thing left that he’s wearing. He holds you tighter against him, groaning against your lips. “Fuck, are you trying to get me to come already?”

You blush and kiss his neck. “Wasn’t my intention, but I don’t mind.”

Sunghoon chuckles. He flips you onto your back on the mattress, taking your bra off to reveal your breasts. Your nipples perk up once the air hits your skin, and Sunghoon can’t fight the groan that escapes his lips. “You’re fucking beautiful. I could stare at your tits all day.”

Most compliments make you feel like the person giving them is obligated to, not because it’s true. But when you hear such explicit thoughts leave Sunghoon’s mouth, you believe every word he says.

He covers your body with his own, taking one nipple into his mouth as he kneads the neglected breast with one hand. Expertly, he uses his other hand to slide into your underwear, finding your clit in record time.

He swirls his index and middle finger around the bud, using your essence that has already pooled in your panties as lubricant.

You mewl, grasping Sunghoon’s hair in your fingers for purchase on something, anything.  “Fuck, that feels good.”

Sunghoon releases your nipple with a pop, his mouth trailing up the valley of your breasts to stop at your lips. “I’m not done yet, darling.”

Suddenly, he has both hands pulling your underwear down your legs, leaving the fabric dangling on the curve of your ankle. He wastes no time settling his face at the apex of your thighs.

He kisses your clit, making your body buck into his face at the quick act. By the time his tongue is inside of you, prodding deliciously at your walls, you’re practically at the brink of an orgasm.

“You like that?” Sunghoon asks, his voice wicked against your pussy, the vibrations of his mouth reverberating against your skin. “Like how I stretch you open, love?”

You nod vigorously. “Yes, Hoon, you know I do.”

He licks a long stripe up your center, from your perineum to the hood of your clit. “I have to be inside you right now, darling. But I promise, I’ll make you come on my tongue later.”

You clench down on nothing, eager to have his body conjoined with yours. He takes his jeans and boxers off in one motion, his cock long and thick. You want nothing more than to take him in your mouth, feel the taste of him on your lips, but you’re too excited for what’s to come when you look in his devilish eyes.

He settles on top of you once again, certain he’s prepped you enough for him to enter you. He looks into your eyes for confirmation, and you kiss his lips to emphasize your eagerness.

He slips inside without issue, his girth stretching you more than his tongue did. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a curse flying from your mouth when he fills you completely.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice anchored to the skin of your neck. He can practically see the outline of himself on your lower belly protruding through the skin. “Feel all of me.”

His hips push himself in and out of you, his tempo slow and torturous. The rational part of you thinks he’s only doing this for your comfort, but you know him better than most deductions of logic.

 Sunghoon knows you want him to go faster from the feeling of your nails digging into his back and your moans in the shell of his ear. But because he loves to tease, he’ll drag this out for as long as he can.

Until he hears you beg for more, that is. And you don’t mind groveling for what you want.

“Hoonie,” you plead, trying hard to meet his hips with your own for more force. “Please fuck me harder.”

Sunghoon kisses your forehead before saying, “Flip over for me, love. All fours.”

You do as he commands. Once you’re in an acceptable position, he slams himself inside of you.

The tempo barely compares to the previous one, giving you no time to do anything but relish in the pistoning of his hips as they make contact with yours. He smacks your ass for good measure, a moan escaping from your lips as he rubs the reddening skin.

“You wanted this,” He reminds you, smacking your other cheek harder as he drills himself in and out of you without any sense of stopping. “Wanted me to ruin you like a good little doll.”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop,” you beg, stuffing your face into your pillow.

“None of that, my love.” He takes your hair into a makeshift ponytail to raise your head from the bed. “Want everyone to hear how good you feel, how well you’re being fucked. And I want them to know how beautiful you sound when you come.”

You’re limp by the time your orgasm rushes through you, your body wrecked to no end as you’re bathed in ecstasy.

“Holy shit,” you mewl, still feeling the aftershocks.

Sunghoon continues on with his relentless attention, his speed not letting up. He moves you against him and vice versa as he pleases, seeing the white coating of your essence on his cock as it disappears inside of you.

“Fuck, baby, where do you want me to come?” He asks, unsure how much longer he can hold it in.

“Inside of me, please.”

Don’t have to tell him twice.

A groan rips from Sunghoon’s throat as he releases inside of you, knowing his entire load is painting you white. If only he could see it, see how much of him is a part of you now.

He runs his hands up and down your body when you both come down from your highs. He kisses the reddened skin of your backside as he drags a washcloth between your legs, making sure not to overstimulate you in the process of cleaning you up.

You stare at each other, both in lingering rapture as well as disbelief. He hums a song into your ear as your eyelids flutter closed, the gravel in his voice the perfect lullaby.

You wake up the next morning to Sunghoon playing the chorus of “Wonderland,” PrismHeart’s first hit on the Top 100. You grin to yourself, holding the comforter close to your chest. “Trying to record that music video was such a pain.”

Sunghoon turns and smiles at your awoken form, putting the guitar against your side table. He takes you into his arms, kissing the top of your forehead. “How so?”

“They wanted us to do this themed shoot. White rabbits, decks of cards, me dressed as Alice. But every time the director tried filming the segment where we all went down the rabbit hole, it just kept going wrong.” You laugh and run your fingers across Sunghoon’s chest.

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. “They didn’t think to try a different concept out?”

You shook your head. “We all agreed on it. Besides, the story is actually one of the inspirations for the songs. I read a lot of Lewis Carroll growing up, but I always loved ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ the most.”

 Sunghoon runs his lips across your neck, his hand tracing circles into your waist. “A beautiful girl lost in her fantasies. Sounds nice,” he whispers, his breath creating delicious waves of heat across your skin.

It still doesn’t feel real, having him so close and naked against you in your bed. It could be a dream, one action of your subconscious playing on your deepest desires. And if that were true, you wish you would never come out of it, too happy for words to express.

When Sunghoon slips under the covers and between your legs once again, you wonder if the faraway place that held your dreams could hold a space for Sunghoon too.

It only takes one weekend for your happiness to come crashing down. Whatever you and Sunghoon were building is destroyed, all in the span of seventy-two hours.

Sunghoon is helping you cook a plethora of pancakes when your front door opens in a slam. Yujin and Jungwon bust through with worried expressions.

“You guys haven’t seen it, have you?” Yujin asks, frown lines etched on the sides of her mouth. She hands you her phone, and you and Sunghoon look over the article headline on the screen.

“‘INTO EDEN’ & ‘HEARTPRISM’ CAUGHT IN DATING SCHEME? IS IT REAL OR JUST FOR SHOW? EXCLUSIVE INSIDER TELLS ALL!”

Sunghoon pulls out his phone to call Jay, stalking into your bedroom. The conversation immediately bursts into a screaming match, the sounds of Sunghoon’s anger apparent.

“I swear to God, Jay, if you don’t find out whoever leaked this shit, I’m gonna have your head on a plate right next to theirs.”

Yujin and Jungwon grow quiet. With the news shared, your friend hugs you and walks out the door with Jungwon in tow. 

Sunghoon throws his phone onto your bed and walks back over to you, clearly worn out from the information he told Jay and the facts that were given to him by his manager.

You give him a close-lipped smile and envelop him into a hug. Sunghoon strokes your hair as you promise him, “It can be fixed, Hoon, and it will.”

A few days and one interview later prove that in spite of your hopes, not all things are fixable. 

Jay sets up a quick interview with Buzzfeed under the guise of discussing the new album. Everyone knows the sole reason for its existence is to quell the rumors of your false romance. It started that way, yes, but that doesn’t mean you or Sunghoon have to divulge that information to the public.

Heeseung and Sunghoon discuss the inspiration for their songs and the creative process behind the album. And when the questions come up regarding the rumors, Sunghoon plays them off with a smile.

“I’m not desperate enough to need to fake a relationship with anyone! How stupid would I have to be to do that?”

The interviewer quirks an eyebrow. “Are you saying your girlfriend was desperate to date you?”

“All I’m saying is that she pursued me that night in the club, and I was more than happy to see where it would go. And as they say, the rest is history.”

Heeseung looks at Sunghoon with wild eyes, his face practically screaming: That’s the best answer you could come up with?

When Sunghoon comes to your door that night to explain himself and how his words got twisted after the fact, you open the door only to throw the jacket he left in your apartment in his face.

“Desperate,” you seethe. “That’s the word you thought best described me, huh? So I guess I’m also stupid enough to want to date you, too?”

“No, I didn’t say that! I didn’t say any of those things!”

“So the interviewer was lying? Just another person or thing out to get you, right Sunghoon? When will you take responsibility for once and own up to the shit you said about us, about me?”

The girls huddle behind you as the tears stream down your face. “Just leave me alone, Sunghoon. Get away from me, use this as the out you wanted since day one.”

You slam the door in his face, not bothering to address the fist that slams into your door or Sunghoon’s pleas for the two of you to work this out.

His heart shatters from the force of his mess, a mess that not another soul can be blamed for but him.

Weeks roll by into painful silence, not a single exchange shared. You blocked him on all social media in hopes to avoid taglines of your name in relation to Sunghoon, but it’s of no use. The time comes where the girls have to keep your phone away in hopes you’ll stop searching online for comments related to the Buzzfeed article. “Babe, it’s not gonna do you any good,” Yujin sighs, powering off the device.

You nod, resigning yourself to the fact that whatever relationship you had is over, and there was no way to prevent it. You could not control or change Sunghoon anymore than he could change himself, and unfortunately, he was still in the process of doing so and shattered your heart in the quest to be a better man.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, tries everything to repair what he’s destroyed. He pleads with Jay to make contact through Momo, but his hands are tied. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, man. If I keep pestering Momo she’s going to have my ass, and not in a fun way. I’m sorry.”

The first few weeks of the tour comes and goes in a haze, Into Eden beginning their string of tour dates up and down the eastern coast of America. The only time Sunghoon is coherent enough to remember anything is in the mornings before he falls into another night of misery. He doesn’t go back to his usual routine of drugs and booze, keeping his promise religiously. Instead, he goes on in a blur, playing his instrument and performing his parts of the songs without a hitch.

He may not be happy, but at least he’s doing something he‘s always been meant to do.

One afternoon of rehearsals, Sunghoon decides to use his break time on the roof to his advantage. The sounds of the city, its car horns and speeding pedestrians, keep him sane for once in a long time. 

Of course, Heeseung has to ruin the solitude with his presence. “Sunwoo said I’d find you up here.”

“Sunwoo needs to learn to shut his mouth and focus on sound mixing,” Sunghoon grumbles, strumming the electric guitar in his lap and avoiding Heeseung’s gaze.

Heeseung sighs and sits next to his best friend. Both of their legs dangle over the edge of the building as they take in the bird’s eye view of New York City. “If you want to fix things, you just have to tell her how you feel.”

“Thanks, Yoda. Where would I be without you?”

Heeseung laughs at the young man’s ridiculous attitude, Sunghoon’s stubbornness unbroken since they became friends. “Just because you may not like my advice doesn’t mean I won’t give it to you.”

“What nuggets of wisdom could Mr. Perfect give me that I haven’t heard a thousand times over?”

“Is that what you think of me?” Heeseung runs a hand over his face, mystified at Sunghoon’s words. “I don’t know where or when you got this notion in your head that my life is perfect, but it’s complete bullshit.”

“Look at you and look at me, Hee. Everyone has said it for years. How much more talented you are, how much better you handle the spotlight compared to me, the list goes on and on.”

Heeseung closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Ryujin and I almost broke up last year.”

Sunghoon looks at his best friend, stunned. “Fuck, really?”

His best friend nods. “The last album’s release…I was never home. Ryujin kept getting on my case about us not spending time together, and we took a break for a few weeks. Once I realized how dumb it was for us to be fighting in the first place, things went back to normal. Well, normal and one relationship counselor later.” Heeseung sighs. “Jay kept it quiet from everyone, including you.”

“You could’ve told me,” Sunghoon says, guilty he had no clue.

“I know. But everyone has their secrets, just like you.” Heeseung emits another breath from the depths of his lungs. “I’m glad you know now, though.”

Sunghoon nods. The reality of what he’s done, coupled with the fact he’s spent so long misunderstanding one of the only people to love him so earnestly, hits him hard. Against his will, a few tears escape his eyes. “I really fucked up, Hee.”

Heeseung takes Sunghoon by the shoulder and makes Sunghoon look him in the eyes. “Then fix it. And let me help you.”

Sunghoon smiles, his first real smile in weeks. “How?”

Heeseung smirks. “I may not be as good at making plans as Jay, but I have a few ideas.”

The arena is alive with the sounds of the audience chanting and the instrumental intro to “All for You” exploding from the main stage and stadium speakers. Sunghoon tries to brush off his sudden nerves, the gravity of what he’s about to do shaking him to the core. It could go terribly wrong or do nothing to fix his problems, but he has to try, right?

Heeseung puts his hand on Sunghoon’s back, his bandmate providing the reassurance and stable ground he needs. “You got this, Hoon.”

The two men step on stage, the crowd screaming an octave higher when they take their instruments off their stands. Sunghoon raises a hand, motioning for the band to go quiet and the audience to silence their cheers.

“As you know, a few months ago I met a person that really matters to me. I want her and all of you to know that she still does. And if she’s listening somewhere tonight, she should know that this is for her.” 

Sunghoon begins playing the first chords of the song he’s written, nobody but Heeseung and the band aware of this change in the setlist. “This isn’t off of our new album, but I hope you all like it. It’s called ‘Lost in Wonderland.’”

Sunghoon begins the song on his guitar, Heeseung following behind him with backing vocals and a bass. The audience sways to the song, enraptured by the lyrics and melodies of the two musicians. Sunghoon pours his heart into the chorus, hoping by some luck that you’ll be able to hear this if nothing else.

“Maybe I’ll see you in Brooklyn, maybe I’ll see you in France. As long as the waves keep on rolling in. Things don’t always go the way they’re planned.

“Maybe I’ll see you in Jersey, maybe next year in Japan. Sometimes it’s so hard to find a friend, you’re the only one that just might understand.

“Lost in wonderland…”

By the time the final chorus rings out, the notes of Sunghoon’s guitar flying through the air gracefully, Sunghoon feels a million times lighter. All he can hope for now is that his plea will reach you amidst the sea of screaming fans.

Sunghoon runs off the stage as soon as the band finishes playing their last song, unable to hold his composure any longer. What stops him short from running to the green room is your face riddled with tears.

Sunghoon is unsure what to do next. Hold you in his arms and not let go, the last time he saw you being too long for him to accept as reality? Or confess what he said on stage was only a fragment of what he holds in his heart?

You beat him to the punch, your words coming out practically on top of each other. “Momo booked me a red eye to get here in time. She said Heeseung told her something had happened to you before the concert and—“

“I love you,” Sunghoon interrupts, the three words and eight letters no longer able to be kept inside of him.

You smile, eyes puffy but shining. Before you can ask him if what he just said is true, he repeats it until the words go stale, but they don’t. “I love you,” he says, “and I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t.”

He runs to you immediately and kisses you with all the energy he has left in his body. The feeling of your mouth on his and your hands gripping tight onto his shirt fixes the part of him that broke the second you told him to get lost.

He knows he’ll never let you go again, never take you for granted for another second, and always remind you how much of you is home to him now.

When you part, you ask him, “Did you really write that song for me?”

Sunghoon smirks. “Every single line.”

You nod, running your thumb across his chin. “I love you, too.”

The resounding sound of the bustling audience leaving the venue and the crew packing up fills the background as you kiss Sunghoon again, making up for the time you lost, and preparing for all the times to come.

1 YEAR LATER

PrismHeart’s new album cover is plastered across the press wall. The red carpet is dyed neon pink to accentuate the colors of the title, “Love Language.” It’s a fitting name for the project in your opinion, many of the songs directly inspired by your personal life.

Yujin fusses with Jungwon’s suit once they’re away from the press wall, their matching ensembles making you smile. They’ve been together for as long as you and Sunghoon have at this point. Sharing your songs and thoughts for the newest record has been easy thanks to a fellow member being stupidly in love like you.

Sunghoon steps onto the carpet for his round of paparazzi photos. His suit and jewelry are completely black except for the shirt he picked out that coordinates with your dress. It may be too pink for his taste, but he’d do anything to make you happy, and he knows how to stay on theme for a special occasion.

You add on a few brownie points in your mind for how incredible he looks, the suit emphasizing the contours of his body that you know too well by now. 

When Sunghoon’s done with his pap walk, he has to hold himself back from running to you and kissing you hard on the mouth. His composure hangs by a thread through seeing the top of your chest accentuated by the sweetheart neckline of your bubblegum pink dress.

He holds you close and kisses you on the cheek, a halfway point between what he should do and what he wants to do to you, the audience around them be damned.

The audience in question goes crazy when his lips linger on your cheek, the candid shot perfect for the slew of tabloids that will come out tomorrow.

“You look fucking incredible, just so you know,” Sunghoon whispers in your ear.

You smack him on the chest softly, beaming. “Language, Hoon!”

“Hey, forgive me. Words of affirmation and all, y’know. My love language.” He winks, and you chuckle into his chest.

“You and your dad jokes. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am,” he confesses, taking a free lock of hair between his fingers. “Very lucky.”

Before you can tell him you feel the same, you hear the sound of your name on an interviewer’s lips. You walk hand in hand with Sunghoon to greet her before she begins her parade of commentary, both of you all smiles as you discuss your latest single.

The show must go on, the multitude of cameras and questions second nature by now. But with Sunghoon’s hand in yours and your heart completely his, you know that none of the fame will compare to the happiness that his love has brought to your life.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @monamipencil

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[sleepy-fiction]

FIRES OF SHAO LAO.

lin lie x f!reader x shao lao 🐉🔥 NSFW

syn: once a month on the full moon, shao lao possesses your club member, lin lie. on a uni camping trip, you get chased through the forests and pinned down by lin; whose fuelled with the fires of shao lao. his only desire? to fill you with the seed of god's and men's

tgs: bdsm, powerplay, hunter/prey, cunnilingus (fem reciving), breeding kink, oviposition, laying an egg, dubcon(?), brat/brat tamer dynamics, possesion, lin physically over powers reader, p n v, freaky and cringe

an: after days of trying to figure out a new, unique lin lie fic w a fresh story (that was different from the others), I finally found it. the Adam warlock fic is becoming my longest one yet, it's a enemies to lovers slow burn and it's taking some time to cook up!! so I thought in the mean time I'd drop another lin fic for the covettes (if ur waiting for the Adam fic ur gonna have to wait longer!!) yes this is inspired by the nessa barrett pornstar edit of lin on tiktok BARELY PROOF READ

5.6K WORDS (ESTI)

Your university's Mythology club put together a fun camping trip. There were 16 of you in total in the club, split between 9 girls and 7 boys. You knew that one of the members, Lin Lie, had a crush on you. It was obvious from the longing gazes he threw your way when he thought you weren't looking, or how the cute brunette would come up to talk to you after club meetings, running hands through his soft black hair, staring at you with those sweet brown eyes.

He was so handsome, you'd admit. He was large and muscular, though he tried to hide it under various dark sweaters. His hands were about as big as your head. His presence was strong, secure, and safe. You always let out a relaxed sigh whenever he was around. Uni is borderline hectic. All these kids start off their lives as fresh "adults" lacking the maturity of middle schoolers. Or at least, that's how you'd describe the men.

Lin Lie was a breath of fresh air. He was responsible, protective, and incredibly aware of his surroundings and social standing. He was the guy you'd flock to find at a frat party, and even if you didn't talk to him at it, you always made sure you were in his line of sight. You had no time for childish men, or any sort of relationship at all. You had a Bachelors to earn.

But still, you let the handsome Chinese man in your class talk you up. He was flirty and confident at times, unearthing a side of him you didn't know out side of the quiet, responsible one. There was something wild flickering behind his eyes. And you let him entertain you with it. It got to the point where you started getting giddy whenever he was around, already knowing what he was preparing to say, and how he would lean in close to say it.

So when this trip came around, you and many women of the club almost said no to going. That was the case, until Lin Lie decided to come along. That's when all 16 members decided to pitch in, instead of the original 6 that were planning to go. Being the woods with a bunch of nerdy uni boys sounded ass. Being in the woods with uni boys and the strong, masculine Lin Lie? Hell, that scale balanced over quick.

Lin Lie was popular.

Not that he'd agree. He was one of the popular loners, mysterious and incredibly fine, living a quiet and busy lifestyle. You similarly fit the description, but that's only because you were in so many clubs.

You remember the drive there, your club leader, Peter Parker, Lin's closet friend, had rented a bus for everyone to take everyone to the camping grounds. Oddly, as you got on the bus, you were hoping for Lin to sit next to you, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't even look at you. Unlike him, he sat all the way in the far back, his navy colored hood resting high down on his forehead. He looked pale, and he almost immediately fell asleep at the back.

You hummed. You leaned forward to the seats next to you, tapping your clubmate on the head. The blonde turned around, his honey golden eyes flickering with annoyance. You spoke, "Hey... What's up with Lin today? Doesn't he seem... kind of sad?"

"I dunno. Peter said something about him being ill..." He murmured.

"Aw damn. If he was sick, he should've stayed at the dorms... Poor guy," you whispered.

Another clubmate chimed, shaking his head, "Hell no. Lin can't stay home cause then the girls wouldn't wanna go."

The blonde classmate chuckled, "Yeah! I swear if the girls bailed I'd strange, em."

As if he could.

You couldn't careless about their convo after that, softly glazing back at his groggy form, how his arm twitched in his sleep. Your eyes softened, sadness dwelling in your body as you stared at soft eyebags under his eyes. Still you couldn't crack a tender smile. "Responsible as ever, Lin... You always sacrifice yourself for others," your heart grows warm.

Maybe if he keeps it up, you might fall for him. You chuckle sadistically to yourself, turning back around and plugging in headphones. Preparing yourself for the rest of the trip.

The view of the countryside from the windows were gorgeous, as you followed from the busy city to endless rolling hills to dense greenery with the charmastic, singing crickets. When the bus stopped at the campsite. You found yourself engulfed in fallen autumn leaves, orange and green leaves singing in the lulling wind, as the middle of autumn was quickly approaching. The sun was low in the sky, as the club quickly set up camp for the night.

After dinner, poorly made steak and salad by the guys (food you noticed Lin did not eat), Peter gathered us all up by the fireplace. He grinned with an ecstatic expression, "Myth-busters!" The shoddy name Peter made for the club, "As you all know, for the past weeks, we have been going over Greek Mythology. Now, today we are here because this is the perfect season to view Ursa Major! Ursa Major heavily conmected to the Greek myth, associated with the story of Callisto, a nymph transformed into a bear by the great and powerful Zeus," He called on.

The club cheered and dummed excitedly, and you too couldn't help but be swayed by his words. The sun was beginning to set. Peter pointed to the mountain behind us, "That mountain leads to a cliff clearing where we can see the beautiful constellation in full. We're gonna hike there."

The club was a mixed group of cheers and boos, but Peter paid no mind. "Here's the deal. We're going to split into pairs. We're gonna need a pair system to make sure all of us are heading up! It's gonna get dark out here, so there's no way in hell I'd let any of you get injured," he huffed. "So everyone, let's pack up our gear and get into groups," he cheered.

You stood along with the buzzing crowd, already giggling as you exchanged looks with a few clubmates. You already knew you wanted Lin. You nonchalantly rushed on over to him, your hands behind your back as you cleared your throat. "Hey, Lin. Why don't we be buddies," you asked.

He flinched at the sound of your voice, never turning around to face you. He stood there silently for a second, his shoulders tense, his hand grabbing onto his wrist. He cleared his throat, his voice gravelly and cold, "No. Someone's gotta watch the setup... Peter chose me."

"A-Ah," even you couldn't bear the sudden ice he was throwing your way. You almost dreaded the words, as you knew he didn't want to talk anymore, "You okay... Lin?"

He winces, "Just a cold."

"Ah... Hah. Well... Get well soon?" Your confusion is imminent as you rejoin the group.

Everyone had already split into groups, save Peter, who was the hike guide. And with the odd number now that Lin's out, you were all alone. Peter noticed the mellow aura about you, as his eyes nervously flickered from Lin to you. He had this knowing look on his face. He gulped with a nervous laugh, patting your shoulder, "He gets moody when he's really sick! Ah, the g-guy... You know, always want to protect people... Even when he's in pain, he thinks not showing it is uhm... N-Not uh," Peter was oddly nervous.

Well. Peter was always a little socially awkward.

But this? You narrowed eyes on him.

He knew something and was trying to hide it. Peter awkwardly squeaked under your glare, dropping a hand from your shoulder and clapping instead. "Well! Y-You can um... Be the backline watch! Make sure nobody strays from the path, and keep an eye out on... The-uh," he turns away from you, gathering the club with a clap, "Alright, everyone, let's go!" He didn't even stay long, as your glare got too suspicious. Too tense.

Something was up. Still, you followed up the trail, beginning your way up the mountains, the campsite slowly beginning to disappear behind trees, the sun almost set behind the horizons.

Something really wasn't right.

Your gut burned.

Instincts screamed at you to stay with Lin. He's never sick, and when he is, he's never so... Brooding, so dog tired, so growlish and cold. No way. You at least need to glance to see if he's okay. You cave in, giving the campsite and Lin one last glance as it begins to disappear behind trees up the path.

That's when you saw an odd beam of green light. It was bright and quick, the odd color was a neon teal, the kind present on digital ads, not in the wild. It shot like a beadon high into air before it was swallows quickly up by foliage. A strong urge of wind flew up from the direction. What the fuck was that? You stop dead in your tracks.

You blink.

The forest was normal, the chittering of cicadas and the singing of crickets. Nothing was out of place.

You're not crazy are you?

You blink again.

No you definitely saw something!

You begin to sneak down the path, catching the smallest glimpse of the campsite, with Lin no where to be found. It was weird as you tried to duck around to see if the trees gave way to more glimpses of him on the campsite, but it didn't.

A hand clamps on your shoulder, you gasp, as you hear Peter speak, "(y/n)."

You whip around. The whole club's stopped and staring at you. You gulp in embarrassment.

Peter's eyes become serious, as if warning you with them, "(Y/n) let's stay on the path. Lin will be fine. We don't need to go back to the campsite." His grip on your shoulder is so foreboding. Foreboding also, was the aura that surrounded you in this moment.

You didn't understand it. But you shut up quickly.

This was. A little scary.

"Trust me, Lin's gonna be okay. I'm his best friend, you know," Peter tries to get all cheery as he holds your hand and brings you back up the mountain with the rest. "You know what, guys, let's make smores when we get up there!" He says to the group as he slips back up to the top, and the line starts moving.

You stare blankly down at the ground, your grip on your electric lamp tight.

"Hey, (y/n)... You okay?" You hear MJ ask, her brown eyes melting with concern.

You shake your head, "Must worried about Lin... I hope he'll be okay by himself."

She smiles at you, tucking her wild brown curls behind her ear, "Yeah... Lin's strong. Don't worry."

Don't worry was what you told yourself when you made it to the cliff clearing. Don't worry, was what you told yourself when you helped set up the fire. Don't worry is what you told yourself as you mingled with the group. Don't worry is what you told yourself when Peter put out the fire so we could all see the constellation.

It was beautiful but.

You looked back at the pitch black, foreboding forest behind you.

That mysterious light.

You blink.

You've gotta check it out.

You glanced back at the club. Everyone was relaxed, drinking hot cocoa and enjoying their stores. All pre-occupied with drinking in the moment. Best of all, Peter was snugging up with MJ at the front of it all, lost in the sauce. If there was one thing you learned about Peter, was than when he was with MJ, he saw nothing else.

Neither did he, or anyone else who cared, as a few frats saw you sneak off, catch you dip away back down the trail.

This was so damn stupid of you. But you always trusted your institution. Something was wrong with Lin.

You can't help but think of the worst as you rush down the path. It's about a ten minute walk back to the campsite, but you're booking it like a mad woman, your heart about to erupt in your chest. You can cut the time in half if you go fast enough.

So many horrible anxieties rush your mind as you follow down the path, jumping over stones and missing entire flights of the steps entirely. But you're moving at a rapid, steady pace, a treat from the sports clubs you've joined to make your uni-life more memorable. You can't help but think, with a racing heart and panting lips, about Lin collapsing somewhere - somehow, unable to call for help.

And that green light. What the fuck was that green light?

RROOOOOUGHH

An earspliting growl ruptured your eardrums. It's sound was chasmic and ferocious, animalistic-- yet deathly uncanny. It stopped your heart dead in your chest, slowed time, caught you off guard as your head turned to where the sound came from, your foot in the air as you were caught in the middle of a jump.

The roar was animalistic. But it didn't sound like an animal.

It sounded like...

Just as your eyes turned, in this slowed moment, you saw a flicker of flowing green, unnatural as it warped behind a shady, black figure. It was human, glowing, setting two black eyes on you from the dark.

You screamed, missing your landing, your ankle rolling in distress as it collided unnaturally with the ground. Unnatural, as you slipped down the paths stairs, unnatural as you rolled down the steps and cried. Unnatural, as a firehouse gusto of wind overcame you, unnatural, as you felt terrifying arms encapsule your body. Unnatural, as with a hearty crunch of leavs and sticks, you found yourself pinned to the ground before the giant bone fire your club lit back at the campsite.

Unnatural as you peeked your eyes open to find... Lin Lie?

Lin stared down at you with dark, unreadable eyes, his lips downturn, both of your hands captured above your head with a single palm. You were breatheless. There was this teal aura whipping and flickering in the air around him. You watched it leak out of his skin like sweat and take flight like whimsical plasma. How his face was still cast in a dark, heavy shadow despite the glow of the fireplace. How his hoodie was torn poorly off his body, ripped in devilish places as the fabric stringed about like a useless accessory.

His body was glistening with sweat, and you could finally see how broad and muscular he was. He was cosmic, built like a Greek god, chiseled finely in some holy defile of purity, as you clenched in your panties immediately. His scent was strong as it floated with his aura, the smell of these odd, almost pheromone like scents dripping off his body. It made you squint and shudder off a breath.

But you couldn't look away from those broad shoulders, that barn-like chest, how his arms carried all the force and the raw powerful to put you out of your pitiful misery.

Aderaline was losing in you body, as you could suddenly feel how fucking badly your ankle burned. "A-Ahh," you whimpered out, breathless and afraid.

All of Lin Lie's body helped him push out of a deathly, terrorizing grunt, it spilled out of the bowels of hell, trilling with an animalistic flare.

You whimpered even more, unaware of how your eyes began to water. You squirmed helplessly, flinching to not upset up, as you mustered up all of your courage to cry, "Luh... L-Lin... What's gotten into you," you wailed.

He growled over uou again, sinking his head closer. You squeaked and flinched away, shutting your eyes deathly tight. Your breath was sucked out of your body as you felt him suck in a strong gust of air. It blew cold against your neck, a direct contract to the deep huff that he released on your neck, it was hot enough to burn your skin. It sent tingles of fire down your body where it met you, as when you looked down at it, surges of green plasma flowed down the waves of your body.

"Unngh haa--" it drew out your voice, the surge of energy forcing a vulnerable whimper out into the air. He breathed deep and doggishly against you like this, each time making your knees rattle, your thighs lock themselves tight.

Your head tilts back at the bonfire, your body drowning in the passionate plasma. It made your neurons fire, your pussy to throb, combined eith the raw smell of him, your mind was becoming hazy. "L-Lin! Get off muh-- me," you gasped out, feeling ever the more light headed.

Lin opened his mouth, but a fire of passionate mandarin slew out his lips. "Zhū shén fā, wǒ wúfǎ tíng xiàlái... Zhū shén fāshì, wǒ kěwàng nǐ."

by the gods, I cannot stop. by the gods, I long for you.

He boomed it in your ears, his voice deep and chasmic, it withered and hissed, echoed twice within itself, present with a glorious entity. Something straight out of a cheesey c-drama, yet it flickered devilishly before your eyes. He boomed with authority in thus moment Whatever it is that he said, your sanity was taken with it. You gasped erotically, sickeningly.

He boomed.

As if he were a god.

You lost it, tears flying out of your eyes, drowning in an array of endless desire, letting those sweet plasmas to caress your skin, letting yourself give way to that holy voice, letting your body limp like the helpless ragdoll you were. You were set aflame everywhere, the fear of his strength made you impossibly wet. This was something you didn't even know about yourself.

Lin's powerful hands rolled you onto your side by your hips. You slumped over, sliding your knee up, hiking your ass up in the process. You tried to pick your body up, with your hands, but you felt him sink onto his forearm behind you, his other hand cupping your chin.

You sniffled and whimpered in his warm palm, as it slipped up to hold your face, his large thumb wiping your under eyes.

His body was so close to yours. His face and lips so dear to your skin. You could feel his heat, feel it as he tilted his head, voice deep in your ears. He hushes, "Nǐ chàndǒu ba, wǒ de tùzǐ……wǒ xià dào nǐle ma? Wǒ xiǎng hé nǐ zuò'ài……wǒ xiǎng zài nǐ de zǐgōng lǐ bō xià yī kē shén de zhǒngzǐ..."

You're trembling, my rabbit... Did I scare you? I want to make love to you... I want to plant a god's seed in your womb.

You shake, slobbering out, "I-I... I want to... Please... I want to see Lin... What-- What have you done to Lin-- please... Lin.. Let me see your face." Your run down of mythology helped you deduce some god had possessed Lin. But you couldn't exactly figure out which one. Chinese Mythology was what got you to join this club. Lin himself hosted it, and it was filled with wonder.

But your brain was foggy with needy trembles and whims of sex and fear. You could feel Lin's broad chest against your side. The god turns your head to face him, and from the shadows of his face, you see Lin's hooded eyes glimmer with untapped zeal.

"For I am Lin,"

"Yīnwèi wǒ shì Lín,"

"And Shao Lao, who has saved this body,"

"For I have reborn him, and given him life. Therefore, once a full moon, Shao Lao owns it."

"This vessel hungers for you. My Lin.. I, Lin Lie, hunger to drop seed in you. The seed of gods and men,"

His voice echoes, two voices pouring out at once. One was the roar of a dragon, hissing in mighty mandarin, the other was Lin's, booming with prowess and power. Every word, it doubled like so.

Your hips buckled, your eyes heavy.

"S-Shao Lao," your memory flickered from Lin's passionate teachings, "The Dragon god slain by K'un-L'un, walking the earth without a heart-- resurrected by Yu-Ti, t-trialed to die again and again at the hands of t-the Iron Fists? That they may gain p-power through your deaths?" You spit out, trembling under the dragon's stare. It cackles delightfully at your words, well pleased as it leans down to rub it's nose against your neck.

Despite it being Lin, insides it's body, you can feel it's cosmic shift, noting that in this second, it was fully Shao Lao. You moan out, and it takes a deep sniff in the crook of your neck. He can smell how horny you are. Your panties are wet with slick, drenched to uselessly stick to your pussy like a wet bathing suit. Shao Lao is pleased by the scent, releasing deep, strained breaths.

"Yes, little one."

"B-But... What does a such a god want with me? Come now, S-Shao Lao... Breed me tomorrow, or the next day, where I will be ready to take care of you," you manage out, sweaty in his embrace.

The Dragon cackles, slipping a hand up your tank top, hot fingers trailing up your stomach and pushing up your bra, cupping your breast. Your nipple is hard already. He simply pulls and teases it.

"Wise, hare. The full moon will not arrive tomorrow or the next night. Neither would it any night but tonight. You cannot trick me. This vessel cries for your womb. And I, I am delighted by your wisdom and beauty. You have sealed your fate, you have interested me more. Behold, your your trickery has planted you in deep water,"

He growls out. Hearing Lin and the mandarin dragon echo such words in unison had your eyes rolling back, mouth agape. The dragon played with your nipples, squeezing them between rough fingers, dragging a hot, fiery tongue up your neck. You shudder and mewl out, your eyes already dancing between the clouds.

The dragon hums, a pleased trill escaping Lin's plump, sweet lips.

"Amuse me, rabbit. Why do you resist when your body aches with need? What do you gain except frustration?"

You giggle, gulping, "I waste a god's time and gain his fury..."

You hear a fiery rattle burn through the dragon's throat.

"Then shall I meet you with a heavy hand."

The Dragon scoops you up into Lin's gorgeous biceps, the crackling shadows around his face just hazy enough for you to see the face eating grin the dragon bares. You shudder, as it carries you into his den, or more commonly known as Lin's tent. He pitched his closest to the bus and farthest from everyone else, the rest of the tents in his circle were MJ's and Peter's.

The Dragon carries you into the teal tent, where you see shredded rope and mountains of bottled water stacked on the side. His tent was in utter disarray, but the Dragon pays it no mind as he drops you down on the plush sleeping bag. He undresses, and your eyes behold the gorgeous stature of Lin's bare body. He's wonderfully built, stockier than a barn, a giant powerhouse of pure muscle with a small waist. His cock is glorious, eight inches with a fat tip, his thickness stocky and grand. Your mouth watered.

Shao Lao kicks some of discarded rope, laughing,

"This vessel believed it could restrain me, prevent me from hunting you... Indeed, it is true that I would have not taken you. But you came down the mountain for him, did you not? It was you who sold this fate..."

You gasp in disbelief, but it doesn't fester as the dragon pulls your shirt from over your head, watching your breasts as unlatches your bra. Your pretty titties fly out, and you watch as a pink tongue emerges from the hazy black fog.

"You do, wish to be devoured, little human?"

You look away, "Is Lin okay?"

"This vessel only wishes for your safety."

"Ah... Then... Breed me, Shao Lao."

Behind the smoke, you can see the dragon's eyes widen. But something about it was so uncharacteristic for the proud serpent. Was it? Lin? You blink in surprise. Just as you notice the change, it disappears.

Shao Lao undresses you briskly, picking you up when he needs to, and you help him by kicking off your panties and pants when he drags them down. The dragon bares a deep, pleased sigh at the sight of you, admiring the way your body ebbs and flows, the softness of your skin, adoring your shape. He parts your legs with rough hands, you brace yourself as Shao Lao, in Lin's heavenly body, dives into your neck.

The Dragon nips and suckles your neck, using Lin's whole tongue to do so. Adverse to the way a human would do it. It's such a small detail you notice that makes your mind hazy, a reminder that a true god is trying to fuck you. He cups the other side of your neck tightly, forcing you into his sharp love bites and vigorous slurps.

He does so hungrily, diving out with unsatisfied huff.

"This is not enough,"

He hisses with all of his belly.

He drags all of his tongue down your collarbone and to your breasts, slurping one of your nipples up. It suckles and twirls it's blazing hot tongue around it, letting go with a pop as it swells around the underside, sucking you in fill his mouth, all while his freehand squeezes and teases your other.

You shiver and whimper, feeling his teeth against your skin. His jaw restricts, threatening to bite you. You know that if he did, you'd be disfigured. "Mm-aah," your pussy throbs.

He grunts worser, releasing you. His grunt is filled with pure agitation, his shadowy eyes darkened in a crazied haze.

"This human body restricts me... This is not enough."

It puff and heaves with anger, and with a strong vigor, the dragon slides his tongue down the valleys of your breast, down your ribcage, down your belly, over your womb, through your hair. And as he grabs your thighs, pulling them up in ease with thick hands, the dragon eats up your cunny in one full lick.

You whine as he uses all of Lin's tongue to part open your labia. The hot, fat muscle is fully flat against your hymen before it slides up and trills against your clit. You buck up into it with a cry, "S-Shao Lao!"

The Dragon hisses gleefully like a snake. It vibrates its tongue with ease against you, trilling up with a vigor as if it were merely rolling an 'r'. You jerk with all of you, as you reach and grab chunks of Lin's short raven locks. For a moment, sweet eyes gaze lovingly at you, but you fail to see it before it's overriden.

The Dragon licks up your clit with all of its tongue, the flatliness bigger than your clit as it strokes you once then twice, before he pulls a little away to speak.

"Tender, sweet, and juicy..."

Shao Lao burries his nose into your pussy, taking a deep sniff. The green energy sends tingles against your body. The dragon leans up, rolling out his tongue with a soft gag, there, from the midst of the smoke, you can see something round and orange glow, slipping out from the back of his throat. It slides down his tongue, revealing itself to be a little glowing orb, as it's guided right into your hole. The dragon leans forward, digging into your cunt as it forces it deep into your walls.

It sets you aflame, you grow impossibly more wet, drowning our from the magic of whatever it was that was placed within you. Your cervix sucks it up into your womb. And in awe, you can see it glow beneath your skin.

The Dragon laughs,

"I can perform much greater trembles than this in my original, blessed body. You truly are one graced human. You do not know the merit you are being bestowed, if you did, you would be worshiping me now... Paying hom--"

You pull Lin's hair, shoving your cunny back in the dragon's face, watching it disappear beneath the shadows. It narrows dangerous eyes on you. You only return with a grin.

The Dragon reaches, grabbing your wrist with a crushing pressure. You wince, pitifully letting go. As Shao Lao sits up, broad chest flexed forward with prestige. His darkened eyes glimmer with ferocity. Eyes that read, "you should not have done that".

Shao Lao drops your wrists, using Lin's mighty and quick hands to grab both of your ankles. He stands up with them, and with a scated cry, your body jerks forward, your legs held up in the air. He pulls higher, higher until your neck is the only thing keeping you on the ground. "Aah! Shao Lao! I'm so--" you can't even get a chance to speak, as Shao wraps his bulging biceps around your hips, dropping you in the candlestick pose, except your knees rest your legs on his shoulders, your hands shaking, helplessly grabbing chunks of raven locks.

With a deep, burling growl, Shao Lao buries himself into your cunny, trilling against your clit at an unforgiving pace, rippling his tongue against you in a fluttering frenzy, your throbbing clit swelling under the abuse. You cry out, saliva spat out in the intensity, as the way he's forced you down, you can't do much but claw at the dragon's biceps, or tug at his hair.

"S-suh-- Ahh! Shao L-lao! Ooh," you cry, your legs shooting up with an electric spark before slopping back down. Your toes arch, your breathing is constricted, overstimulated tears prick your eyes.

He'll only stop his devious defilement to suck and slurp up your clit in intervals between flickering his speedy tongue against it. The abuse complimented by Lin's fat juicy lips as the insides of them run over your clit inbetween slurps. He'll pull back to run a flat tongue side to side vigorously on your clit, only to slurp it up, suck on it, and smooth right back into flickering.

You yank intensely on Lin's hair, weak tears streaming down your face as your thrust into an intense orgasm. You legs jerk and fly up into the air, kicking at nothing before shooting straight up and flexing, flexing as you curse out into the sky. They never meet back down, as after your orgasm, Shao Lao is still on you just as intensely, not allowing you a break for your high. Your moans turn into frantic, pant-filled wails, slobbering sobs dribbling down your forehead and into your hair.

You rut into his tongue over and over again, trying to squirm but your hips are locked in place by meaty biceps. You're forced to look at the shadowed over pink-tipped nose Lin was always equipped with, buried into your vulva. You're bullied into another orgasm, cumming with all of your body again, he doesn't rest while you ride out your high.

You plead, while you cum hard, barreling out like a frantic shout, "G-Grace-cious-- Shao Lao pleas-suhh! Please forgive m-me! P-Please-- M-Mighty-- gaw--"

You can't continue as you groan out, finally feeling that fat tongue stop, laying flat against you. You sigh out, feeling your neck ache, and your senses return, your legs sag forward to your head.

"Mmuh! Sh-Shao Lao... I beg... aah... Please... forgive me-- I'm so... so aah... sorry... I'm sorry, S-Shao," you slur out, already fucked out of your mind.

By the grace of god, he releases your hips, slowly guiding you back onto the floor. You can feel your spine cry out with glee, your eyes rolling back with relief. Shao kneels between your legs still, biceps meaty and glowing, his arms folded forbidden, glaring down at you with serious eyes. Ever the reminiscent of Lin's face scolding and disappointed stare, shaming you of your very existence.

The god is still not settled.

You meekly reach and touch his elbow with the tip of your fingers.

"My god... My Shao Lao, please don't let this offend you... Remember your selfishless desire to bless me with the seed of a god's... Show me your true self, your kindness... Please take me another way to subside your rage... S-Show me... Show me who you are," you whisper-mewl, a whorish expression of need overtaking your face.

Shao grins.

He slams his large palms on either side of your head, your flinch, the ground shakes beneath you. Your body is sent aflame in shivers, excitement dribbling throughout your body. Your hands greedily trace down Lin's gorgeous body, feeling his gorgeous chest, it's bouncy and built. You moan out under Shao's stare. He's not moving again.

You whimper, "God hurry up Shao."

He laughs, finally taking in your sweet lips, slurping up your tongue, burning with passionate friction. He leans upright as you melt into the kiss, slapping down your titties, your nipples arching into them. He sits you up with ease, grabbing your ass, kissing your neck as he commands, "Turn around, bunny."

Your eyebrows quirked, too fucked out of your mind as you obeyed, slipping back to turn around, your ass popped back for him to enjoy. You sprawl out almost immediately, doing the cat yoga stretch, arms out infront of you, palms against the floor, ass up and perked.

You can hear Lin hum deliciously, his voice ebbing with lust.

Something's off.

You ask, "My dragon, does this pose please you?"

"It does, my bunny," speaks, rubbing your ass with both hands.

You grin, "Does it please your vessel as well?"

He pauses, then speaks again, "It pleases Lin greatly."

Lin Lie.

That was you wasn't it?

Did Shao switch so he could have this?

You stay quiet with your knowledge, a purr of excitement building up. The knowlege intensifies the feeling of Lin's fat tip kissing your entrance. You moan in anticipation, rocking against it, as he grabs full control of your hips. He waists no time to plunge in, his hard, fat cock slips right in from how wet you are. It doesn't even hurt either, as you bottom out eight inches of burly, stocky thickness in milliseconds.

You wail, toes and fingers curling up. He pulls back even a little a slips right out of you, releasing a charmastic laugh. Lin... It really was you wasn't it. He slips in, your walls expanding in fullness, the feeling enlarging and all compassing. Your hymen muscles burn and enjoy the stretch, both loving and hating it, blending into a delicious mixture as he slowly thrusts in and out.

The plunge is deep into your walls, stimulating the farthetes depths of you with a fat thickness. It's a sultry sensation, as your jaw slacks, as a marvelous gasp whines out of you.

"Mmh, you like that? Shao Lao's fiery cock," he hisses out.

You giggle, "Yes, m-mighty Shao Lao."

He starts to fuck into you now, speeding up with a haste precision. You moan, but it's interrupted as Lin slaps a heavy hand against your ass. The stung is sharp, burns with a hiss before it's washed away with the tides of pleasure. "I'll show you, Shao Lao's fury," he moans out.

With one hand he grips your hip in a vice, the other comes crashing down on your red cheek as he fucks hard and deep into you. His hard, hot rod slices you open, as you stretch and flex about him. He can feel your pulse when he digs in deep, how your pussy squeezes vice around him. "Aah-- Fuck, r-rabbit," he's trying so hard to keep up the facade. But you already know if Shao Lao was here, he'd slam into you relentlessly, not caring if your knees gave out; without moaning once, as he fucked you into the ground.

That's not to say Lin isn't doing you justice right now. You can barely handle this speed, as you whine and cry, as he penetrates your poor pussy, fucking into it with barely any care, slipping around and enjoying the clap of your pretty ass. He cracks a punishing blow against your already red and bruised cheek, enjoying the way you welp.

"Aah-- Mm- Come take this God's cock," he grabs you with both hips and slams you back into him. You jerk onto your palms with a breathy mewl, as he begins to pump you on his dick like a fleshlight.

"Fuck-fuck-- Lin!" You cry out, your orgasm surprising you. What sent you prematurely was how his tip slammed your cervix, the sensation painfully delicious, it sent you into a frenzy.

He didn't give in, as he dropped his head back, using his pumping biceps to pull you all the way off, just to carelessly slam you back down. "Gimme' your damn hands," Lin hisses, ans obediently you give him one at a time. He grabs your wrists, pulling you back, forcing all your weight to be dependent on him.

You jerked about like a ragdoll, overstimulation riddled in your body. Despite this being Lin, you could still feel his energetic plasma flicker around. He was supercharged and boundless.

Lin started to precisely bump his tip down against your g-spot on his way to your cervix, fucking up into you to meet in the middle, loving the way your walls spasmed from the aftermath of your orgasm. Your moans were useless screams by now, the sensation of your speedy abuse complimented the pusles from your swollen, defeated clit.

You whine, "'M cummin' M-- Cumming!!"

"S-shi-- (Y/nn)," he whines.

With one satisfying slam, Lin shoots hot rods of cum into your womb right as you splatter, coating the orange orb in your body with your cum, as it sucks up Lin's. You feel the orb vibrate in your womb and it glides down to your cervix, feeling it push back against Lin's cock.

You gasp, "L-Lin! Pull out!"

He obediently listens, laying you down and slipping right off. With a heavy grunt, your push the growing orb out your body, as it expands in your vagina, before slipping out the size of a large duck egg. You frantically look back, eyes wide in shock.

Right between your legs is a duck egg sized, orange orb.

Your eyes flicker up at Lin, his eyes are darkened and hazed over.

"S-Shao Lao," you cry out in fear.

He crashes as strong hand against your ass. You yelp, but he smooths it over with the carress of his palm.

"Why are you surprised, my hare? Have I not fulfilled my blessing?"

"I'm-- I'm on birth control! That's the only reason I said yes, I can't raise a baby," you huff.

"Not a human child. You will hatch another god. She will know her purpose the moment she hatches, and will take flight to it... We dragon's do not dwell on sentimentality the way humans do... Our affection for our birth is shown in our magic and prowess... Not hanging around as useless, crying, flesh... Your daughter will bless you, much like Lin as the Iron Fist."

Your eyes widening in shock, unable to process which sentence was crazier than the last.

"What the fuck are you talking about!"

"You are immortal now, (Y/n) (L/n). Your have bore the seed of the next generationg of gods."

"What!"

You heard the voices warp, as Lin speaks, "(Y/n) I didn't know this would happen."

"What... The fuck... " you whisper, blinking, "so do I sit on it until then- o-or?" A humiliated flush covers your cheeks as your turn back slowly, carefully sitting down on your sore, stretched out ass.

"I will guide her in the realm of the gods. She cannot stay here on Earth. But she will return to grant you one blessing, before she starts her eternal journey at home... Where she belongs. We dragon's are not meant to be bound to humans... But I am. For the--"

You gasp, "Wait!"

"Yes, my hare?"

You point at Lin's body, "He's The Immortal Iron Fist?"

"Yes. He is my vessel."

Your slaw lacks.

"Your friends will be arriving soon. I must take my leave, my hare. I will breed you again, for I must spread my seed--"

"What!"

"Until then, I implore you to enjoy my vessel..."

The smoke and plasma mix together spining above Lin's head, and out of it comes a glorious dragon. Heat surges the room, as the flying serpent is made of pure fire, it swallows the egg up in an instant, turning back from wince it came and descending into the cloud of smoke into Lin's body.

You watch Lin surge and gasp, no longer drowned in a shadow haze. His skin flushed and bright, his lips bright red and bruised, the taste of pussy still lingering on his taste buds. You watch his shaggy, sweaty hair lean down over his raven locks, his sweet eyes wide with shock.

No one says a word.

You slowly drop your head down onto the sleeping bag.

"What the fuck just happened?"

There's a this guilty look on his face as he sits next to your feet. "I'm sorry about that I-- Trust me, (Y/n), I did everything in my power to stop that. Shit, once Shao Lao learned I like you... In that way... He sort of... Listen I'll tell him off, me or him, we won't ever see you again. This will not happen again I will assure you."

You pause, quietly staring at the top of the tent. "Nah," is all you whisper.

He perks up, "What?"

"Don't go away... I sort of... I like you Lin... I tried to deny it, but I do. I was so worried about you, you know... I'm sorry for... My part in this... If I said no then we wouldn't be here," you sigh.

He gasps, "Oh god, no, I should be apologizing.. No matter what I'm the one who should've--"

"I'm not mad, Lin," you flush.

"I yet you're saying that now but--"

You wince, "For fucks sake, Lin! I'm saying--" you stop, watching as he leans forward, eyes plagued with worry. You pause and correct your tone, "I'm saying I liked it... I liked it. I mean its kind of an honor to be fucked by Shao Lao... I wanted it, and I don't really care about the damn dragon god baby- if its anything like its father it'll fuck off and be conceited-- I just... I want my bachelors, and... I don't mind... Seeing you, m-more after this."

Lin stares at you with bewilderment.

You squeak ans hide underneath your palms, "God this is too surreal."

He gulps, "W-Welcome to the superhero squad?" He tries to be funny.

"Fuck you," you're mad, but, a grin splits your face open, man your pussy feels good. You were stunning in the after glow. You'd do it again, with Shao Lao. And as you glance up at Lin, who flashes an amazed smile at you. You'd do it again with Lin too

He lays down next to you, folding his arms on his chest. "You're pretty kinky, (Y/n). You always seemed so regal," he whispers it. His face bright red.

"I can't believe you're Iron Fist," you mumble. You look over at him, he joins you. "You think my dragon'll grant me with riches," you blink.

"Mm," he looks up in thought, "Maybe. They usually gift items. Like my family's heritage is a sword. Maybe... Maybe you'll get a lucky necklace that makes extra money grativate in your life." He blinks at you.

"Mm... Maybe that's shallow thing to ask," you sigh

"Nothin' wrong with money. I like money," Lin speaks. "Besides, you can ask for something else after the second dragon you make," he giggles, leaning up and wrapping arms around you.

"Yeah I could-- Hey! S-Second," you whisper, laying hands on his broad shoulders.

He chuckles heartily, caressing your face with his thumb. "You okay? How's your body?"

"It's fine actually, it doesn't hurt surprisingly? Maybe the egg's got something to do with it," you whisper.

He sighs, "Good. I'm glad you're safe." You relax with Lin, as he drops his forehead down against yours, releasing a relieved sigh. You revel in the soft tranquility, its a great contrast to the endless brutality of Shao Lao.

God what the is your life going to be like now with these two. Or well one, who knows if Shao'll be back next full moon. He's got a baby to take care of. Lin helps you onto your side and spoons you, wrapping a warm hand around you, cupping a titty while he's there. He buries himself into your shoulder, running his nose along your edges. You flush.

You squeak out, "Why's this more embarrassing than the..." Although you can't finish your sentence, he chuckles, but he doesn't flee from giving you affection.

"Actually--"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)," You hear Peter shriek from distance.

The two of you shout, "Oh fuck!"

You scramble to get dressed, but you're too weak to stand. He ushers you into the sleeping bag once his pants are back on, and he tries to wipe away the cum stains with his shredded hoodie. When the flurry of voices searching for you get closer.

Lin frantically unzips the tent,sticking his arm out as he waves bashfully to everyone. He's mer with a flashlight the the face. "She's fine! She's here! She-- uh... Ran back to," he doesn't have to finish it. Everyone can get the vibe from here.

Afterall Lin's disheveled, sweaty, and shirtless. It's MJ who laughs first, mostly in a mixture of pure horror and relief. Then the rest of the club follows short, but Peter's quick to dismiss everyone.

"Alright! Shows over go off to bed guys," he cries. MJ slicks off into Peter's tent, and Peter's takes the time to frantically rush over to Lin. His eyes are bulged out, terror in his voice, "Dude? Does she know? Is she okay? Did Shao do anything?"

Lin shushes him, glancing back you with a reassuring smile before whispering, "She knows I'm IronFist, and it's a crazy story that I'll tell you later - But Pete' she's immortal now too."

He shrieks, "What!"

[f0ofishies]

first times w/ bllk men. pt.2

To think you could pull the Italian soccer player was a far fetch, but no.. you've been dating Marc Snuffy for a few weeks now. Honestly, he's been such an upgrade to the past relationships you've had, considering you were only a few years younger than him.

He's such a well-spoken man. Speaking with such intellect could make you go haywire, might even turn you on. But, you'd never admit that, no no.. you couldn't let him think how sex-craved you are about him, considering how polite he is.

You'd been invited to one of the gatherings for Ubers, a plus-one with him. He even took the time to get you a new outfit on the ordeal, "Baby, I need to measure.. could you—" You looked up at him, then quickly held your hands up. "Oh right.." He did all the measurements for your body before you could get a new outfit tailored for it.

His calloused palm held the measuring tape across your hips, shit..! He was such a respectful man. He didn't know the effect his hands all over felt so nice, biting your lip in the process as his hand on your lower back guided you over somewhere. "Amore mio, are you okay?" He whispered into your ear, his words left a trail of shiver down your back.

"Don't worry, 'm fine.. marc.." You stare at those orange colored eyes of his— he proceeded to give you a small smile. "I promise you tonight is going to be great." He held your chin up, it was almost like he was holding back to kiss you.

As you were about to tiptoe– he'd pull away. The hushed voices of him and the tailor could be heard, but all you heard was the fast-paced beating of your heart.

The event itself was boring, most conversed in Italian.. not that you can't understand at all, you weren't fluent in the language at all. Marc was there with you, sticking close by knowing full well you had not fully met the rest of the members of Ubers. More small talk and more made you even more annoyed– at the second and the way your lovely boyfriend was caressing your thigh like nothing.

You bit your lip as you tapped his shoulder. He pulled away from talking and raised an eyebrow, squeezing your thigh. "Marc, don't do that.." You whispered close, only letting him hear your voice.

"Hmm.. but cuore mio..?" He slid his hand to your upper thigh as you trembled. "Don't you get it.. you're making me.." His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then his eyes held a glint in them.

You swear you didn't mean to turn him on, you knew how much of a rational man he was. But the fact he had pulled you two back to your hotel– "Marc, love..?"

He crashed his lips onto yours, feeling his tongue slip past your mouth. "Mmph— what's gotten into you..?" The words echoed along the hotel room as he pulled away. "I can't handle it anymore, l'anima gemella.. I need you." You swear you felt yourself clenched around his words.

"Agh—!" The groan you let out as he was taking his time to prep you was making you go berserk. "Marc, baby.. I'm ready for you.. please just fuck me!" Words spewing out of you like you weren't about to climax the second time tonight. "fuck you..? don't ever call that.. we're.." You gasped once more as you felt his engorged tip pressing onto your hole.

"sshit– Marc..!" Your eyes widened as he pressed on further, fuck it was such a stretch for you. "we're.." another inch passed against your walls. "making.." another one– and when he finally bottoms out of you. "...love." Your legs on either side of your face as he thrusts slow and deep made you scream louder.

"Cazzo— mmngh.. la mia dolce metà.. you're being so sweet.. to me."

The egocentric English football man? Chris Prince, the world probably already knew him.. but you know him best. You've been by his side for as long as you know, and yet– you weren't dating at all.

The white-haired male had invited you out of nowhere for drinks, you didn't mind.. but it did pulled you out of your work even earlier than ever.

You found him at the entrance of a private bar, not even realizing how much celebrities were even counted here. You couldn't help but be amazed.

"Damn, you dragged me out here.. for drinks.." You teased the man as he chuckled. "What can I say, I like to treat the women in my life with the utmost—" "Shut your mouth, dickhead." The way his mouth dropped so fast made you giggle at him. "Gee, you know I'm treating you right now?"

You did know that, the way you held a damn martini was way more expensive than what you'd even pay for a night out. "Yes, thanks, Chris.." Your voice cooed at him— "Now tell me why'd you drag me out here.."

You burst out in more laughter by the hours gone by, Chris was just updating you about his life– from his football team, Manshine City, then his family, even going as far about the blue-lock program. "Can't believe those kids could catch up to you, huh?"

The way his face shifted into a pout, like a sad golden retriever, made your heart skip a beat. "Hey, they've gone on a hell lot of training to be good." You just hummed at his words, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "Seems like your life has been chaotic as ever."

Chris lowered his arm, grabbing onto the stool leg– then he effortlessly pulled your stool closer to his. The way you turned a bit shy at that. Honestly, you've forgotten how he has no personal boundaries with anyone. "And yours, babe?" He called you out as you huffed.

Fuck, you didn't knew how long you've been making out with Chris. You'd never done this with him, maybe because of all the drinks you've drank. "Chris—" You pulled away as a string of saliva connected you both.

Chris internally grunted at the way you've been straddling his lap. His big palm caressing your ass, grabbing the fat of it. You let out a small chuckle at his possessiveness. "Ffuck, doll.. so fucking sexy on my lap.." After that comment, a fire rose withing you as you rolled your hips down.

He was loud, groaning in your ear— "Baby, look at you.. all ready for me.." You've found yourself laying down at the backseat— the rich leather seats must've been stained from your previous climaxes. "Chris— agh..! not there..!"

You felt his pesky hands already under your underwear, touching you in all the right places. "You know.. I've been fantasizing about you for ages.." You didn't even properly listen to him, loving the pleasure you're experiencing.

"Fantasizing about this body— and nobody compares from you.." That's when your breath hitched as you gripped his neck. The feeling of your arms around him made his dick throb more than ever. "What are you saying..?" You huffed, wrapping your legs around his hips– your crotch angled with his.

"I'm saying I'm in love with you, you idiot." That's when you felt it, it led to your heart skipping another beat once more. "Really?" You heard the zipper of his pants slipped bringing, that fucking girthy of a dick he had.

"Just look at it, it's so swollen all because of you, my love.." Another clenched by you accommodating his girth– could you even fit him?

"Watch it, baby— I'm going to take what's rightfully mines from the start."

[churipu]

hi ! can i request some headcanons of jjk men w a shy sweetheart gf ? any characters will do as long gojo's included, thank you sm !

jjk men & their sweetheart girlfriend

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, choso x fem! reader

warnings. college! au, just sit back and enjoy <;33

note. hii anon, love this request. for instance i always think abt jjk men with the most boisterous personalities having the sweetest partners, ty for requesting, hope you like it <;33

GOJO SATORU. honestly, i can see him taking interest in someone sweet and shy. i feel like he will gush over you a lot, he loves seeing your shy nature — he finds you really, really, really cute. so he can't help but poke teases at you sometimes knowing you can do nothing but to go along with it.

gojo first met you when you helped an abandoned kitten at the back of campus. he was out to find a place to relax and he saw you tending to a ginger colored kitten, feeding it and holding it like it's the most fragile being in the world. from that day on, he settled his interest in you.

he watched you caress the kitten full of love, mumbling out incoherent words and feeding it back to life. and when you left the kitten inside the box you made for it, gojo approached the feline. smiling out, intrigued.

gojo found himself asking people about you. geto, shoko, anyone and every single time he asked, their answers are just too basic, such as "oh, y/n..i know her, she doesn't talk much. seems rather shy, but she's really nice." or a "y/n? she's the nicest person i know". he needed to know more about you (but was forgetting the fact that he was doing nothing to know more about you but ask people), until shoko told him he should just talk to you.

here's the thing. who wouldn't know about a white haired male, with the most alluring blue eyes, is smart, popular, and practically one whole package?

gojo was actually (genuinely) surprised when you recognized him. it was like any other day, you were playing with the same ginger feline and you took notice of him and just went, "gojo, can i help you?"

"you know me?"

you giggled, "who wouldn't?"

i swore he felt like he was on cloud nine. every day gojo and you would meet up in the same place without any compromising— the two of you just decided that the back of your campus was that place. and every single day he gets to meet you, gojo falls in love deeper.

and so one day, he just casually asks you to be his girlfriend while you were playing with the ginger who the both of you named as "butter". and you looked at him with the (possibly) reddest face you could muster out. but accepted him nonetheless.

today, he's still in love as ever. gojo sometimes wondered how someone— a sweetheart— like you accepted to be his girlfriend. he gushes over you like a kid and takes pictures and videos of you doing random things (his phone is your own personal camera). gojo spoils you a lot (he's rich rich) so if he sees something that reminded him of you, just know that he won't think twice before buying it for you.

he's such a lovesick puppy that it's concerning sometimes.

most of the time you'd tell him he doesn't need to do all that, but he insisted and gets pouty if you don't accept the gifts he got for you. he loves his sweetheart girlfriend so much people get jealous of you.

"satoru, this is too much!"

"it's never too much for you, sweetheart."

SUKUNA RYOMEN. sukuna? having a girlfriend? i feel like he's fucking boisterous and annoying when it comes to women. he's probably one of those confident star athlete at campus who always make the team every season, and is never enough with one woman.

until he met you.

sukuna never understood the concept of "love" until he finds himself a mess in front of you, until he finds himself thinking about you in his games, until he gets jealous over people hitting on you, until he finds himself looking for you amidst the crowd, until he finds himself stop trying to hook up with random girls after his games.

please help him, he's so confused with this new feeling that he initially thought he was sick and needed help. he's never really talked to you outside of lectures— sukuna who usually skips out on a lot of lectures, suddenly attended them just so he could talk to you more and get to know you more.

"ya' new here?" obviously not, sukuna just didn't know how to start a conversation with you.

it's not like he hasn't done some research about you yet, he's asked his teammates, and them telling him that you were such a sweetheart that they couldn't even have the heart to hit on you.

"oh. um..no." you tell him, not even engaging in an eye contact.

he finds you really cute, but he of course, wouldn't admit that. so he just tried poking fun at you as a form of comfort (kind of like a love language). it shocked his professors that sukuna began popping in time for lectures and is never missing out on any, when in fact he was just there for you.

most of the time, sukuna and you would talk in lectures. out of there? sukuna would be with his friends most of the time, but it doesn't mean he wasn't looking for you in every turn he goes. and in every games, he would try looking for you to see if you came to support the team (him) or not, and gets really unmotivated when he can't find you.

so one day, he just—

"you should come see me play." he's straightforward alright, and he will do anything to get you to watch him play (he wanted to show off).

and you actually showed up just at the last second of his last season playoffs, and boy oh boy, he destroyed the other team (even his own teammates were surprised). he enjoyed that game most out of every other games, simply because you were there to watch him win. he felt satisfied.

you were the first person he approached after the game. and sukuna just settled that he couldn't wait longer, he just had to make you his that very second. and you accepted.

sukuna who usually messes with woman, settled for you and changed for you. he promised himself he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he hurts you, he just hated the thought of it (but still won't admit that).

he loves how shy you still get when he grabs your hand out of the blue, caresses your face full of love, plants soft kisses on your face, hell even as simple as complimenting you. but those are the things he love about you— and how you never judged him for anything but saw the best in him when everyone could probably agree with him being the biggest asshole (before he met you).

he's just so lovesick and dedicated to you. and p.s he puts you as his wallpaper, and i feel like he probably has a private twitter or instagram account just to post about you and fangirl over you although he acts like it doesn't bother him. one time you sent him a picture of you smiling with your usual peace sign, he had to step away from his phone for a bit and began air boxing (he saved every pictures you sent him and posts them in his private account with the cheesiest captions and hundred amounts of emoji smashes), he swore it would be the death of him if you find out about his accounts.

even with all that, all he would send as a reply would just be as simple as, "cute."

CHOSO. lord, help this baby— he's clueless to his feelings. and i feel like choso would be very confused about his own feelings that he had to ask yuuji about why he was feeling like that. yuuji is like his own personal relationship helper.

i feel like choso is popular in campus, but he doesn't know he's popular so he just accepts whatever people do and give to him as a sign of friendship. until one day he bumps into you, and you dropped your books, sounds cliche but it actually happened.

and choso helped you by grabbing a few fallen books, handing it to you. when you looked up to thank him properly, choso didn't know what to say or do. he just felt odd. like his heart's beating so fast that he can't help but to clutch on his white colored hoodie.

"thank you.." you bowed your head down in appreciation, and then left just before he could say anything.

choso blinked feverishly and wondered if he had caught the flu, so when he met up with yuuji, he went, "i think i'm sick."

when yuuji asked why, choso explained everything that happened, not forgetting to add a little cherry on top by saying, "i think that girl i bumped into gave me the flu."

yuuji laughs out loudly, almost crying. and choso is just there, wondering if what he said was that funny to yuuji, and to drive him further into his confusion, yuuji told him that it's probably a little crush.

"how can i crush someone i just met?" choso asks.

"it just happens, i guess. like an airport crush, ever heard of em'?" that day began choso's education on love.

for a few weeks, yuuji had to teach him everything about his feelings. and to confirm choso's crush on you, the two of them bumped into you one day (thank the heavens), and choso was quick to your aid when yuuji was the only person to slip and fall, while you were standing well with no harm done.

yuuji then understood about choso's little huge crush on you, even yuuji thought you were such a sweetheart he couldn't help but to gush a little over you— until choso stared at him, brows furrowed in jealousy.

"i don't like her like that, don't worry...i just find her to be such a sweetheart!"

choso was relieved when yuuji said that. then after that began yuuji's plan on trying to get choso and you together— which consisted in silly little and cliche pranks, such as sending a text to you then saying that he got the wrong person. or pressing the call button then saying he pressed it by accident.

you had to be honest, you went along with it, sometimes even holding up the call up to a few seconds just to hear both yuuji and choso talking in the background about how the plan isn't working.

well, they thought wrong. it worked.

yuuji honestly gave up midway and just handed it to choso to do whatever he wants to, so choso just comes up to you one day in front of yuuji too and straight up told you that he likes you. and yuuji has never felt so shocked in his life that everything would have ended if he told choso to do whatever the guy wants to earlier (yuuji thought choso was too pussy to do it).

and you accepted.

it was like a double kill for yuuji that day, but nonetheless he was happy for both you and choso.

still going strong after two years, choso still has the same amount of love and admiration for you (if not, even more). he still thinks you're such a sweetheart and he can't help but to get overprotective of you whenever you both go out. he's so proud of having you by his side, and is probably the type of boyfriend to spoil his girlfriend rotten but doesn't realize he's spoiling her.

"cho, too much." you tell him, a little nervous upon seeing how many plates of dessert he ordered.

"you love desserts," he said the obvious.

"i do, thank you," you didn't have the heart to tell him that it was probably too much for you, which proves how much of a sweetheart you are and you ended up finishing them all with his help, "that was great, maybe not so much in the future?"

choso wondered if he did the wrong thing, but you convinced him that it wasn't.

(spoiler: he still buys you a lot of dessert even after that).

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Anything for You

daemon x daughter!reader 

Summary: Daemon helps settle your nerves before you go and question potential husbands. After you run out of the hall feigning an illness Daemon makes sure you are properly cared for. 

Warnings: 18+ the whole thing 😵‍💫 thigh riding, oral(f), waking up to oral, fingering, p in v, use of the word daddy which i feel belongs under the warnings, also reader is a slight crybaby 

Authors Note: I’ve taken enough psych classes to know i’m cooked 😔😮‍💨 no mention of who the mother of reader is or really any specific time in the hotd universe but reader is of age and daemon has short hair bc daemon w short hair 🧎🏼‍♀️

Word Count: 3.1k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I pout looking in the mirror as my handmaidens tie me into my new gown. It’s the perfect length and hugs my body before fanning out and flowing behind me. The detail is perfect to my wants and the silk feels like a second skin. The color is a shade darker than I wanted and I’m trying not to let it ruin my mood. Several pairs of hands smooth and braid my hair. When it comes to them pining my hair I have to clench my jaw as they press against my scalp. I wince as they step back and I get used to the amount of pressure that is slowly causing my head to throb. 

“Are you okay, Princess?” my handmaiden scrunches her brow. 

“I want my father.” my frown deepens and another one of my handmaidens runs out of the room a moment later. 

“Is there anything I can do?” another handmaiden comes to my side looking at me. I shake my head and get up to sit on my couch and wait for my father. My handmaidens once again flock to my side and offer me different drinks and snacks that I all turn away. My door opens and my father walks in. 

“Prince Daemon.” my handmaidens whisper together, quickly curtsying and padding out of my chambers. 

“What took you so long?” I whine looking up to him. 

“What’s wrong?” he stalks over to me. “I was in a meeting.” he tilts my chin up so I can look at him. 

“My dress isn’t the right color.” he lets out a chuckle at my words. My chest tightens and my eyes start to well with tears. “And my head hurts.” my voice breaks and he looks down at me with a raised brow. 

“You called me from a meeting because of your dress and your head?” he squats down to me. 

“I’m sorry,” my lip wobbles as my tears fall over the edge of my eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away and pulls me up from the couch and sits down with me in his lap. “I just wanted to look perfect for later.” my voice soft as he continues to cup my face wiping my tears away. 

“I think you look divine, sweet girl.” he presses his lips to my forehead. “All of the men here for your hand will go absolutely mad when they see you.” his hands travel down my spine and rest on my hips. 

“I don’t want any of them.” I throw my arms around his shoulders and bury my head in his neck. His arms wrap around my waist and hold me against him. 

“You don’t know them yet.” his chest rumbles with laughter. 

“I don’t want to.” I mumble into his skin. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and I scoot impossibly closer to him. 

“Stand up so I can see this gown that’s causing my beautiful princess so much distress.” he starts to lift me off of his lap. I stand between his legs and he leans back to take in my form. “What’s wrong with it?” his hands reach up and slide up my sides. His fingers squeeze into me as he turns me around. 

“It’s not the right color.” I gasp as his hands squeeze my bottom. “It’s too dark.” I purse my lips turning back to face him. 

“What would you like me to do?” he looks up to me with an amused expression. 

“Make me feel better.” I push my bottom lip out. He sighs, shaking his head and starts to lift up my skirts. He harshly tugs me onto his thigh and I squeak as my core rests against his trousers. 

“We have to be in the great hall within the hour.” he pulls me forward on his thigh. I start to move my hips against him and he presses his forehead on mine. “That’s my good girl. Taking what you need.” his fingers dig into my hips helping move me faster. 

I rest my head on his shoulder as I hump against his thigh. I whimper into his neck and he starts to lift my skirts up digging his fingers into the soft flesh of my thighs. His thumb quickly circles my covered bud and I whine into his neck. “Please daddy,” his other hand stays on my hip and grinds me down. My eyes screw shut as my hips jerk feverishly in search of pleasure. 

“Gods look at you.” he mutters, swirling his thumb faster. I shake in his arms as my spine goes straight. My high rips through me while high pitched gasps pour from my lips. I pant into his neck and he slowly trails his fingers up and down my thighs. “That’s my good girl.” he smiles against my forehead as I come down from my pleasure. 

“I don’t want to wed any of the men downstairs.” I cling on to his neck. 

“I wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to.” I lift up from his neck and look at him. “We still have to go and pretend.” I frown at his words. “If you’re good I’ll give you a reward after.” his eyes darken. 

“I’m always good.” I purse my lips. 

“Lying is naughty.” he squeezes my waist with a raised brow. “I’m going to get your handmaidens to come back in here and freshen you up and then I’ll escort you to the great hall.” he lifts me off of his thigh and fixes my skirts. He presses a kiss to my brow and leaves my chambers.

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

I walk into the great hall holding onto my fathers arm tightly. I try to keep my eyes forward while we walk between the crowd of men and take our seats on the dais. My eyes snagged on a couple of the men but my father keeps me moving forward. He takes a seat next to me and studies the men in front of us and I look on at them with a soft smile, surprised to see that I find a couple of them handsome. 

“What happened to not wanting to entertain any of these men?” my father whispers into my ear. I turn to him with flushed cheeks and he smiles. “I still won’t allow you to marry any of them.” his words have a bite and I nod my head turning back to the men in front of us. 

I fold my hands on the table in front of me and watch on with a smile as the Hand begins to introduce the first man. I lean forward and listen intently as the first man tells me who he is and what his house can offer me. The Hand looks at me and I shake my head and he dismisses the man who stares at the floor on his way out. This process repeats for five more men until one of the men who caught my eye steps forward. 

“What is your name?” I sit up and the man smiles in front of me as he spouts out his name and house. He tells me about a life he has planned for us that I couldn’t care less about. I sigh as he rambles on and I hear my father chuckle next to me. “Mm, well thank you.” I offer him a smile before shaking my head to the Hand to dismiss him. 

“Did you see the way his face crumpled?” my father laughs and shakes his head. I let the men drone on and dismiss one after the other. “I tire of this.” he sighs, leaning back into the chair. “Pick the others you like to step forward and dismiss the rest.” he says loud enough for the men to hear. 

“I will not.” I hiss looking at him in horror that he would embarrass me. 

“I told you to be good.” he says lowly between his teeth. I call the Hand over and whisper and point at the handful of men. He dismisses the rest and my father offers them a taunting wave as my cheeks flush. The few remaining men walk up to the dais with a new found sense of confidence. “Really?” my father hums looking at me in surprise at who I picked. 

“They were the handsomest options.” I shrug and watch a smirk spread across his features. The first man is called forward and smiles at me. 

“Firstly I wanted to offer you a happy belated name day, princess. Nine and ten becomes you. Second, I wish to tell you how exquisite you look.” he bows his head as I hear a choked laugh from next to me and see my father covering his mouth. 

“Thank you.” I offer him a genuine smile and listen on as he tells me of his home. I turn to my father with a frown. “You’re embarrassing me.” I whine and he rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the man speaking. 

The Hand continues to keep going down the line of men not waiting for me to prompt him. As they continue to drag out my afternoon I start to form a pout of my lips. I can’t listen to another minute of this. I sigh and push my chair back. My father and the Hand look at me curiously and I smooth my skirts before walking down off the dais. 

“If you’ll excuse me. I’m feeling,” I pause thinking of an excuse as everyone stares at me. “Faint. Terribly so.” I nod my head and continue out of the hall. I take the first corner and sprint up the stairs trying to create as much distance as I can. I continue down hall after hall suddenly finding myself in an unfamiliar area. I slow my pace and stay close to the walls. 

“You’ve gone far for someone who is feeling faint.” I jump at my fathers voice. He stalks over to me and presses me against the stone. 

“I got lost.” I blink up at him. “I started to feel better once I left the hall.” 

“That was very naughty to run out like that.” he presses his body against mine. The breath is stolen from my lungs as his hand engulfs my chin to turn my head and attack my neck. I cling onto his arms while he nibbles against my heated skin as the stone bites into my back. 

“I’m sorry.” my voice completely wrecked as he kisses up my jaw before looking down at me. 

“Let’s get you back to your chambers so you can rest. I’ll have your handmaidens make you a bath.” he smirks at my heaving chest and leads me back down the steps. Once we get back into the main halls he holds me tightly. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well. I would’ve helped you back to your chambers.” my father makes a show of bringing me back to my chambers and my handmaidens are behind ready to prepare my bath. My father finally leaves once I’m behind closed doors and my handmaidens flock to me. 

“Let’s get you out of this gown, princess.” I’m quickly untied from my gown and sigh in relief as I step out of it. I’m whisked to my bath and smile as I see the steam still rising from the water. My handmaidens pour in soap and oils and begin to clean me. I relax back into the water and rest my eyes. They bring me tea and bring the cup straight to my lips. I allow them to dote on me and frown when there’s a knock on my doors. 

“Prince Daemon.” my guard announces and shuts the door. I peek an eye open long enough to see him dismiss my handmaidens and begin walking over to me. A smile starts to spread across my features as I hear him kneel down next to the bath. 

“How are you feeling?” he rests his hand against my forehead. 

“I was just going to have them come get you.” I open my eyes looking at him. “I need you.” I whine. 

“I’m here, sweet girl.” he removes his hand from me to grab the cloth. He gently rubs my arms with the soap while I rest my head back on the lip of the tub. 

“I’m sorry.” I mumble nibbling on my lip. 

“For what?” he hums, starting on my other arm. 

“Leaving the great hall. You told me to be good and I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” he presses his lips against my forehead. 

“You’re still a good girl. You apologized.” he finishes my arm and rises to grab my towel. I stand from my water and he watches as the droplets fall off my body. “You’ll always be my good girl.” he wraps the cotton around me, starting to dry me off. 

“Do I still get my reward?” I look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” I push my bottom lip out. 

“I can never say no to you.” he leads me over to my bed and lets my towel fall away. He helps me lay back on the bed and hovers over me. “I’m just going to give you some kisses.” he purrs before attaching himself to my neck. His lips travel down to my breasts and I gasp as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. His teeth tease the hardened bud and I mewl beneath him. 

“Please,” I whine, burying my fingers in his short hair. He kisses across my chest to swirl his tongue around my other nipple as I continue to buck up into him. I watch as he makes his way down my torso and kisses down my thighs. He holds my legs open as he ghosts his lips along the sensitive skin between my thighs. 

“How are you feeling?” he looks up at me from between my legs. 

“Hot.” I whine, squirming in his grasp. I pant as he kisses back to my center and a cry falls from my lips as his tongue circles my bud. “Daddy,” I pull his hair and he grabs my wrist holding it against the bed as his tongue starts to lash against me. Whimpers and pleas spill from me as he licks down my slit. He releases my wrist so both of his hands can grab my hips and grind me against his face. 

He pushes his tongue into me and I squeak above him. My legs quake as his tongue keeps exploring. He licks back up to my bud and encases it with his lips. I slam my legs around his head as his tongue flicks relentlessly. My pleasure bursts through me as my hips jerk wildly against his face. He softly licks me as I tremble before sitting back to take in my blissful state. 

“Thank you.” I reach out for him. “Thank you,” I mumble again as he lays down and pulls me against his chest. 

“Anything for you, sweet girl.” he presses his lips against my forehead before covering me with the blanket. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Sleep is trying to pull me back in but my breathing is causing me to wake from my dreams. Small gasps leave my mouth and my eyes slowly flutter open. I blink around my dark chambers waiting for my eyes to adjust and feel my hips softly jerking. My mind begins to wake up and I look down to see my fathers head buried between my thighs. I take in my nude state seeing my nipples glistening with his spit as they’ve been sucked into hard peaks. He opens his eyes and looks up at me and when he sees me awake his tongue starts to move even faster. 

“Yes, please, daddy please,” I whine grinding my hips against his face. He pushes two long fingers into me and my legs trap him between them. He starts to slam his fingers into me and I shake as my pleasure washes through me. When he sits up I notice his lack of clothing and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. He leans down over me and presses his lips against mine. 

“I couldn’t resist you.” he mumbles against my mouth. His hardened length slides through my wetness and I whine as it pushes against my core. “I need to be in you.” I wrap my legs around his waist at his words. He presses himself into me and I whimper at the familiar stretch and sting. 

I breathe out pleasure slurred whimpers and pleas as he rocks his hips into mine. His pace is slow and languid until he hears my high pitched gasps. He grinds into me before pulling almost all of the way out and slamming back into me. His pace is harsh and has me digging my nails into his back. My ankles lock behind his back as he pounds into me as I begin to fall apart beneath him. My hold on him loosens and I begin to slide up the bed with every snap of his hips. 

“Taking me so good.” he pants before smashing his lips against mine. My chambers are filled with the sounds of my wetness and our skin meeting one another. I cry out as I feel my stomach start to coil. “Your sweet little cunt always squeezes me so tightly.” he pants resting his hands on either side of my head. 

“Please,” my voice cracks as my legs fall open on either side of his waist as he hammers into me. 

“Daddy will fill you up, don't worry. I always take care of you. Don’t I, good girl?” he grunts as his rhythm begins to falter. I nod my head, unable to form words as my pleasure causes my eyes to roll back. He slams into once more before I feel his warmth seep into me. “So fucking good for me.” he groans slowly rocking his hips. 

He slowly pulls out of me and presses his lips against my forehead. “Go back to bed, good girl.” he hums, pulling me against him once. My eyes heavy with sleep and pleasure close with ease as I curl into his side allowing sleep to take me back. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

freud would’ve loved this xx 

Part 2

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004

[dilfstar]

daddy dearest

realdad!leon x daughter!reader 3k words. warnings ! incest, forced ddlg, infantilization, slight coercion, drugging, fingering, oral (f), piv, daddy kink, loss of virginity, creampie notes ! mega super awesome thank you 2 @localkiss for the idea and so much of this... wouldn't be able 2 do it without U i love u 🙏 ignore how fast the pills kicked in... just go w it ☹️

You were old enough to move out, get a job, live on your own, be an adult. But he had other plans. What kind of father would he be if he let his sweet, innocent daughter out into the cruel, harsh world? Where people could get you, men could grope you, ruin you! Just the thought of it made his skin crawl…

Leon made sure you stayed home, safe, and tucked away in your childhood bedroom. The walls were still painted in a light pink. Though, the decor was more reminiscent of a 5-year-old's room. Toys and coloring books were everywhere, with stuffed animals watching your every move. Yikes.

All of your old clothes were thrown out, too mature for his liking. What? Was he supposed to let his little girl wear next to nothing around the house? What if he had company over! His friends would eye-fuck you into the next century!

It wasn't like you didn't try to fight it or leave. You just couldn't. He put stuff in your food. You know he does. But how are you supposed to stop him when you can barely walk long enough to get to the bathroom on time? Your legs were turned into useless sticks from all the pills he snuck into your food!

He lived in some kind of delusion. Some made-up world where what he's doing to you was good for you, saving you. Fucking freak! You're his daughter! Not some random girl he met on the street, not some fucked-out whore he picked up from a bar. His child, his own flesh and blood. What kind of dad fucks their own daughter?

A good one! At least according to his definition of the term. A good dad should fuck his daughter’s brains out, leave her full of cum and barely conscious. It's his right. He deserves this after all the years taking care of you!

He didn't really care how you felt about the situation. Why would you be thinking about it in the first place? You're just his dumb little baby, too high to even eat on your own. You needed Daddy for everything. You needed him to feed you, change you into your cute little outfits, bathe you, fuck you until your body gave out. 

He ruined you. Leon took and took and took until you were nothing, just a doll for him to use and abuse with his twisted fantasies. He was a sick, sick man. A sick, twisted man you still loved. More than anything in the world. How could you possibly hate him? He's your daddy! He's just looking out for you.

It all happened so fast. Starting from a simple movie night with your dad. A few too many beers making you a little too needy, clinging to him like you did when you were little. The way you rested on him, used him as a pillow. Oh, it made his heart squeeze!

Your voice was so soft as you cuddled up to him, mumbling Daddy over and over. Leon raked his hands through your hair as you laid your head on his lap, so, so close to his dick. The way you wiggled around so much made it so difficult for him to keep it together. Such a tease, just like your mother.

Maybe that's why he loved you so much. You looked just like her, after all. Same hair, same nose, same lips… He needed you. He needed you so badly that it hurt. His cock ached, craving something warm around it. Something tight. Something perfect, like you.

You would be the best thing, right? I mean, you’re literally made just for him. Meant to be used as his personal fleshlight. The thought of any other guy touching you made him sick to his stomach. He deserved to be the only one! That's when it all clicked inside his head—the perfect plan coming together.

Leon carried you up to your old room, setting you down on the twin-sized bed like a princess, tucking you in with a gentle kiss on the lips. You tasted so sweet, like the strawberry chapstick you always put on. “My beautiful angel… All mine…”

He planted another kiss on your forehead before leaving, running down the stairs to the garage to get some boxes of your old toys and clothes. He had to get everything set up while you were asleep, so you could wake up to your (his) dream!

Your head was pounding the next morning, the sunlight coming in through the window not helping. The sudden attack of pink woke you up instantly. Every single inch of the room you were in looked like a little girl's dream come true. The number of stuffed animals and dolls around you made your eyes burn.

You looked down at the outfit you were wearing, a shocked gasp falling from your lips. What could've possibly happened last night for you to be wearing something straight out of a Justice catalog? In what world would you willingly put on something this childish? 

The door opened, revealing a smiling Leon carrying a tiny cup in his hand, a few pills in the other. “Hey, sweetheart… ’m glad you're awake. Was starting to get worried! Here, I brought you some medicine. Should help with your headache…” 

He handed them over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you swallow the pills. His stare was focused directly on your body, as if he wanted to pounce on you and attack. It all felt so off, so nauseating. Why was your dad staring at you like a piece of meat? Why did you wake up to all of this?

The room started to spin, your vision blurring as your head hit the pillow behind you. Everything felt so hazy, like a fog rolled into the room, blocking all of it from your view. “Dad… Daddy… What’s happenin’...?”

Leon crawled over to you, pulling back the fluffy comforter, revealing your bare legs underneath. He had to bite back a groan; the sight of you, his daughter, so vulnerable made him feel crazy. His hands moved up your legs slowly, inching towards your inner thighs, pulling them apart to reveal the pink and white polka-dot panties covering your core. He leaned in, inhaling your scent like it was the antidote to an illness he'd been suffering from forever.

“Shh… Just rest… “Daddy's here.” He mumbled, his breathing shallow and fast. His fingers looped underneath the waistband of your panties, gently pulling them off and pocketing them. He needed something for later!

He poked and prodded at your cunt, smiling like a perv at how perfect you looked. The light touches, mixed with his soft breaths sent chills down your spine. Your hips bucked as he brushed against your clit, disgust immediately washing over you. Why was he touching you like this? Why did you like it?

“Need t’see if my girl is a virgin… Make sure she saved herself for me…” He placed his thumb on your clit, pressing down gently, groaning at the way you shuddered from the slight contact. This shouldn't be turning you on. He's your dad, for crying out loud!

He spit on your pussy, eyes twinkling as the glob of saliva dripped down your slit. His fingers moved down to your hole, mixing the spit with your juices as he pushed a digit in. He started with slow, simple movements, soon adding another finger, and then another. 

They moved inside of you so painfully slowly that you wanted to scream at him to move faster! But whatever he gave you earlier made your tongue feel so heavy, your arms and legs felt like 40-pound weights were tied to them. All you could do was let your dad tease you like some jerk.

“Seems like you did… You did so well… I think you deserve a reward, yeah?” He pulled his hand away, causing a small whimper to escape from you. He stared up at you so sweetly, as if you were a princess awakening from a years long slumber. 

Leon leaned down, immediately diving into you. His nose bumped against your clit as he ate you like a starved man at a buffet. His tongue thrust inside of you, lapping at your wetness like an animal. He groaned into your cunt, loving the way you tasted. If he was on death row and got offered his last meal? It would be you.

“‘m close… So close…” You whined, desperately trying to squeeze your legs around his head, still feeling too fuzzy to move a muscle. All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and move your head, your body feeling too much like it was encased in cement. How were you already so sensitive? It’d barely been 5 minutes, and you were this close? 

The room felt like it was spinning again; all of your nerves felt like they were on fire. Pleasure shot up your spine, exploding in your head like a fireworks display. The word Daddy fell from your soft lips like a mantra. Your mouth could only form the one word, your brain filled with thoughts of him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you came, eyes shooting open and rolling to the back of your head. “S’too much… Too much! No more…”

He sat you on his lap like usual, grabbing a spoonful of whatever mushed-up food was on the pink plate in front of you, bringing it to your mouth while making airplane noises. Your mouth fell open like usual, allowing him to shove the head of the spoon in. He wasn’t a bad cook, no. He was just weird. Weird for making you act like a little girl at your age, weird for turning you into a toy.

You just wanted your old life back, when you had friends and other people to talk to. Acting like a kid wasn’t exactly the most fun thing a girl could do. Though you didn’t necessarily hate some of the attention he gave you. How fucked up is that? Liking the way your own dad touches you? What kind of sick freak acts like- Oh. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

He frowned at the way you denied the food, the dull look in your eyes. Why couldn't you just be good for him and eat it? Why did you always have to fight him on this? 

The plastic spoon hit the plate, food flying off it onto the table. His hand moved to your face impossibly fast, fingers digging into your cheeks, squeezing them together as he turned you to face him. “What did I say about acting bratty, hm? No treats for disobedient little girls.”

His grip on you was bruising, his nails digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent-shaped marks. The way he stared into your eyes terrified you. Anger hiding behind his blue irises. He was pissed. He was beyond pissed. Why couldn't you just listen?

“I told you not to do this again. Remember what happened last time? Y’wanna do that again? Sure seems like you do…” Your eyes widened as memories of that night flashed through your mind. The bruises he left all over, the red marks on your ass—how you couldn't sit properly for a week! The threat made you curl into yourself on his lap like a small child being yelled at for stealing from the cookie jar.

He released his grip on you, patting your cheek lightly with a sickly grin. Leon pulled down on your chin, opening your mouth enough to shove the spoon in again, making sure you swallowed the food. “Now, there's a good girl… So good for Daddy, yeah?”

He held onto your jaw as you ate, making sure you couldn't refuse him more. What kind of daughter disobeys their dad? Bad ones. What happens to bad daughters? They get punished.

His punishments were cruel, just meant to be pleasurable only to him. Spanking you with his belt, tying you to your bed, taking away your toys. His favorite was fucking you until you passed out! The way your eyes fluttered shut, how you went limp in his arms. God, he loved it. He loved how scared you were of him, the look of pure fear in your eyes was enough jack-off material to last for weeks!

His fingers curled inside of you, squeezing against the spot that made you see stars. Your head was spinning. Every inch of your body was on fire. “Daddy… I can't do any more… Please!!” You squealed, crushing his wrist between your thighs.

Your hands gripped the pink sheets beneath you for dear life, holding on as if you were about to fall off the side of a building. Bliss shot up your spine, filling you with a feeling of delight and pure disgust. All because of your dear, sweet father.

He smirked down at you, the sight of you writhing underneath him sent all the blood to his cock, the pajama pants he was wearing suddenly feeling a little too tight. “That's it… There's my girl… Y’think you're big enough to take me yet? Think you're ready for me, baby?”

Yes, God, yes! You wanted to scream it, let the world know you wanted to get fucked by your dad! But sadly, all you could do was nod. You looked like a stupid bobblehead toy, silently begging him to rail you into the next universe. None of it mattered when you had him, though. 

He chuckled at how enthusiastic you were, leaning forward to place a tender kiss on your lips, tongue rubbing against your bottom one, asking to be let in. You deepened the kiss, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him in close. His hand left your soaked cunt, wiping itself on his pants before moving to the back of your head. He slotted himself between your legs, rutting against your heat as he made out with you. 

His free hand snuck down to his pants, pushing them and his boxers down just enough to pull his dick out. Leon pulled back from the kiss to look down, smirking at how wet you were. He looked up at you for a moment, a sympathetic look in his blue eyes. “This is gonna hurt for sec… Promise I'll be as gentle as I can…” And with that, he slowly pushed in. His head fell at how wonderful you felt around him, like you were already shaped perfectly for his cock.

“S’okay… I’ve got you.” The stretch absolutely burned. It felt like you were in some medieval torture device. At least the drugs he had you doped up on dulled some of the pain…

He moved his hand back to your clit, thumb moving in small circles, trying to make it at least a little more pleasurable for you. He pushed and pushed, inching in slowly until he was buried to the hilt inside of you. His chest heaved as he caught his breath for a moment, the whole situation now overwhelming him. “I’m gonna move now, ‘kay?”

With a small, comforting smile, he pulled back, shoving into you all at once. His thrusts started slow as you adjusted to his size, trying to be careful with you, terrified to hurt you. How could he live with himself if he hurt you without meaning to? Punishments were one thing… But actually harming you? It’d kill him!

Once he fell into a nice rhythm, all rational thoughts flew out the window. The fear of hurting you was gone, he couldn't care less about it now. It was like a switch flipped inside his head. Your walls just squeezed him too perfectly, clamping down on him like a vice.

It all felt so perfect, like it finally made sense. The disgust that was in you melted away at the feeling of him pounding away at you, just using you for what he wanted. It sent your heart into overdrive, the organ beating against your ribcage. Your head dropped back onto the mountain of pillows behind you, cushioning it while you let your father take advantage of you.

He felt like a teenager again, like he did before he met your mother. She was a good fuck, sure, and he did love her, but it just never felt as good as this. Nothing could ever compare to you, to how you felt around him. The way your velvety walls hugged him so wonderfully made his heart flutter in his chest. 

“Daddy… Daddy! S’too much… Can't do it… I-I can't!” You whined, shaking your head from side to side like you were throwing a tantrum. You felt too sensitive, his touches too much for your body to handle. The coil inside of you felt like it was about to snap, like it was about to explode! You didn't know if you could last much longer, and neither did he. His pace got sloppy the closer he got, hips stuttering inside of you.

He finally stilled as thick, hot spurts of cum coated your walls, painting them in a milky white. You squeezed around him, cunt refusing to let him go. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, legs twitching around his waist, accidentally pulling him in impossibly closer. You whined involuntarily as he pulled out, feeling too empty inside without him. He almost came again at the sight of his cum dripping out of you, staining the sheet below. 

“You okay, baby? Are you hurtin’ anywhere?” He checked over you frantically, looking into your eyes like a madman. All you could do in return was give him a sloppy, fucked out smile. A smile that made all the worry in him dissolve. He crawled off the bed, snaking his arms around you bridal style, carrying you off to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 24: I have a proposition for you

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Taehyung x Jungkook

🗡️ word count: 18.7k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️warnings: casually discussing & thinking about previous violent events (involving guns, knives, cars, etc.); use of MDMA & cocaine, as well as a lot of whiskey; explicit smut (sex swing; sex under the influence of drugs & alcohol; voyeurism/exhibitionism; threesome; multiple orgasms & overstimulation; squirting orgasm; going non-verbal; a hint of subspace; crashing from the need of more after care but also from drugs) mc is still spiraling a lot.

🗡️note: hello, hello!!! ngl, it annoys me that Jimin's and Hoseok's hair are the wrong color in the mood board but it's impossible finding a good square pic of those three. also!!!! this is a reminder that mc is bisexual lol. also!!! drug come-ups and come-downs happen unusually fast because this is fiction. and because this was originally at least two chapters that have been condensed into one.

🗡️ also note: i love you. thank you for waiting. 💜

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🗡️ posted Jan. 2025 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

With a jolt, you awaken, gasping and struggling to get your bearings. You blink, squinting against the sun that shines through the small rounded windows, slowly returning to consciousness. The plane bounces slightly as it taxis, and you lean over—or, rather, into—Hwasa as you peer out the window. The unfamiliar scenery reminds you that you are not home in Seoul but in Busan. 

Bright sunlight causes your entire head to ache. You squeeze your eyes closed and bury your face into Hwasa's neck, which is soft and warm and smells like a fresh bouquet. She audibly pouts and raises a hand to shield your eyes, as well as pet your forehead. 

"Rough night," she says sweetly, and you nod. "Don't worry, dove, we'll be home very soon."

The events of last night return in flashes, causing your stomach to roil unpleasantly. Despite Ryujin's insistence that Christian poses no threat, you are not so sure. The way he gripped your hand and stared at you felt pretty fucking threatening. He is not the man you once knew. 

But you find it hard to believe she would put you in danger. After everything her family has done to harm Yoongi and his men, you imagine if anything happened to you, he would not hesitate to burn her home to the ground with everyone inside it. Just his display at the hideout alone speaks to his willingness to kill for you.

A cursory glance at your phone this morning showed Seokjin has managed to import everyone's numbers into your contact list. This assuages your concerns somewhat; at the very least, you are able to reach them should something go sideways. Never mind the fact that Seoul is four, possibly five hours away by car—a detail you choose to ignore for the time being. 

You could text Yoongi right now and inform him of Christian's appearance. But what would that solve, realistically? He would likely appear with guns—or chopsticks—blazing and demand you return to a home that you so desperately felt the need to leave. 

It is possible that Christian behaved the way he did last night because you nearly touched him. It could have been a sore spot for him to come so close to you again. Intoxicated, he may have behaved more strangely than usual. Perhaps bringing up his missing eye was triggering.

The plane finally slows to a stop, and one by one, the women begin to stretch and stand. A long red sedan waits outside, and you watch as staff members begin to move luggage from the plane to the back of the vehicle.  

Your stomach lurches as you make your way to the steps and begin the descent to the tarmac. As tired as you are of questioning whether you are making a mistake, you are desperate to settle in and feel a semblance of peace. You would be happy to never leave your bedroom once you are introduced to one. It is not as if you are expected to work. At least, you don't think so. 

Solar and Moonbyul climb into the far back of the vehicle, then Hwasa gets into the middle row and pats the seat for you to join her. You are about to scoot toward the center to make space for another, but Wheein rounds the vehicle and gets into the passenger seat as Ryujin slides into the driver's seat, making everyone accounted for. 

Once you are buckled in and all the doors are closed, Ryujin is off, driving nauseatingly fast. She drives like she owns these streets—and maybe she does, but it makes you want to barf.  

You close your eyes and lean into Hwasa, glad when she slots her arm around you easily. Now that the two of you will be under the same roof in a manner that feels more official, you wonder whether you should confront the way you feel around her. The butterflies, the dizziness, the urge to reach out and touch, the desire to be held just as you are now, but always. You are certain that it is nothing more than a crush and not worth dwelling on. But you are also aware of the fact that in no time at all your loneliness will shift to something carnal, and that having her in your bubble like this could become dangerously tempting. 

"We're here," Hwasa says softly against the top of your head.

With a light, pleased sigh, you slowly open your eyes and begin to sit up. A large metal gate scrapes open, and you are greeted by the sight of a massive hanok made of beautiful, brightly stained pine wood and earthen bricks. Ridge-end tiles, pine purlins, and decoratively carved rafters and beams showcase traditional Korean craftsmanship. 

The massive double doors are decorated with square metal frames, reminiscent of traditional wood and paper screen doors, and you watch in awe as the door on the right opens and several women come excitedly hopping out. You marvel at how tall and wide the structure is compared to them. 

You recognize one of the women as the person who attempted to chuck a ball at your head the first time you went into Yoongi's pool. Surely, she must know that you have come to stay in the house. Is she likely to cause you more trouble, or have they been forced to come to some understanding that you will be living with them now?

Men in uniform follow behind the women and remain stationed at the door. They are dressed in black tactical gear, with handguns at their hips, and you think you even spot earpieces in their ears. Although you know their presence is meant to make you feel safe, something about their hard, stoic nature is off-putting, and you tear your gaze away.

"They're nice," Hwasa chides, gently pushing an elbow into your side. You must really look afraid for her to have noticed.

With a nod, you open the car door and slowly step out. It is warm, but there is a nice breeze that cools you. The sun, however, is bright and oppressive, and the more you stand directly in its shine, the harder your head pounds. 

Ryujin and the girls gather all the luggage, including yours, and take it inside. You follow behind slowly, inviting Hwasa to link her arm into yours and lead you. The entrance is a small foyer with shoes on either side and two small tables on which keys and other items are stored, including sunglasses and chapsticks. You step out of your shoes and pass through a set of paper and wood screen doors, where the space opens up into what appears to be a massive sitting room that seems at least two stories tall. 

Cushions, couches, and tables are strewn about with a pathway leading through the center and around the sides. The space is dimly lit with lamps interspersed and fairy lights that hang from the tall ceiling and along the walls, creating a dreamy atmosphere. 

Through the space, there are hallways that lead to the left and the right, and a large, open kitchen and dining hall. The walls are white, with pine beams that complement the cabinets and floors, giving a traditional feel, but the counters and appliances are light marble and polished steel. Sinks are deep, wide basins with tall faucets that hang overhead, and the dishware appears to all be handmade ceramic, earthenware, and stainless steel.

On the far wall between the kitchen and a long dining table raised on a wooden platform is a door that Hwasa slides open, revealing a courtyard. She steps out onto a wooden ledge barefoot, and you follow behind. Stone paths snake and converge through a massive grassy space, surrounded by the rectangular shape of the hanok, with doors along the walls leading to what you imagine to be the various bedrooms. 

"Ryujin sleeps in the far room," Hwasa says, pointing straight ahead to the opposite end of the large structure. 

"I'm this way," she says, pointing to what you believe is the third door on the right, "And you will be this way," she says, tugging you to the left. 

Along the length of the building is a wooden ledge, with a wide stone step in front of each room that leads down to the path, and on both sides of the ledge are potted plants. Some are flowers, some are small trees and shrubs; your room appears to be surrounded by bonsai trees. 

Although the doors are traditional screen doors made of paper and wood, they have been enshrined in thick glass with ornate brass handles. As you reach the door to your new room and step up onto the wooden ledge, it slides open, revealing Ryujin's smiling face. 

"Come on in," she says, pointing to a small white floor mat beside two sets of house shoes.  

You step onto the mat, rubbing off any dirt that you may have tracked, then slide into the closest pair of soft white slippers before entering. There is a small entrance room similar to the foyer of the house, with a wooden railing to hang coats on the left and a wooden table and bowl on the right. In the bowl rests two gold keys on a small gold ring, and you reach for them, feeling their weight in your hand, and slide them into a pocket of the oversized hoodie that once belonged to Jeongguk. 

The bedroom is a decent size, with a tall ceiling to accommodate a loft, the ladder for which is to the left as soon as you enter. A bed large enough to accommodate three is on a raised wooden platform on the right, with white pillows, blankets, and sheets. There is a dresser and a large mirror, all made of the same pine and brass as everything in the house, and similar to the doors, all the hinges on the furniture are in the shape of butterflies. 

"This is lovely," you say, taking in the scent of the room. It seems to have been recently dusted, but there is a stuffiness to it that suggests it has been vacant for quite some time. You leave the door open to the courtyard as you sit down on the firm bed and take everything in. 

"There is a small futon up in the loft, as well as a low table and cushions, in case you would prefer to be up there," Ryujin says. "And we can swap out the white bedding for something that feels a little more you."

You nod and crack a smile, saying, "Thank you."

"I might have something that's all black somewhere," she chides with a wink, making your cheeks warm. "In fact, one of my black comforters may have golden dragons embroidered on it. You can have a piece of Yoongi and Namjoon."

You hug your arms tightly around your middle, pulling your gaze away from her as she speaks. Although you are grateful for Ryujin's hospitality, it does feel strange knowing she has had such an intimate relationship with the men you love. Perhaps it is the casual nature with which she brings it up that you find particularly jarring. 

"I will fetch you those items shortly," Ryujin says. "Feel free to look around. There are bathrooms interspersed throughout, but Hyejin and Hyungseo have master suites with their own. Luckily you do not have to work to butter anyone up to bathe in peace." She winks at you, then grins at Hwasa. "I also have a massive suite with a shower room and tub, which you are welcome to use any time."

Ryujin leaves the bedroom through the door that opens up to the hallway, but Hwasa takes your arm and tugs you back toward the courtyard. You step out of your slippers and slide the door closed, then follow her along the path leading to her door. 

"It's faster than walking inside," she says, and you nod, finding it easy to imagine so. "There is also a shortcut from the front of the house, so you don't have to walk through the living room. And if you take a path past mother's door, there is a large outdoor pool and garden. Just don't be alarmed by the guards. They tend to hide in plain sight."

Hwasa pulls out a small ring of keys and slots a golden one into the door, twisting and then retracting it before sliding the door open. You step inside and are immediately hit with a sensation opposite to your bedroom. 

Hwasa's room is much larger than yours, with an open door on the left that leads to a bathroom. She has no loft, only a tall ceiling from which she has hung fairy lights and fluffy clouds. Her bedding is pale pink, clothing and jewelry are strewn about, and the air smells distinctly of her. She sits on the bed and reaches for the drawer of the pine bedside table. From inside, she takes out a small golden key and holds it out for you. 

"What is this?" you ask, dumbfounded. 

"A key to my room, silly," she says through a chuckle. 

You take the key between your fingers and examine it, but you are filled with a torrent of conflicting emotions. 

"I couldn't possibly—" you begin, holding the key out to her, but she pushes your hand away, saying, "Nonsense. Just take it. You might get lonely in this large house, and I don't need you thinking you have to ask for permission each time you want to come see me."

You slide the key into your pocket, hearing it rattle beside your phone and the keys to your room. You do not tell her that you intend to knock or text before coming over and that it is something she is going to need to accept. 

"Are you hungry?" she asks, and you nod. You are more than hungry; you feel absolutely hollowed out.

Hwasa leads you into the house this time, and you take light steps on bare feet, worried about making too much noise; hesitant to draw too much attention. At the end of the hall, you turn right and walk past the raised dining table, at which two women sit on the floor and pick at plates of fruit and bread. 

“We have a chef who comes in the morning to stock the fridge,” Hwasa says as she approaches a large, wide refrigerator. 

The stainless steel doors open from the center and inside are rows and stacks of glass containers filled with food. Hwasa rummages, pulling out a tub of cubed melons. You find a tub of glass noodles with carrot and other finely cut vegetables, and Hwasa retrieves a cold bottle of grapefruit-flavored soju. You expect to be led to the long table, but Hwasa opens the containers on the counter, retrieves bowls and utensils, and serves herself food only to immediately eat it where she stands. You do not object and do the same.

Slowly, the area fills with women, but you keep your head down, eating the food. The noodles are filling and the fruit is refreshing; the soju brings a little warmth to your chest and very slightly assuages your anxiety. 

"Don't worry, you will get to know everyone soon enough," Hwasa mutters. 

You hum, but you are not too certain it is possible. There must be at least twenty bedrooms connected to the long halls of the hanok, and you imagine there are rooms that could contain more than one person. How many women might clamber into Ryujin's bed at night, you wonder. Do they all have rooms of their own?

After eating, Hwasa returns the containers to the fridge while you take the used dishes and utensils to the sink and wash them. A large bamboo rack is on the left side of the sink, already stacked with various items, and you add yours to the pile, too unsure where things go to offer putting dried items away. 

"Come," Hwasa says, tugging at your hands as soon as you are able to dry them on a cloth that hangs above the sink in a large window overlooking the courtyard. "Let's take a bottle to the gardens and lie on the grass."

With a new bottle of soju, you are led down a long hallway, past all the closed doors, to a gate nestled to the right of Ryujin's wide-open bedroom door. You glance into the space to find her room in bright pastels, namely yellow and orange, and as you avert your eyes, you think about the bedroom in Yoongi's mansion that was inherited from her. After seven years, things have been left the same, and you are unsure how to feel about that.

* * *

You are groggy and chilly as you roll over, waking up to the feeling of grass tickling your left cheek. At which point you had fallen asleep, you are unsure, but you are glad when Hwasa stirs and groans beside you. 

Ryujin's garden is so similar to Yoongi's that when you first laid eyes on it, tears prickled, and you felt the overwhelming urge to spiral into an anxiety attack. Statues, shrub walls, fountains…there is even a shrub maze that Hwasa invited you to walk through, but the thought of it conjured memories of Namjoon, and you suggested instead to lie in the grass as was originally planned. The weight of everything must have pressed you down into a brief but deep sleep. The soju bottle was barely touched. 

It is hard not to wonder whether you will ever see Yoongi's garden again. From where you sit, on a slight hill overlooking the labyrinth, you can see the large statue of a minotaur near the center, and you wonder whether Ryujin did it as an homage or a fuck you to Yoongi's garden. You like the addition of the minotaur but dislike how it mirrors the theme of Greek iconography. How much of her former life with Yoongi has Ryujin kept here? How often does she think of him? Are you as safe with her as everyone claims?

The rest of the day feels like a blur. You follow Hwasa around until it is time to retire for the night, at which time the roles reverse and she follows you. She offers to help you unpack your suitcase, but you opt to leave it for tomorrow. There is a finality in unpacking that you are not yet ready to face, despite the suitcase remaining a symbol of your ability to leave at any time. You suppose it is complicated. You do, however, find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in the depths of your luggage that are not as soft and comfortable as the ones you had been pilfering from Yoongi over the last several months but cozy enough to make you feel slightly more relaxed. Then you hug Hwasa good night, allowing her to place a kiss on your cheek but feeling incapable of returning the gesture. 

Although the walls do a good job of keeping noise out, there is a faint, distant liveliness that can be heard from somewhere inside the hanok. You assume from the living room or possibly the dining room. 

You climb into the cold bed and pull the white comforter up to your ears. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You consider calling Namjoon but decide against it, worrying you may ask him to come bring you home. After lying still for an indeterminate amount of time, you sigh, get out of bed, and retrieve the golden keys from the wooden bowl beside your door. 

The night is cold as you tiptoe in bare feet out into the courtyard, which is illuminated by string lights, light pollution, and a very bright moon. Although you clench the key to Hwasa's door, as you approach, you gently knock. It only takes a handful of seconds before a light turns on, and another handful until her door slides open. You enter without a word, wipe your feet off, and slide the door closed. Your keys jingle and slide into the basin of the wooden bowl.

Hwasa is barefaced and sleepy, and she smiles lopsided when she climbs into her bed and scoots to one side, facing you as you slip under the warm covers and nestle one arm under the pillow. Once you are settled, she rotates enough to shut off a small bedside lamp, shrouding you in darkness and the scent of flowers. Moments later, you are asleep.

* * *

The hanok is chaotic all day, from the moment you wake to the sounds of voices shouting excitedly, to the moment you stand before Hwasa's mirror wearing borrowed items, giving yourself one last look before setting off into the night. You hardly remember eating food, drinking coffee, and meeting women; your nerves have been alight at the knowledge that you will see your men one more time. One last time, you suppose, for the foreseeable future. It all makes your head spin, and you struggle to focus.

You wear the same asymmetrical little black dress that you wore the first day you met Yoongi—not because you find it amusing, although you do—but because you left behind all the dresses he bought you, and this is the only one you have that seems to fit the vibe of Serendipity. 

Hwasa has draped your neck and wrists in gold chains, and you wear borrowed gold daisies in your ears that don't quite match but that you are fond of. She and Ryujin give you the smoky eye look that Yoongi likes so much and pin your hair back away from your face. Borrowed fishnet tights make you feel a bit self-conscious, but you enjoy the way they look with your black loosely-laced boots. You wonder whether the men will recognize the bits of your outfit that you once wore or if they even noticed your dress at all on that first day.

Everyone else wears black and gold, Hwasa in a tight bodice top and pencil skirt with stiletto heels, and Ryujin in a long-sleeve cropped turtleneck and tight leggings with tall boots. Both women are adored in chains, earrings, bracelets, and rings, shimmering with each movement, with their dark hair pinned from their faces and hanging down their backs, Hwasa's falling in pretty waves and Ryujin's perfectly straight. 

Despite feeling excitement over seeing the men, you are also concerned about letting loose and feeling too comfortable, teetering continuously between wanting to stay and wanting to return to the mansion. As you take your medications followed by deep, slow breaths, you tell yourself to stop spiraling along this familiar train of thought. You know that it does you no good, and yet it loops endlessly. Finally, when everyone is ready and you feel like you have your shit as together as possible, you allow yourself to be ushered out to the long red SUV. 

The drive to Serendipity is so short you could have walked there. Perhaps in another life, you would not need armored vehicles driving you from one destination to another. What had it been like all those months ago to finally have a modicum of freedom? How difficult would it be to run away for real and return to a lifestyle bogged down by working night shift jobs that allow you to be your own person again?

Several security guards are stationed at the door, glowing in the bright red of the familiar sign that reads Serendipity overhead. Ryujin has informed you that only her people, Yoongi's people, and neutral parties to the families will be in attendance, with the exception of bartenders and dancers. So it surprises you when you enter the building and it is already packed. You recognize men from Yoongi's staff but do not see the family men or any of the security staff you have gotten to know. Hwasa veers away immediately with the promise of being right back, so you stick close to Ryujin. 

Last time you were here, Yoongi took you directly through dark hallways into a VIP space. This time, you enter the main floor. There is an open area with tables scattered throughout and a large bar on the left. A dancefloor is ahead in a semi-partitioned area, and the VIP section is raised to the far right, overlooking the dancefloor. Your gaze hangs on the VIP section, wondering whether your men are nestled away in those booths, bending low over piles of cocaine as Yoongi had you do—a memory that feels like an indoctrination of sorts into this lifestyle. But as far as you can tell, nobody is over there. 

Everything is made of unassuming dark wood and shiny silver metal. It is far less flashy than you would expect from someone like Yoongi, considering it was his bar first. Nothing stands out but the bars, dance cages, and open space, as if the only thing that is meant to be experienced here are the people who come to dance. Or, perhaps, the main draw is downstairs…the thought of which makes you shiver.

Throughout the space, there are raised platforms with bars similar to the dance cages at Paradise. Inside, dancers clad in almost nothing sway and twist to the sultry music that plays overhead. It seems that most attendees are in this first room and not yet on the dancefloor. They congregate around the tall tables and in groups. You scan the room over and over for someone who is more than just vaguely familiar from the Hanok or security teams and feel disappointed when you do not find anyone to run off to as Ryujin places a hand on the back of your right arm and ushers you toward the bar.

People step aside as you approach, giving you and Ryujin a wide berth while never breaking from their conversations. Some turn to bow their heads to Ryujin, but most carry on as if she is not there. Once you are at the bar, Ryujin holds up three fingers, and the tender nods and turns to the shelves, producing a bottle that appears to hold whiskey. 

"Your men are running late," she sighs as she glances at her phone before tucking it back into a pocket of her leggings. You feel relieved and disappointed at the same time. 

"MDMA for the ladies?" the bartender offers as they set down three glasses of whiskey. You reach for the center glass and glance around for the owner of the third, happy when you see Hwasa's smiling face approaching. 

"None for me," Ryujin says, but Hwasa chimes, "Yes, please!"  

The bartender produces a small brass decorative box. When they open it, a twinkling song plays, but its tune is lost to the music playing overhead. In the lid of the box is a mirror that reflects your chest, and spinning slowly before the mirror is the figure of a tiny ballerina in a little pink tutu. The box is filled with a white substance that appears to be a mix of powder and crystals, and you turn to watch as Hwasa licks her fingertip and sticks it directly into the substance, then pulls it out, inspecting the powder and small lumps of crystal that coat her fingertip. 

"It's fun," she says to you, eyebrows raised.

You nibble on the inside of your mouth, uncertain. The last time you did a similar drug with Jeongguk, you completely lost control of your emotions. But you were also in a more emotionally tumultuous state at the time, and you wonder whether doing it tonight might be different. 

"I, uh…I actually took some with Jeongguk not too long ago and I think it had an adverse effect."

Hwasa frowns and asks, "Was it exactly like this?"

You examine the dust and shake your head. "It was more of an…"

"Amethyst color?" Ryujin fills in over your shoulder. You nod, turning your head slightly toward her. 

"This stuff is a lot more pure," Hwasa says. "Amethyst was good, but it wasn't quite perfect. Of course, no pressure. But if you want to try a tiny bit, you can always return for more."

"Jeongguk mentioned it may have counteracted my antidepressants. But I was also in a really bad headspace." You feel like you are overexplaining, but truthfully, you are curious to try it again, especially if the women say this version is better than the one he had. 

"How much did you take?" Ryujin asks. 

"A small capsule," you say, turning to face her more fully. 

Ryujin gives a knowing nod. "There are several factors that go into play when taking a drug like this. A capsule could have been too high of a dose, and rather than make you feel euphoric, it overwhelmed you."

You certainly felt overwhelmed that night. And you wonder whether it was the combination of what was in your system that made everything go sour or the aftermath of what Jeongguk had said to you. Do you think you could fall for someone like me? A shutter works its way along your spine.

"I would like to try a little," you say, eager to feel the euphoria and body high that you had the last time before everything went south. 

You turn to Hwasa, whose finger is still coated in the drug. With a grin, she says, "This amount should only last about an hour or two. And the come-up and come-down are a lot smoother than they were with amethyst."

With a nod, you begin to lift a finger to your lips in order to wet the tip, but Hwasa beats you to it, holding her own close to your mouth. She raises an eyebrow, and you part your lips, feeling as self-conscious as you are excited to be given an invitation to suck on her finger. The substance is alarmingly sour, and your face puckers as you suck harder, doing your best to get all of it. Hwasa giggles, and when she removes her finger, you quickly pick up your whiskey and knock a mouthful back. As soon as you do so, you begin to worry that you are once again not in a good place to be doing drugs like this. But then you think of Yoongi and Namjoon, and warmth fills your chest, making it hard to imagine your night could turn sour. 

Perhaps it is the nerves of waiting for the drug to kick in, but you drink your whiskey a little too fast. It makes you feel light on your feet, especially considering you only snacked all day, not having much of an appetite in anticipation for tonight. You ask for water and are relieved when a large, cold glass is set before you. 

Hwasa and Ryujin both lean against the bar facing the main room, and you do the same, clenching the chilled glass as you rest your elbows against the bar top. You look between caged dancers, from glistening pecs and hard abs to soft curves. But your eyes trail to the front door the most, waiting for the men to arrive. It is not like Yoongi to be late, and the longer you wait, the more antsy you become. 

And then, slowly, you begin to feel the tingle. It starts in your fingertips but resonates in your chest, too. You feel a warmth work its way over you, but also a chill—it's hard to fully grasp. More than anything, you have an overwhelming feeling that something is missing. Or, rather, someones. Plural.  

Hwasa and a few of the women from Ryujin's home dance and giggle beside you. You continue to hold tight to the glass in your hands, eyes trailing back to the front entrance over and over. You would like to dance and sway and get to know the other women a little better, especially since they have stolen your pretty friend's attention. But you feel glued in place with a budding, blooming sense of enrapture and intrigue.

You sigh, drain the contents of your glass of water, and spin on your toes to lean against the bar and perceive a different, calmer perspective. As you set the glass down on the wooden bar top and stand taller in order to get the tender's attention, deciding that perhaps you would like more whiskey to take the edge off, two large, warm hands cover your eyes. 

"Guess who," a rich, playful male voice says, and you grin, lifting your hands to cover his long fingers. 

"Taehyung," you say, heart pounding, chest filling with warmth. 

His hands fall away, and you spin around quickly, unable to hold back glee at the sight of Taehyung standing before you. He is dapper in a deep purple suit with a gold brooch of a tiger on his lapel and a caduceus on his breast pocket, connected by two gold chains.

"Finally," you say, slamming forward into a hug that he hesitates to return. Your arms slide around his ribs, and you flay your fingers open against his back, breathing in his earthy, spicy cologne that carries floral notes reminding you of Jeongguk. You squeeze, and he chuckles as his arms engulf you, gently squeezing back. 

"I have a surprise for you," he says as you break the hug, keeping your arms loosely around his waist. 

It feels good to hug—really fucking good—and you do not want to stop. You tilt your head to the side, glancing up into his devious eyes. "A surprise?"

Taehyung's eyes study yours, then he leans close and says, "Your pupils are quite dilated. What are you on?"

"Molly," you admit somewhat sheepishly. "Not too much, though. Didn't want a repeat of last time."

Although you have not spoken with Taehyung about last time, you assume that Jeongguk has. He gives a knowing nod. 

"There are many factors that can cause someone to have a bad high," Taehyung explains, "one of which is allowing oneself to spiral into a negative thought loop. Sometimes even the best uppers struggle to fight against our demons. If you feel yourself going down that path, you can either do your best to reroute your thinking or remove yourself from the situation entirely."

You nod along, in appreciation of Taehyung's advice. However, it is all a bit too much—too stuffy, too serious—and you lose your patience for it. 

Grinning, you ask, "What's my surprise?"

Taehyung chuckles. "I left it somewhere secluded and secretive." He holds out a hand and adds, "Follow me?"

You take Taehyung's hand and allow him to tug you along. Intrigue and excitement simmer through you, pulsing to the beat of the music but also to that of your heart. The path he drags you through is a familiar one: dark curtains, a narrow hallway that leads to a red-lit stairwell snaking deep into the building. The last time you were here, things were so different. You were so new to this world. So inexperienced. 

What are you afraid of? Yoongi had asked, pressuring you into trying cocaine. Don't you trust me?

You shake the thought away, doing your best to remember what Taehyung said about keeping a positive mindset. After all, the visit here wasn't all that bad. The tone of his voice when he proudly proclaimed, that's my girl, made all of the pressure feel better. Things had gotten pretty exciting up until Namjoon called. Warmth snakes up your neck to your cheeks at the memory. Namjoon called, and Yoongi let him sit on the line while he finished eating you out. 

At the bottom of the stairs, all the black doors are closed but one, which is cracked ever so slightly open. A soft purplish glow shines in a sliver from the bottom and right side of the door at the far end of the hall. Your palm prickles with sweat in Taehyung's hand, and you do your best not to wobble, feeling the full force of excitement laced with joy. And then Taehyung halts in place halfway to the door. 

"Ah," he says, releasing your hand, "I nearly forgot."

In a swift movement, Taehyung removes a black piece of cloth from the breast of his jacket and places it over your eyes. Before you can so much as gasp, the cloth is tied tightly and he is taking your hand in his once more. 

"You may commence walking," he says before tugging you along, and you stumble somewhat, legs struggling to keep up. 

You think you hear voices, but then Taehyung snaps his fingers several times, louder than you have ever heard someone snap their fingers before. And then all you hear is the sound of downtempo music, footsteps, and your whooshing pulse. 

A door closes, and you are led further. Then you are stopped.  

"We thought it might be fun to play a game," Taehyung says as he lets go of your hand. You hear and feel him stepping away, possibly behind you, before two warm hands are placed on your shoulders. His voice is close to your right ear as he says, "A guessing game."

You smile widely. "And what do I win?"

There is a pause. Beside your left ear, he says, "Pleasure."

Goosebumps cover you and you let out a long, deep sigh, biting on your lower lip. Although you cannot see who is in the room, you can sense them. Colognes mingle in the air, all familiar, all filling you with desire. 

In your right ear, he asks, "Are you ready, mon chéri?" 

You swoon from the term of endearment, from the accent in which he utters it, from his closeness. Although your relationship with Taehyung differs from the others, you feel a deep sense of longing toward him—a kinship that extends just beyond the boundaries of something platonic.

"Yes," you say, breathy. Eager. 

Taehyung's hands tighten on your shoulders, and then he steps away, leaving you to stand alone, suddenly a bit cold. "Keep your hands at your sides at all times," he tells you.

You nod, smiling sweetly. 

"Yes, sir," he says in a commanding tone, and you let out a surprised gasp. 

You respond, "Yes, sir," but your voice is light and breathy. You expect him to reprimand you and tell you to speak louder, but he does not. 

"You are going to feel a touch," Taehyung says from just to your right, slightly behind you. "Perhaps you will detect a scent. You only have one guess per man. Answer incorrectly and they leave the room. Answer correctly, and they stay."

Leave the room? Anxiety swells knowing the stakes are so high. You swallow the lump that slowly forms in your throat and take a deep breath. You know your men. There is no way you are going to lose this game. 

"How many are there?" you ask, worried Seokjin, Hoseok, or Jimin could be lingering somewhere, ready to throw you off. 

Taehyung sighs, and you smile slightly.

"There are three, as well as myself. But I am not playing."

You nod and lick your lips. You can handle this, you tell yourself. This should be easy. 

"Let us begin," Taehyung says.

You stand up straight, rolling your shoulders back as if good posture will give you any sort of advantage. Something in the room seems to shift, and you hear the rustle of fabric but not shoes. Unfair, you think, determined that you would be able to identify Yoongi's walk, if not the others. 

Before you feel a touch, you detect a scent: spring morning, fresh and bright. You smile, lick your lips, and open your mouth, ready to greet Namjoon. But then you feel the backs of fingertips grazing your cheeks, and there is a musk that follows, which does not match the rest of the cologne. 

The touch is delicate, trailing from your temple to below your ear, down the length of your neck. Your head turns, chasing the touch and the scent before fingers fall away. Silence hangs as you stand and wait, unsure whether you should guess. And then those hands grip you by the hips from behind, large and warm and so familiar. 

As you inhale, thinking about all the times those hands have held you like this—all those times bent over and begging—you exhale and mutter through an aroused sigh, "Yoongi."

The fingers dig, grip tightening, and you picture his sharp, devious smile. And then the touch disappears, and you hear the rustling of more fabric. 

Two hands grip onto your hips from in front of you, and you can feel the heat radiate from him, sensing he has stepped very close. He leans and rests his forehead against yours, and the bouquet of scents is unmistakable. 

"Jeongguk," you declare, and the touch recedes completely. 

In the seconds that pass before you detect the same blend of colognes as before, you begin to worry you may have guessed incorrectly the first time. It seems clear that Yoongi and Namjoon are trying to trick you, and you are certain that Yoongi has touched you the way the first man had. But, as far as you know, Namjoon could have, too. The grip on your hips felt like Yoongi—of that, you are certain. You take a deep breath and do your best to calm your nerves, but the drug has you feeling antsy. 

Fingers cradle your chin, and you part your lips instinctively. Rather than a kiss, you feel the slow press of a thumb before the hand slides down, and the fingers splay across your throat. Typically, it is Yoongi who touches you this way, and you begin to panic, worrying more than ever that you chose the wrong man. 

But then you focus on the feeling of the hand. It is large, warm, soft, and familiar, but it is not Yoongi's hand. It slides away, and then two hands gently grab your ribs as if steadying you or readying you for a hug. You can tell these men are trying to trick you, but it is not going to work because you know these hands. 

"Namjoon," you say, voice broken behind the sudden urge to cry. 

Footsteps approach from behind—Taehyung, undoubtedly—and then the cloth is lifted from your eyes, and you are left blinking to adjust to the red and purple lights cast from various bulbs, focusing on Namjoon's beautiful smile. His muscles strain under a jacket that is too tight for him, and you giggle as you step forward, causing his hands to slide around your back as you lean close for a kiss. But you stop just before meeting his lips as you notice something is different.

"Your hair," you say as you reach a hand up and rub it over a short stubble. He has a buzzcut, even all around with neatly shaven edges. 

Namjoon nods slightly, but seems more interested in that kiss you interrupted than explaining the new look. He presses close, hums with pleasure, and holds you tight, licking firmly into your mouth in a way that nearly makes your knees buckle. You are too high to do anything but allow yourself to be tasted and touched, and as soon as he breaks the kiss, you mutter, "Does this mean I've won?"

Yoongi approaches from the right, stepping behind you and placing his large hands on your hips. You lean into him, smiling at Namjoon as Yoongi says, "You even saw through our parlor trick."

You pout, raising a hand to gently slap it over Namjoon's pec. He holds your hand in place, sandwiching you between their two bodies while two sets of lips claim your shoulders and neck. 

"We had faith in you," Namjoon teases, making you feel all the more petulant. 

You whine, "But what if I guessed wrong?"

Yoongi nips at your neck, forcing you to giggle and close your eyes. His voice is barely above a growl as he says, "Then you would have fucked Jeongguk while Namjoon and I took another room." 

"Not funny," you whimper as hands rove your sides, grazing below your breasts and squeezing at your hips. You feel so good, but you also want to cause as much trouble as possible for these two. "I've missed you."

Fingertips cradle your chin, guiding you to turn your head to the right. 

"What's the matter, doll?" Jeongguk asks, "Didn't you miss me?"

Your eyes blink open to find Jeongguk scowling at you. His satin leopard print shirt is unbuttoned below his pecs, and you allow your eyes to fall, taking in each hint of skin you can see. It is apparent that he is trying to appear angry, but his gaze is soft, almost loving. 

Do you think you could fall for someone like me?

You push the thought away and reach an arm just far enough to hook a finger on Jeongguk's slacks and pull him close. As he stumbles and looms over you, you grin, tilting your chin toward him, wishing you could stretch yourself a little taller. 

Jeongguk chuckles and leans in just close enough to press your lips together. You want more, straining toward him, but then he backs away and begins to fully unbutton his shirt. 

"Our buttercup is high on molly," Taehyung announces, met with a chorus of hums and gasps. You bite your lip and sheepishly nod, eyes on the large swath of Jeongguk's bare stomach and chest. 

"How high are you?" Yoongi groans against your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed from his touch, and you press your ass against him. Although you had somewhat forgotten about the molly, now you feel it absolutely shimmering through you. "Quite high."

Namjoon presses himself close and licks over your lips, then asks, "I bet you're pretty turned on, then, hmm?"

You smile. "How could I not be?"

"I have just the thing," Taehyung says as he walks past you to the center of the room. He disappears behind Namjoon, then reappears with a step stool that he places down and begins to climb. 

Only now do you realize that there is something on the ceiling, which Taehyung unravels with quick movements. You have to heavy-blink several times to realize it is a sex swing. 

"Undress her," Taehyung says.

Namjoon grins wide and devious, then says, "Yes, sir," just loud enough.

Two sets of hands make quick work unzipping your dress and yanking it—pushing it to the floor. You wobble and stumble as you step out of your boots and socks, clinging to Namjoon's shoulders while Yoongi, on his knees, assists you. Standing in only fishnets and panties, you feel simultaneously warm and cold as Yoongi stands, trailing his fingertips up the backs of your legs. He hooks his fingers into the netting of your borrowed stockings right in the crotch and roughly rips a hole in them, making you tremble and gasp. 

"Fuck, I have missed you," Yoongi growls, hands roughly gripping your hips. Namjoon nods, eyes roving your body hungrily. 

"On the swing," Taehyung instructs. "On your back."

Namjoon turns and leads you toward the swing. It looks like nothing more than an amalgamation of straps, and you watch as he clumsily lifts and attempts to sort them. With an exasperated huff, Taehyung steps forward, grabs onto the contraption, and simply presents it in a way that looks like a swing. You are surprised and amused, and you turn, stepping close to it and allowing Taehyung to lift you into it. 

You giggle, and your head spins as your legs are maneuvered through straps and spread. It feels strange to trust these bits of rough fabric to hold you up, and you grip onto two sturdy straps that are connected to the ceiling brace while the swing is adjusted beneath you, and you are gradually convinced that it is safe to lie back. 

"Darling," Yoongi teases through a chuckle as he unbuttons his dress shirt. "You look so worried. Relax."

You watch intently, chest heaving with each breath. Although you are eager for the events that are transpiring, you are also very high, verging on feeling overwhelmed. Not to mention, your heart feels ripped into warring halves—one part wanting to experience Yoongi and Namjoon again, and the other worried that it is a very bad idea. 

Yoongi's black shirt is untucked from his slacks and slid off his broad shoulders by Namjoon, whose eyes are on you. He gently drapes the shirt over the edge of the large bed to your left, then returns, unbuttoning his cufflinks while Yoongi steps forward and gets down on his knees. It is difficult to keep your eyes on him; your eyelids flutter with the urge to close them and become lost to the drugs. But you remain as laser-focused as possible. 

"Fuck," Yoongi says as he roughly spreads your legs, warm, calloused fingers yanking fabric to the side and digging into soft skin. "You have no idea how much I have missed this."

You open your mouth to say me too, but the first syllable is lost to the feeling of Yoongi's tongue against your clit. A loud moan rolls from your lips, chased by an intense wave of pleasure that courses through your limbs, causing your head to fall. Yoongi does not give you a chance to catch your breath, sucking and licking while making the most depraved sounds—groaning like a man who is finally satiated after days of fasting. Pleasure builds quickly, and you can already imagine the deep, pleased laugh he makes before teasing you for cuming too quickly. 

The sound of a zipper causes you to open your eyes, and you find your head, which is hung back in ecstasy, level with Namjoon's crotch. Reluctantly, you reach back, gasping both from pleasure and the feeling of the swing shifting and swaying from the movement. 

Yoongi, either helpful, impatient, or both, grips your thighs tightly, holding you in place. You rub your hands over the sides of Namjoon's legs, licking your dry lips, wishing you had water. Namjoon lets his slacks slide down, and the fabric tumbles to the ground. A particularly slow lap over your cunt causes you to shiver and moan, losing focus on the prize above your semi-upside-down head, and Namjoon chuckles as he palms the tight dark cloth over his growing erection. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean back, head fully upside down, sinking into the pleasure that claws at you so fiercely, you are moments away from bursting. Clothing rustles, metal clangs, and you feel hands on your legs and ankles lifting and spreading you while Yoongi continues to suck and lick. It is clear that you are being restrained, with fabric encircling your ankles and keeping them suspended high. When you open your eyes and attempt to take in the scene, you realize you are tilted back too far to see Yoongi's head between your legs. Instead, you see Jeongguk towering over him. 

Fingers breach your entrance, sliding easily despite the tight sting, causing you to whimper. Yoongi's thick knuckles graze deliciously past your walls, and as you relax to his intrusion, his tongue and lips match the steady pace of his hand, bringing you crashing instantly with orgasm. Your head falls back hanging as you squeal and gasp, so overcome with bliss that you feel the urge to crawl out of your skin. You tremble wildly, held tightly in place as your legs yank against their restraints. Yoongi does not slow or stop, and you find yourself gasping for breath and practically screaming from pleasure. 

"That's it, doll," Jeongguk practically growls, voice deep and lust-laced. "Make a fucking mess of him."

Only now do you hear the release squelching wetly from you with the movement of Yoongi's hand. Liquid sprays on your thighs, and you gulp for air, no longer able to moan, simply heaving each breath in and out of your tired lungs. 

Yoongi removes his mouth and slides his fingers free. When he stands, you notice his mouth glistening, and he makes a show of licking you from his fingers with a hum. Namjoon, who is nude, thick cock erect and level with your face, steps around the swing, meeting Yoongi halfway, and licks your cum from his chin and lips. They kiss deeply, hungrily, lapping your taste from one another, and you watch reverently, wishing for one of them to kiss you in that way—too need you in that way. How is it, you wonder, that you can be practically nude, restrained, covered in your own cum, and the center of attention, and still feel such a deep, aching sense of loneliness and dread?

The feeling fades as skin rubs over your cunt, soft yet firm. You turn your head, slowly as if in a dream, and find Jeongguk standing between your legs with his satin leopard shirt unbuttoned and his slacks open, cock standing erect between the parted zipper. He glares down at you like an animal who has caught his prey, and you part your lips to take a deep, eager breath, feeling at a loss for words. 

"May I?" Jeongguk asks, rubbing his cockhead over you once more—undoubtedly the sensation you felt moments ago. 

You nod, head turning once more to watch Yoongi and Namjoon paw at one another, connected at the lips, then return your gaze to Jeongguk. He stares down at you as if in waiting, so you croak out a soft, "Please."

"Please, what?" Jeongguk asks. 

Licking your lips, you notice Taehyung standing over Jeongguk's shoulder, dark eyes on you. You are high enough that you wonder whether he would like to fuck you, as well. And with a lift of one of his eyebrows, you wonder whether he has somehow just read your mind, although it is more likely that he is encouraging you to answer Jeongguk.

"Please fuck me," you finally say to Jeongguk, though you have failed to rip your gaze from Taehyung. His hands are nowhere to be seen, and you can't help but imagine him touching himself to the sight of you. 

"Slowly," Taehyung says, eyes on you. "Make her beg a little more."

Jeongguk grins, responds with a sharp, "Yes, sir," and steps forward. His cock rubs against you again, grazing over your clit before catching on your entrance, and you hold your breath in anticipation. Only he does not press forward. He does not enter you. Instead, he stands watching you with a hint of a grin that spells trouble. And you are not too proud to beg. 

"Jeongguk," you mutter, wiggling in the swing, doing your best to push yourself forward but doing nothing that helps your cause whatsoever. "Please."

"Please, wh—"

"Fuck me!" you practically scream. 

Jeongguk chuckles, as does Taehyung. To your right, where Yoongi and Namjoon had been connected at the lips, the shapes and shadows of them move to stand behind you. 

"Please," you say again, knitting your brow, attempting to hold your head up despite how tired your neck feels. You hold eye contact as well as you can manage, but your eyelids flicker against your will. "Please fuck me. I need you."

Hands reach and grab your breasts—tan, lithe fingers; Namjoon's hands. He squeezes you firmly and rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, causing you to exhale and almost drop your head. You want to feel full so badly, and you wish Jeongguk would cave. 

"I said go slow and make her beg," Taehyung says as his hands snake around Jeongguk's waist and rub over his chest and stomach, "not leave her empty and desperate."

Jeongguk's eyes fall to your cunt, where he rubs himself languidly over you, teasing your parted lips and ghosting over your hole. He appears hypnotized, staring down at you, barely moving. This makes Taehyung snicker and paw a little more aggressively at his chest. 

"If you won't fuck her, I'm sure someone else will," Taehyung says, gaze roving between your pussy and your face. "You don't want to lose your chance, do you, baby?"

You attempt to read his expression, wondering whether he is insinuating that he will be the one to finally fill you the way you need—a thought that you are not sure you should be having but that the drugs will not let you let go of. Neck tired, you drop your head back and shiver, feeling suddenly cold. You begin to become acutely aware of how untouched and naked you are. Even Namjoon's hands have moved away from your chest, leaving you on display. 

"Please, someone," you complain, sounding whinier than you want. You shiver harder, each second seeming to pull you down from your high and cover you in a mist of freezing discomfort. "Touch me."

Warm hands press to your forehead and face, and you look up to see Yoongi leaning over you. His brow is knit, outgrown hair hanging prettily in his face. "Are you coming down?" He asks. 

You nod. You must be; the jittery discomfort is impossible to ignore, and the euphoria feels dull. 

"Hang on, Ggeuk," Yoongi says as he disappears. He rummages through some fabric and reappears. "This is the same as the shit you took upstairs," he says, then, "Open," and you do as you are told, opening your mouth with an exaggerated ahhh sound. The powder that hits your tongue is intensely bitter and antiseptic tasting, causing you to cringe and pucker, desperately gathering all the saliva you can in your mouth and swallowing it down. 

Namjoon, however, takes your mouth and prises it open, then leans close and dribbles cold water from his lips to yours. When and where Namjoon produced water, you are unsure, but you open wide, accepting his offering graciously, allowing it to drip down your throat, taking traces of the unpleasant flavor with it. 

"More?" he asks, and you nod, still feeling the lingering drugs on your tongue. Namjoon lifts a glass to his lips, fills his mouth, and then leans close, allowing it to spittle out and onto your tongue. 

Once Namjoon is finished, he stands and takes a step back. Yoongi steps close and, taking advantage of how wide open your mouth still is, begins to tap the head of his cock against your tongue. You attempt to open wider—attempt to move closer—reaching back in the hopes of grabbing onto him and moving him near enough to allow you to suck his dick. However, even he seems eager to tease, and he keeps himself just out of reach. You whimper and moan, mouth lolled open. Namjoon chuckles and reaches once more to paw at your breasts, keeping his beautifully erect cock too far from reach, as well. 

"You guys are the worst," you pout, closing your mouth to Yoongi's teasing and jutting out your bottom lip instead. 

"Alright," Yoongi chuckles, reaching for your jaw. "No more teasing. Jeonggukah, fuck her right now or Namjoon will take your place."

You miss whatever snarky remark Jeongguk says in favor of loudly saying, "Finally!" 

Hands grip your thighs, and you are speared unceremoniously and somewhat unyieldingly on Jeongguk's thick, hard cock. The sensation makes you squeal, involuntarily bucking your hips, and he grips tightly, forcing you to take his entire length all at once. 

"Fuck," you pant, mouth hung open and attempting to angle your head upward to watch Jeongguk fuck you. But your head is held in place as two fingers press down on your tongue, causing drool to pool before those fingers are replaced with a dick. 

Suddenly, you are too full, worked from both ends—gently on one end and rather roughly on the other. You attempt to breathe and relax as your throat is slowly but eagerly opened and fucked, all the while Jeongguk's thighs slam against you in a rhythm that jostles you and causes you to deepthroat who you presume to be Yoongi.

Had Taehyung's earlier game been testing whether you would be able to tell the difference between their dicks in your mouth with you down on your knees, you think you would have easily won. You think you would know any part of them inside any part of you. But at this angle, unable to even properly see the legs of the man who holds you so tenderly but eagerly, with Jeongguk pounding into you like a ravenous beast, you are stumped. Everyone in the room seems to be moaning and gasping, and you imagine that whoever's dick is not in your mouth is in someone else's hand, judging by the sound of skin rubbing against skin. The hands on either side of your face could be mismatched; in this position you are unable to guess.

As the head of the mystery cock presses even deeper into your throat, however, seemingly stretching and opening you in a new, exciting way, the shattered, blissful sound that rips out belongs to Yoongi, and all at once, you are certain that it must be him. And then he pulls out, trailing long strings of saliva from deep in your throat that turn cold the second they hit the air and fall against your chin and down to the floor, bringing Yoongi's paler thighs into view. You gasp for air but allow fingers to press against your tongue. Only now are you able to fully focus on the way your pussy is stretched and pounded so well, and you moan unabashedly, your body quaking its way toward another orgasm. 

It occurs to you that you must be high again, but this time from cocaine. The powder Yoongi dropped onto your tongue certainly tasted like the molly you had earlier, but also something else—a combination, no doubt.

Yoongi's hand grips your neck and holds your head up at an angle that allows you to fully see Jeongguk. He is naked and covered in sweat, fingers digging into your skin, and he looks stunning as he fucks you as hard as he seems able to. As the hand presses against your throat and another hand belonging to Namjoon snakes through the straps of the swing and begins to rub over your clit, you explode from pleasure. 

Jeongguk's expression widens from alarm and pleasure, and he has to keep from getting pushed out of your cunt as wave after wave crashes over you. When he finally does pull out, he is sprayed with your release, giving you only seconds to scream from the intense orgasm that Namjoon urges out with his swirling fingertips before Jeongguk's cock is back inside you, slamming hard. 

Only when Jeongguk pulls out and takes a step back do you see Taehyung in the shadows down on his knees. He opens his lips, and Jeongguk slides his glistening cock inside, moaning as Taehyung finishes him off, swallowing his cum. You spiral on the thought of Taehyung also tasting you but are distracted by Namjoon stepping in front of the scene, stroking his cock and looking down at the mess that is your spread, dripping pussy. 

You expect him to fuck you, but he falls to his knees to lap over your cunt and thighs. He prods three long fingers inside you, and you sigh against the hand still at your throat, lost to bliss. It is incredible how easily you cum, even as your high begins to build once more and the tingling nearly feels like too much to bear. When Yoongi's hand lifts from your throat, you feel somehow dizzier, watching as he steps around the swing to join Namjoon on his knees. 

Everything is a momentary blur as Namjoon and Yoongi take turns between your legs, using their lips, tongues, and hands to make you unravel past the point of becoming non-verbal. You are vaguely aware of hands on your face, throat, and breasts, feeling the presence of Jeongguk behind you at times and beside you at others. The only constant is Taehyung standing ahead, in shadow, watching. 

You take Jeongguk's cock in your throat and drool shamelessly, making as much of a mess as the men between your legs are. In waves, you feel pleasure acutely, bursting through each inch of you, only for it to dull out while you focus on opening your throat as far as it will go. It feels like a dream the way you are touched and used; the dim red and purple lights seem to streak each time you open your eyes. 

It is only when your legs are released from the restraints and you are forced to sit up that you feel fully in your body once more and aware of the room and its inhabitants. You hum questioningly and wipe drool from your chin as the straps are moved from beneath you, and you are made to place your feet on the floor in a squatting position.

Below you, Namjoon lies back against the carpet, atop what looks like a bedsheet, and he reaches up to take you by the hips and pull you down. You spear easily on his thick, hard cock, gripping onto the straps of the swing that connect to the ceiling high above your head on either side for stability, and use your leverage to lift and lower yourself. Namjoon meets you halfway, thrusting his hips upward, and the sensation pulls a raspy moan from your mouth—the first sound you have made in a while. 

You bounce eagerly on his dick, lost in the movement while your head lols, and you moan unabashedly, so full and at such an incredible angle. Hands paw at your breasts and face, and you open your eyes to find Yoongi to your left, cock leaking and eager. Your lips are sore from stretching around cocks, but you are happy to comply, sucking him only half as deep as you would like but humming and moaning and drooling just for him.

Namjoon holds you in place by the hips and fucks hard and fast, causing you to drop Yoongi from your mouth and scream through an intense, dizzying orgasm. Yoongi gets onto the floor in time to lap over your cunt and make you quake from overwhelming pleasure, and then you feel Namjoon's hips still as he fills you with his hot release.

Your legs shake as you are pulled to your feet and maneuvered. You release the straps of the swing and barely catch sight of the bed before you are bent over the edge of the mattress with one large hand pressing the side of your face firmly against the comforter. 

"Yes, please," you beg, desperate for the way Yoongi holds you down and makes you his. 

"Please, what?" he asks, voice low and close, breath hot against your face. 

"Fuck me, Yoongi. Please."

You feel the tip of his cock graze over your entrance, catching on the stretched and ripped fishnet fabric that once covered you. Your lips open and close, dragging over the soft bedding, unable to fully voice your need and desire. It almost feels unfair that you should get to enjoy him last. 

"You miss my cock this much?" he asks, and you realize you have been grinding your ass against him like a bitch in heat. 

You nod, winning you a smack against the ass that stings enough to make you squeal. Yoongi squeezes the spot where he slapped and says, "Use your words," in a sharp, commanding tone. 

"Yes, sir," you whine. "I've missed your cock. Please. Please, please."

Yoongi lessens the press of your face but keeps his hand on your cheek, holding you in place, showing you that it is he who calls the shots. He rubs his cock over your hole and then presses slow and deep, forcing you to gasp and tremble. You feel sore and used, but you are desperate for more—for him. There is a part of you that is glad it is only the two of you in this moment.

Yoongi starts slowly with one hand on your face and the other on your ass, spreading you. He pulls and pushes in long strokes that you feel each and every inch of, driving you absolutely insane with want. Then he lifts his hand from your face, making you acutely aware of the fact that you had been drooling a cold spot onto the blanket. Both hands find your hips, and you lift your head in time for Yoongi to snap forward, making your back bow with pleasure. 

He fucks you hard and fast, a delicious rhythm that you know by heart. You grip onto the comforter and keep your head lifted, letting out each desperate sound that crawls up your throat, eager for Yoongi to know just how good he makes you feel. He lifts one hand and wraps his fingers around your throat, and you see stars, vision blacking as your eyelids flutter closed and you chase a long, rolling orgasm that seems to build and crash, over and over, until your legs are shaking and your body falls limp.

Yoongi continues to use you, slapping and squeezing your ass. "So fucking perfect for me," he moans, thighs crashing against you in loud slaps that burst loudly in the otherwise quiet room. 

You nearly forget that it is not just the two of you in existence, that there are other bodies in this room, more bodies upstairs, infinite other bodies in the world. The urge to cry builds and breaks, tears wetting your cheeks and the blanket as Yoongi's thrusts slow into deep rolls, filling you so perfectly. Yoongi must have given you more of the drug cocktail than you managed to suck from Hwasa's fingertip the first time because you feel more high than you have all night. Immensely high. High in a way that makes you question whether you have ever loved another person as much as you love Min Yoongi—in this moment, but in the soft, quiet moments, as well. 

Yoongi moans and digs his fingers into your skin, then he cums deep inside you. Rather than pull out, he lies forward, draping his body over yours, panting against you, and pressing you forward. It is awkward the way your bodies are bent, and it makes you giggle. Yoongi chuckles in return, then slowly begins to stand. He presses his lips to your neck and shoulders, then his warmth retreats, leaving behind sweat that turns cold and makes you shiver. 

It occurs to you that you will need to move, and you groan. The thought of standing—of using your legs at all—feels impossible. Luckily, a warm hand presses against your lower back, and Namjoon's deep, sweet voice instructs you to stay where you are. A warm cloth rubs over your sore cunt, and you jolt before relaxing into the touch. He wipes you down, then leans close and kisses your neck and shoulder similar to the way Yoongi had. 

Yoongi and Namjoon—wearing black slacks but no shirts, glistening with a sheen of sweat—assist you with getting fully naked before gathering your clothing. You are given a dry, clean pair of panties, which Yoongi pulls from the pocket of his jacket, flashing a sheepish grin as he tucks the soiled pair in their place. The stockings are ruined and tossed aside, and Yoongi apologizes for not knowing to bring another set.

"You owe Hyejin," you say with a raised eyebrow, attempting to seem upset about the inconvenience to your friend but unable to keep from smiling. 

You realize now that Taehyung and Jeongguk are gone, and you wonder whether they are in another room or have gone back up to the party. You mean to ask, but you are still too floaty to focus on anything but the hands on your body, zipping your dress and stepping each foot into socks and boots. As Yoongi slides his arms into a black satin shirt, you lean half-sitting against the bed, watching him. You have missed those hands, that hair, those muscles. Everything about him. And yet, you are frozen in a limbo of sorts, even now hesitating to reach out and touch him. 

His jacket is draped over the end of the bed to your right, and you watch as he walks past, picks it up, and puts it on. You feel mesmerized by his presence, by the slight ringing in your ears, by your body continuing to fully return to itself. You are unsure whether it is the drugs or the sex, or likely both, but you feel as if you are still somewhat tethered to your corporeal form but not fully inhabiting it. 

Yoongi runs his hands down his front, smoothing down his jacket, then turns to hand Namjoon his. They lean close, smile sweetly, and share a soft, slow kiss. Then Yoongi pulls his phone from his slacks pocket, thumbs around, and smiles. 

"Tae wants the stash," he says. 

Finally, you ask, "Where did they go?"

"Next door," Namjoon replies as he straightens his jacket, which covers a black satin shirt matching the one Yoongi wears. 

Yoongi steps forward and uses his fingertips to tilt your chin upward. You expect a kiss and part your lips, but Yoongi uses his thumbs to rub at what you imagine is very smeared makeup. Once he is satisfied, he hums and places a kiss against the tip of your nose. He attempts to step back, dropping his hands from your face, but you are unsatisfied, and you grab onto the lapels of his jacket, yanking him toward you with a force that makes the two of you stumble.

"Not so fast," you mutter before your lips meet. You sigh into the feeling and continue to grip his jacket, relaxing only as Yoongi's arms encircle your waist and pull you close.

He deepens the kiss, and tears streak down your cheeks, hot and fast. You chase his tongue, licking, tasting him, tasting yourself, drowning in this moment, in him. And then your tears turn into sobs, and you break the kiss and fall into Yoongi's chest. You tell yourself that it is just the drugs, that you are simply overwhelmed, but you know that is not the full truth. You love him. You miss him. As much as all of this has been an incredible reprieve, the thought of letting him go again feels like a nightmare. 

But what could be a greater nightmare than witnessing your friend get shot, than feeling the crushing weight of another vehicle slamming into yours, than the popping crunch of bullets meeting glass and polycarbonates? Your heart feels ripped in two, and you catch your breath, shaking your head as two deep, concerned voices ask whether you are alright, then attempting to nod, knowing that the gesture is unconvincing. 

"This has all been a lot for you," Namjoon says, warm thumbs stroking your cheeks. You open your eyes to find his sad smile shining toward you and collapse into his chest, still partially in Yoongi's hold. 

The two of them softly shush and stroke you, telling you that you are safe and loved, that they are sorry for how intense everything has become, how they should have known you would need more aftercare. 

"Want to go back to the hanok?" Yoongi offers. "A dip in the tub might be good for you."

You think about Yoongi and Namjoon in Ryujin's home, and your stomach roils. Everything has been significantly too strange, and that might make matters worse. And there are still people upstairs who you would like to spend time with. One in particular who you feel like you haven't seen in many lifetimes.

"No," you insist, catching your breath. "You're right, it got too intense. I just needed to come back to earth a little more."

Despite being antsy to leave this room that smells like sweat and cum, they continue to comfort you a little longer. It feels nice, and you tilt your head in a way that urges a soft, sweet kiss from Namjoon. Then the three of you finally bid this room farewell, and you walk into the hallway, hand in hand with Yoongi on your left and Namjoon on your right. 

Only, Yoongi pulls away at the first door on the left and knocks, digging into his pocket and pulling out a silver vial that is similar to the one he wears on a chain around his neck, but larger. You wait a beat, breathing deeply in an attempt to get your bearings. At some point, the high must have plateaued because you can feel yourself coming down again, and this time, you are certain that you do not need more powders floating around in your bloodstream. 

The door swings open, and you are shocked to see Taehyung standing in only a pair of dark briefs. His hair is tousled, body is covered in sweat, and there are deep scratches down his chest and arms that are raised and red. Yoongi hands the vial over, which Taehyung takes, nodding his thanks. You look past Taehyung to see a nude Jeongguk in the middle of the room, restrained to a sex swing but standing—well, swaying—with his body limp and head drooped forward. He, too, has deep welts scratched down his arms and chest, as well as other red marks that suggest impact play of some kind.

"He just needs a little pick-me-up," Taehyung says with a wink before disappearing into the room and shutting the door behind him. You remain standing with your mouth agape until Yoongi takes you by the hand, and you are led back upstairs.

Namjoon excuses himself to the restroom, and you consider following, self-conscious about the way you must look after what has taken place. You trust that Yoongi will not bring you back upstairs with messy hair and makeup, but you imagine you must have cried and rubbed off every last trace of eyeshadow and mascara. Still, you are more eager to have a drink in hand and continue with Yoongi into the main hall. 

Your legs tremble as you make your way to the party, and a jolt of fear rips through you at the sight of the man standing behind the bar who looks suspiciously like Christian, causing your step to falter. Yoongi clocks the movement, turning to you with a hum, and you look over to him, to his curious gaze, then ahead, opening your mouth to tell him what you see. Only, you do not see Christian. The bartender has shaggy dark hair and wears all black, but otherwise looks like every other man in the building. Hell, in a dark enough room, with long enough hair, Jeongguk could look enough like Christian to give you pause. 

You chuckle and smile softly, doing your best to play it off. "Just a little shaky from the come-down."

Yoongi hums again, accepting your answer as the two of you continue your approach to the bar. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin stand along the rightmost edge, drinks in hand. Jimin faces you with his elbows against the bar between Seokjin and Hoseok, who seem to be speaking to and around him. They all wear tan suits—Seokjin's and Hoseok's a darker shade with beige ties and burgundy shirts. Jimin's suit is lighter, fitted tighter, and he wears what appears to be a satin ascot tucked into a white shirt with its top two buttons undone and burgundy  suede loafers. 

As you approach, you notice a glazed-over darkness in Jimin's eyes, and you have to wonder whether he has partaken in the drugs. He smiles lazy and open, pushing off the bar and turning momentarily to shove his glass of clear liquid into Seokjin's free hand. Seokjin scoffs as if Jimin's action inconveniences him, but his eyes are soft and loving as he shakes his head and continues his conversation with Hoseok, double-fisting his and Jimin's drinks

A sexy R&B song plays overhead, and Jimin's hips dip and sway as he approaches. You watch his movements, impressed with how fluid and delicate he can be. He lifts his hands when you are close enough and runs fingertips of both hands gently over your temples, to your cheeks, and along your neck. A shiver works its way down your spine, and you grin through slightly clattering teeth. The ascot around his neck has a pretty floral pattern and you feel the urge to touch it.  

"Need more molly, dove?" Jimin asks.

You shake your head, unsure whether you can handle the come-up and come-down again after all that has transpired downstairs—especially given your emotional state, although your nerves seem to have calmed a bit since your episode downstairs.

"Coke?" he offers, pulling a chain around his neck and revealing a large silver cross with roses inlaid all around it. 

With a chuckle, you nod. You have no evidence to support the claim, but you feel like cocaine might even you out. Or it could make you worse. Still, you accept when Jimin unscrews the top of the cross and produces a small spoon connected to his chain that is already full of white powder. You lean close and lift your hand to delicately hold his hand in place and snort the drug into your right nostril. Jimin retrieves one more spoonful, and you repeat the motion on the left side. All the while, Yoongi holds onto your right hand. 

"So," Jimin says, leaning to rest his forehead against yours and speaking as he snorts two small piles of coke and then replaces the spoon. "Yoongi's scar…he won't tell me how it all went down, and you know I will die if I don't have all the gossip."

Yoongi's hold on your hand loosens and falls away, and you attempt to look his way, but you are stuck in place as Jimin's arms snake around your waist. 

"Whiskey, darling?" Yoongi asks, leaning close. 

You try to nod and mutter, "Yes, please. Thank you."

Once he walks away, you sigh and lift your arms to wrap around Jimin. He sways slightly to the music, and you mirror his movements, unable to resist. 

"Are you sure you want to recount that night?" you ask. 

Jimin hums and nods. You can't see much, but you can see him smile. 

You sigh. "After you were shot, I went into a rage." Emotions build, trembling as they fill your chest. Your voice wavers as you say, "Jimin, I lost my fucking mind."

Jimin's arms tighten, and he pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. You sigh and smile, wrapping him in a tight embrace. It is hard not to lament the fact that he has finally woken up and you are not in Seoul to spend time with him. You miss him dearly, and all the chaos that is Paradise. 

Once the hug loosens, you both stand straight, hands still on each other's hips. Jimin sways and heavy-blinks, and you wonder why he is so content wasting his high on this moment when he could be on the dancefloor or tangled downstairs with someone on one of the beds. When he giggles, his entire face lights up. 

"Doll…I don't know what this has to do with his scar."

At this, you swallow thickly and rapidly blink. The cocaine is hitting, and you have to take in a deep breath.  

"Just listen," you say, then swallow again. Jimin frowns. "After you were…" you trail off, unable to say it again. 

Jimin raises his eyebrows, slowly and clearly saying, "Shot."

You let out a breath that is halfway to laughter and nod, causing him to smile in return. "Yes, well, I emptied my clip in the guy's face." Jimin's eyes widen and he gasps. "I'm sure I looked insane just shooting a dead man in the head over and over and…"

The song switches to something slightly more upbeat and Jimin sways harder. You struggle with the mental image of the man on the ground with six bullets turning his face into a pile of gore. The sound of flesh, blood, and bone becoming pulp with each shot echoes in your mind and you swallow thickly, then look over Jimin's shoulder, nodding to Yoongi. You need that drink. 

Yoongi, who leans against the bar between Namjoon on his left and Seokjin and Hoseok on his right, nods once and steps forward, holding a glass of whiskey in each hand. You wonder whether he has stood there just like that this entire time waiting for your signal. Has he been watching you? What must he think, knowing you feel so deeply for him despite being unwilling to return to his home? Does this, too, open a deep scar on his heart matching the one over his eye?

You stand a bit straighter as Yoongi approaches, and Jimin mirrors you then slowly pulls away, giving you distance. He continues to dance, but there is a faraway look in his eye as you reach past him for the drink in Yoongi's hand. 

"Mind if I cut in?" Yoongi asks.

Jimin steps closer, pulling you tight once more, causing your fingers to slip away from the glass that is thankfully still held tightly in Yoongi's grasp. 

"Yes, I fucking mind," Jimin says in a snarky tone. You continue to reach for the drink. "She was entreating me with the wonderfully harrowing tale of how you got that pretty little battle scar, since you won't tell me."

Yoongi groans and rolls his eyes, attempting a smile. But you can tell that there is something else in that expression. Something he does his best to tamp down and keep out of sight. He hands you his drink and nods a little bow before returning to the bar. 

"Touchy subject?" Jimin teases.

You frown, "Well, I was the one who gave him the scar."

Jimin's hold on you drops at the same time his mouth falls open. Suddenly, you want to curl in on yourself, but you opt to lift the whiskey to your lips and take a nice slow swig, instead. It burns against your tongue, much stronger and more flavorful than what you had been drinking earlier in the evening, and it takes you a moment to gather yourself and continue your story. 

"As I said, you were shot and I lost my mind. First, I emptied my clip into the man's head. Then, out of anger over having no more bullets, I tried to bludgeon him with the butt of the gun. But Namjoon caught me and dragged me away, and my weapon was confiscated."

You pause again to take a sip, doing your best to read the expression on Jimin's face. It seems to be a mix of shock and sadness, but also something akin to admiration.

"I was still in a rage, and so I reached for the switchblade that Jeongguk and Taehyung gifted me, which was in a garter on my thigh." You watch as Jimin's expression deepens, and against your will, tears begin to form in your eyes. You rapidly blink, doing your best not to let them fall, and as you continue, your voice wavers. "I took out the knife and attempted to lunge forward. Namjoon caught my hand and pulled it back, and tip must have—"

You remember the way the blade caught and snagged; the way blood leaked between Yoongi's fingers. With a gulp, you finish your drink. Jimin thumbs at the tears you are unable to prevent from falling, then takes your hand and leads you out of the main room and into the hallway, near the restrooms. It is dark and a bit quieter, and he pulls your empty glass from your hand, then wraps you in a hug.

Although you do not feel the urge to fully cry, you lean into the hug and breathe deeply, allowing the tears that have formed to fall. Jimin's hands—which are free of drinkware, and you are unsure how—rub over your shoulders and neck. After a long moment of breathing in Jimin's cologne and settling your heart, you nod and Jimin breaks the hug. You feel exhausted by this night. 

Jimin takes your hand and pulls you into the restroom, which is too brightly lit for comfort, making you squint. He pulls a tube of mascara from the inner breast pocket of his jacket and tilts your face toward him, making you smile. "I spoke to Ryujin about bringing you to Paradise some time soon, if that's something you want."

Your smile widens and you do your best to hold your face as still as possible as you say, "I would love that."

"It will be good for you and Yoongi to be seen together in public more than once in a blue moon," he explains, then finishes his task while adding, "and, of course, we all miss you."

"I miss you, too," you say barely above a whisper. 

Jimin uses water to fuss with your hair, which you opt not to perceive in the mirror, worried about the weathered, sad person you may find staring back at you. Then he leads you back to the bar for shots of something fruity and strawberry-flavored. He and Hwasa pull you to an empty dance cage, and the three of you lose yourselves to the music while multiple tiny piles of cocaine are introduced to your nose and simmer through your body.

It feels nice to let go and dance, to touch and be touched in friendly and flirtatious ways—to feel like, in this moment, you simply exist outside of the mafia families that surround you. It is only when you are panting and exhausted that the three of you leave the cage and seek out water. 

You are tipsy and stumble a bit toward the bar. Taehyung and Jeongguk have returned—Taehyung appearing perfectly put together and Jeongguk looking like he has been to hell and back, shell-shocked with a wide stare and his hair an absolute mess—and you wink at them on your way to the bar. 

As you wait for a glass of water, Yoongi's cologne tickles your senses and large hands begin to paw at you. "I was watching you dance," he says into your ear, voice low and whiskey-laced. 

"Oh?" you ask, smiling but keeping your gaze ahead. The water is set before you, and you gulp it down, feeling the cold absorb into your body, giving you chills. When you turn to Yoongi, his jaw is set as if he is angry, but you know that it is a horny impatience that he masks.

"Darling," he groans, eyes bloodshot, drunk.

You attempt to bite back a smile, but it is impossible, and the sight of your glee seems to make him all the more impatient. Poor guy looks pained. You lean close, high on your toes to whisper, "Baby, I'm sore."

He groans and nods in pained understanding, making you giggle. "Next time I want you all to myself," he insists, and you nod. You would like that.

Namjoon, whose back had been to the two of you turns, notices Yoongi's expression and cocks his head. You let your eyes trail down and then back up as you say, "He has a problem that needs to be taken care of. Be a dear?"

"Ah," he says in understanding. 

Namjoon leads Yoongi off toward the hallway—to the restroom or back downstairs, you imagine. You chuckle and turn back to the bar for another glass of whiskey as Taehyung sidles up to your right, taking Yoongi's place.

"How do you feel?" he asks, leaning close. 

You scoff, making him cock his head. "Good," you say on a deep exhale, facing him. "And you?"

Taehyung grins, eyes sparkling. "Good."

"Good," you say, turning back to the bar. You manage to order another glass of the whiskey Yoongi has been drinking with your eyes ahead, but you can feel Taehyung's intense gaze on you. 

"What?" you complain when a glass is in your hands. You turn toward him but look at the golden tiger on his lapel.

"Just thinking," he says. Annoying.

You lift your gaze to his, asking, "About what?" 

Taehyung licks his lips and says, "You," giving you chills. 

You find it hard to hold his intense stare and drop your eyes to his chest once more, taking a drink of whiskey. 

"Just making sure you're actually doing well," he clarifies. "The scene in there was pretty intense."

"That it was," you say. You feel antsy, though you are not sure why. Could it be due to the way you were thinking about Taehyung while high? You wonder whether you might feel that way about him while sober. 

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asks, quieter.

Suddenly, you feel silly. You were not uncomfortable with Taehyung in the room with you before, and there is no reason you should be now. 

"No," you say, looking him in the eye. "Sorry. You are right that it was intense, and I think I am still spiraling a little from it all."

"My presence there doesn't bother you?"

You open your mouth but hesitate, gaze falling to his mouth as you wonder what he might kiss like. "No," you say, swallowing your pride before continuing. "I like having you there."

"I'm glad," you watch his lips say. You feel silly for staring openly, but it is the first time you ever have. Taehyung really is beautiful, and his soft, semi-rectangular pout intrigues you almost as much as the cold psychopathy you occasionally glimpse in his eyes.

"It is strange?" you ask, looking up into his eyes. The expression you find is just as intense as it was earlier. "Watching, I mean."

Taehyung's eyes trail back and forth between yours. He appears to be gathering his thoughts. When he simply shakes his head and says nothing more, you lift your free hand to smack him on the arm. With a chuckle, he leans close. 

"I like to share and watch, but otherwise not become more involved." You open your mouth and begin to ask why, but he cuts you off, leaning closer. "Nobody can handle my wrath quite like Jeongguk can. I am afraid fucking me is akin to having a near-death experience."

A gasp falls from your lips, in part because you know he is not joking, and because you are so curious to know more. You recall the way Jeongguk looked hanging from his wrists earlier, like a corpse waiting to be butchered. Taehyung chuckles in your ear, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and stands up straight. 

"Trust me, it is an honor to be in audience of you, buttercup. You put on quite the show."

This makes you laugh, pushing all the tension out. You feel silly but relieved and step to the side, away from the bar enough to courtesy and say, "Thank you," winning a deep chuckle from Taehyung. 

Yoongi and Namjoon return—Yoongi looking far better than he had before, and Namjoon with fresh reddened fingerprints around his neck. You lament missing whatever the two of them managed to do so fast but ultimately feel glad to have sorted out whatever it is you were feeling for Taehyung. It is a relief to keep at least some relationships semi-platonic, especially if being fucked by him means putting your safety and well-being at risk. You think that perhaps this revelation explains a lot about Jeongguk. 

You lift your whiskey to your lips, but Yoongi swipes it from your hand, holding stern eye contact as he drinks the entire glass at once. A surge of petulance rises, outmatched only by how much you absolutely adore him with his long, wavy hair and sharp red scar. He makes a dramatic ahh sound as if he had just quenched his thirst with the purest water, then leans into you to set the empty glass onto the bar top. 

"What—" you begin, hoping to ask what his problem is, or perhaps what the fuck he thinks he is doing, but he  mutters, "Come with me," and takes you by the hand, leading you through the hall to the hallway and up into the VIP section, causing you to stumble in haste to keep up. It is vacant in this area, save for a security guard who nods as you pass, and you are pulled to a dark corner that does not look out over the dancefloor or any other space that another living human may be occupying. 

Without saying a word, Yoongi pulls your legitimate engagement ring from his pocket—not the larger one meant for show—and lowers to one knee. Your stomach dips from the movement, and you suddenly feel unstable on your feet. 

"I have a proposition for you," he says, taking your left hand and sliding the cold metal onto your ring finger. You stare at him, not quite ready to perceive the ring on your hand once more. Rather than respond, you simply stare at Yoongi, who licks his lips and glances up at you pleadingly. 

"I could have a house built for you," he says as if it is nothing—as if simply willing a house into existence is as easy to him as loading bullets into a handgun. "Deep on the property, past the gardens and the other homes, where nobody could ever bother you. You can have all the space you desire, but still be close to us."

Tears build, and you feel bile rise to your throat. This offer is enormous and ridiculous, and there is simply no way you would feel wholly safe or comfortable living on the same plot of land as his mansion. You search for what to say, but words fail you. It feels impossible to tell Yoongi to his face that this offer is preposterous, yet you cannot bring yourself to even attempt to consider it. 

He must read the concern on your face, and he sits up a little taller, gripping your hand between his two as if you are suddenly a lifeline that he must not let go of. 

"I can buy you a house in Seoul. Or a penthouse, if you prefer an apartment. You can have a private entrance with my most trusted men guarding, and be a short drive away rather than a long one."

This offer is far more reasonable, but it still worries you. What if news gets out that Yoongi's fiancé is not only living separately from him but that they have managed to spot you coming and going? How difficult would it be for someone like Christian to find you?

"Yoongi, I don't know," you finally say. Your guts roil with uncertainty, and your heart pounds, making you feel nauseated. 

Yoongi nods and smiles, but you can see that he is disappointed. Here before you, down on one knee, is a man who is not used to being told no. This is not how he anticipated this would go, and it is clear that is the case. 

"Alright," he says, standing with your hand still tight between his. He pulls you close for a hug, and you hesitate before lifting your arms to return the embrace. "I am sorry if that was not the right thing to offer. I just thought—"

"No," you say, shaking your head and tilting your face into his neck. You press your lips to his skin. "It was a generous offer, Yoongi. An amazing one, really. I'm just…I don't know. I'm still really afraid."

Yoongi hugs you tighter, and you breathe deeply, eyes closed, silently existing in this moment. It is impossible not to imagine what life with him could be like under any other circumstance, especially now. 

"I understand," he says, pulling back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours. "We can discuss it again if and when you are ready. I am in no rush, darling. Really. I just miss you." Yoongi kisses you softly and says, "I miss you so fucking much."

"I miss you too," you say, doing your best to smile through the tumult of emotion. "It's hell without you, Yoongi. I miss so much about being with you…but there have been so many moments that have had too negative of an impact on my mental health. I don't want this to be forever, though.  And when I'm ready, we can talk about it some more. Really, it is such a kind offer, and I appreciate it more than I could ever say."

Yoongi's expression conveys a deep sadness the likes of which you have never seen. You wish more than anything that you could wave a magic wand and make everything normal. No more drugs, no more guns, no more fires or car crashes. The anxiety that fills you at the thought of watching him return to Seoul without you is similar to the anxiety you feel over staying in a hanok full of strangers in Busan whose intentions you are not completely sure you understand or trust. 

You continue to hold one another for a moment longer, swaying slightly. Whether it is from the alcohol, or the music playing, or the simple enjoyment of the movement, you are uncertain, aware only that it is nice to be here with him like this. 

"I fear we should head back to Seoul soon," Yoongi finally says. 

Of course, the realization is somewhat soul-crushing. Just because you are in no rush to return to his mansion does not mean you want him to hurry back there, either. 

"Tonight?" you ask, leaning back and cocking your head to the side. Yoongi raises his eyebrows, and you shrug. "I just thought maybe you would leave in the morning."

He appears to think it over. "I suppose I could stay for one night."

From one simple sentence, you feel elated. Falling asleep beside Yoongi is something you have come to deeply miss. Except…you frown. 

"I'm not sure how I feel about sleeping under Ryujin's roof with you. Is that weird? Should I not care?"

Yoongi chuckles. He takes your hand and leads you back through the dark VIP area toward the rest of the party. "I have a penthouse nearby, darling."

"Of course, you do," you say with a playful hint of annoyance. Yoongi squeezes your hand, filling you with the same warmth and butterflies that you remember from months past. 

"You can part from your girls for a night?" Yoongi teases as you enter the hallway. 

You scoff. "Meaning, what?"

He leans close and says, "I see the way Hyejin looks at you. Or…what is it you call her…Hwasa? It really rolls off the tongue." Your mouth falls open, and you watch as his smile sharpens into a grin. "Sorry, is the thought of her name on your tongue making you flustered, darling?"

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you have to look away. As the two of you enter the main hall, you glance to the dance cage you were in earlier to find Hwasa and Jimin grinding in the way two platonic queer besties would. She certainly is dressed to impress with her bodice and skirt hugging each of her curves as if the material was cut specifically for her body. Yoongi chuckles darkly and squeezes your hand before letting it go, only to slide it around your waist and tug you close. 

"I wouldn't mind, you know," he says so low that you are not quite sure you heard him. There are no lyrics to the music that plays, but it is loud enough to mask parts of his tone. 

"Hmm?" you ask, turning to look at him. 

"I wouldn't mind," he says, leaning to press a kiss to your lips. "If you wanted to fuck her."

"Oh, my god," you grumble, turning your face away as your cheeks go even hotter. Leave it to Yoongi to be able to have a serious conversation for precisely one brief moment before returning to his natural state of being a feral, horny monster. 

Namjoon spots the two of you and begins to approach, eyes quickly darting down to the ring on your hand as a smile tugs at his lips.

"I am just saying," Yoongi continues, and you wish he would not, "no need to ask permission. The answer is already yes."

Namjoon leans to press a kiss to your lips, then looks between the two of you, asking, "Permission for what?"

You feel antsy and glance around, making sure nobody is around to hear Yoongi say, "For our darling to fuck Hyejin."

"Good god," Namjoon mutters under his breath. You roll your eyes as he adds, "Absolutely, no objections here."

You grumble, "You two are incorrigible," under your breath.

"Ah, Namjoon-ah," Yoongi says as he pulls you closer to his side. His fingertips play with the hem of your dress just below your left breast. "I am afraid I will have to miss tomorrow's activities. Our darling has asked me to stay with her tonight."

Namjoon's smile falters for such a split moment that it is nearly imperceptible. "Ah. No worries, baby. Seokjin and I can handle everything. And, did you ask her about…"

He trails off, but you know what he is hinting at, and a pang of sadness stabs you directly in the gut. 

"I did," Yoongi responds with a sigh, "but she is not quite ready to return to Seoul."

Namjoon nods, taking in a deep breath. You nibble on your bottom lip searching for something to say to him, but nothing feels quite right. Promising for an uncertain future feels disingenuous, even if all you want in this moment is to give sweet Namjoon anything in this world he could want. 

"I'm sorry," is all you can bring yourself to say.

Namjoon shakes his head. His gaze is soft and slightly sad, but so loving. "Will you at least keep the jewelry? And the clothing?" His lips falter, and he glances down at his shoes. "I know they're just material things, but it felt so strange to see it all left behind. You didn't regret receiving any of it, did you?" 

You feel a horrible guilt as Namjoon's gaze lifts to meet yours. How you could have possibly made him think your gifts were not good enough—that you may have regretted them somehow—has you wishing you had never left anything behind. Shaking your head, you step forward, wrap your arms around Namjoon's ribs, and press your face against his chest, listening to his quick, worried heartbeat. 

"Nothing about that night went as planned," you say, squeezing him as tight as you can manage. Namjoon's arms lift and engulf you with warmth. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way. I absolutely love the gifts, especially the jewelry."

You loosen the hug and take a step back, holding Namjoon's gaze. It is devastating how handsome he is with tears glistening in his eyes. 

"If I'm being honest…" you begin, taking a deep breath. "I left the items because I wasn't sure whether you two would be upset with me. After all, I snuck away. I thought…I suppose I thought I wouldn't be worthy of keeping what had been given to me, and so I left it all behind. I felt guilty at the thought of taking any of it, knowing what I would be doing to you."

Namjoon nods in understanding and then pulls you closer. Yoongi follows, sandwiching you between warm bodies that feel and smell like home. You breathe slow and deep, smiling through the exhaustion that engulfs you; you hate to admit that you will not last much longer on your feet. With the promise of visiting Jimin and the others at Paradise soon, you feel a little lighter; a little more willing to part for now. 

Bodies begin to file out as you and your family men crowd the bar for shots. Ryujin and her core group of girls join in, and you all toast and drink, one after another after another until your body is dizzy and heavy and begging to lie down. You hug the women good night, feeling eyes on you as Hwasa wraps her arms around you with a pout.  She takes a step back and whines that she will miss you tonight. When you turn to face the men, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jeongguk all wear curiously devious expressions. 

As you hug Jimin goodbye, he takes a step back to speak but then eyes your dress and boots, and his expression brightens. "Hold on," he says, "this is the outfit you were wearing the day we all met."

You smile widely and nod, impressed that someone has recognized the outfit. Yoongi steps forward and hums a questioning sound. 

"This outfit," Jimin says, "she was wearing it the first time we saw our buttercup."

Yoongi cocks his head to the side and frowns. "The first time?" he asks. 

A moment passes that is brief and confusing. The two share a glance, Jimin with his eyebrows raised, and then Yoongi clears his throat, licks his lips, and says, "Of course. Sorry, darling, the alcohol must have gone straight to my head. I remember now. You were so adorably angry in this dress."

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to be an utter brat. "You forgot what I was wearing the day you spirited me away…not very chauvinistic of you."

Yoongi smiles and chuckles, but there is something in his thoughtful expression that makes you uncomfortable, especially with how Jimin is looking at him as if he has said something unforgivably wrong. That had been the first time they saw you���right? Paranoia rears its ugly head, and you do your best not to allow yourself to travel down roads you have no business visiting. Especially after how emotionally fraught this night has been. After all, Christian had been working for him, so perhaps Yoongi saw you in passing once or twice before. Anything is possible. 

As you continue to wish everyone a good night, it sinks in that you are soon returning to your life free of the men you love, and sadness settles deep within you. But first, you will spend a night with Yoongi in his penthouse on the ocean and you do your best to be in the present moment and not wallow in what is to come. 

Namjoon follows behind in his own car and joins the two of you for a glass of water and a soft, slow makeout session on the couch overlooking the dark sea. He treats you to several blissful orgasms using his skilled lips, teeth, and fingers, and you watch as he and Yoongi take turns cuming in each other's mouths after you regretfully whine that your holes are too sore to accommodate them anymore for the night.

Namjoon slips away with deep promises and soft kisses as you begin to fall fast asleep wrapped around Yoongi's body. You drift off thinking about how warm and solid he is; how your body slots beside his as if the two of you are built for one another. But there is a part of you that also wonders what outfit had been on Yoongi's mind when he was imagining the first time he ever saw you. Were you in that black dress or something else entirely? Had that time at the river been the first time he laid eyes on you, or were there other times? Secret times when you had no idea of his existence. How long might he have been watching you? Of course, you know this line of thinking is ridiculous, and you smile as you bury your nose into his skin and inhale the sweet, musky scent of him. 

You drift deeply, swiftly, remembering what home feels like.

*

i drive fast, wind in my hair i push it to the limit 'cause i just don't care

i've got a burning desire for you, baby

🎵 visit the playlist

❗❗❗ important authors note: as mentioned previously, i am basically condensing everything that was going to be a 20 chapter fic into the last two chapters and the next 6ish chapters. i think you will understand why i chose to do it this way. something to keep in mind: all major warnings are already listed. things in future chapters might seem really, really fucking bad. please trust the author and the tags and don't let me lose you on this ride because i am intentionally going to be vague and non-descript about certain plot points outside of the narrative. i don't like to give things away, which means we might become traumatized together. from this point on, the story is going to shift in a big way. i love you. thank you for reading.

happy new year, my dears! if you observed holidays, i hope they have been good. i hope you have a lovely lunar new year & eat the best foods! if you're on break from class, i hope you get a lot of rest. i got all As last semester, and i bet you also did an amazing job at whatever you got into. i miss you very, very much and i hope to be back soon. 💜

EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IS THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS!!! REBLOGS ARE IMPORTANT BLAHBLAHBLAH LIKES ARE ALSO AMAZING AND SO ON. 💜 tags will be coming in reblogs. also, character asks are always active if you have some burning questions or comments (just don't expect me to outright spoil anything hehehe.)

😘😘😘

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Collateral is copyright 2022-2025 theharrowing, all rights reserved. no translations of reposts allowed.

[mustangbby]

-> happy valentines day!

synopsis -> how some of my favorite genshin women and men celebrate valentines day.

characters -> ningguang, shenhe, yelan, ei, miko, wriothesley, lyney, albedo, kazuha

warnings -> none! all fluff.

w/c -> 1.0k

ningguang is a woman with many riches. the moment her mind processed it was valentines day when she woke up for work was also the moment she hurried over to her wardrobe, digging up a beautiful bracelet made only with diamonds before setting it down on your night table. as she was putting on her clothes, you groaned, waking up. she leaned down to kiss you before telling you to look over on your side of the nightstand, greeted to an outstanding piece of jewelry you could only dream of having. you groggily smiled, putting the bracelet around your wrist before throwing the covers off of your body and hugging your wonderful wife.

shenhe doesn’t really understand the concept of ‘valentines day.’ she knew of it as liyue citizens being cheesy on the streets, and the finest cuisine’s businesses flooding with romance. usually, she’d watch from afar. but ever since you entered her picture, she started to care just a bit more. she’d spend the day with you in the harbor, observing other couples actions before deciding herself what to do. she had decided to buy you a nice box of chocolates and a few clothing items you’ve been eyeing. she bought them with you there, without a word, waiting until you both exited the store to give them to you. when you tightly hugged her, she let out a tiny laugh, hugging you back lightly.

oh? wriothesley, the great duke of the fortress of meropide, celebrating such a holiday? yes! as the morning approached, the first fun little gift you received was his presence in bed, still asleep. ah, he must have taken the day off of work, you thought. he awoke a few moments later, saying his good morning before getting up to start the day with you. he took you out for a very nice breakfast before walking around the inner city. oh, no matter if this were to go into the steambird. charlotte is probably lingering somewhere, eager to catch a rare sight of the duke on the surface. he brought you to an isolated part of fontaine, a gorgeous view, and making sure nobody was in sight, got down on one knee and pulled out an extraordinary ring from his pocket, holding it out to you.

lyney is most certainly going to celebrate valentines day, with a valentine or not. whether it’s performing card tricks that turn into roses for men with a romantic partner, or actually celebrating it with his significant other. he’ll perform a very special magic performance, just for your eyes, not even lynette or freminet have seen it! gorgeous, glittering roses in your favorites of colors come drifting from nowhere, landing in your hair. only the finest for you! he’ll absolutely spoil you with a dinner that certainly cost one hefty sum of mora… you really, truly hope today won’t make him bankrupt.

yelan will spoil you, without a doubt. she doesn’t care much about the holiday itself, what she does care for though is that you get what you desire on such a day. she’ll take you anywhere you would like! she also likes to save the fanciest restaurants for days like these in specific. you saw a restaurant in mondstadt during your last visit? she’ll take you, and you’ll spend the night in the city of wind. she’ll do anything for you no matter, and she’ll top it off with a cute box of chocolates and a bouquet. she’s not quite the person for overwhelming affection, so she’ll give these things to you in subtle ways, behind the safety of your walls.

oh, ei. from being in such a state of meditation for so long, this woman barely grasps the concept of christmas! do not fret, she’s a quick learner. (but don’t ask her to cook. that is something she will not be able to learn.) once you explain to her what valentine's day is, and also take her to get a small rundown of the holiday from yae miko, she nods before immediately dashing off to find an exquisite treasure at a nice shop downtown. of course, considering she’s in a very high position in inazuma, she gets cheaper prices on all of the trinkets, she absolutely spoils you! she’s also willing to walk around other islands with you, to admire the scenery before pulling out the things she got you and proceeding to make it a day worth remembering.

yae miko has lived long enough to understand what valentines day is. she see’s romance on the streets during those days, and she’s even published a light novel on two lovebirds on a holiday such as this. so do not underestimate how long she has planned your gift, as soon as you wake up you are greeted to a small book laying on your pillow. you go to open it, reading such a beautiful story about how you two fell in love. it was two completely different characters re-enacting your story. she comes into your shared bedroom, sitting down with you before rubbing your thigh, a look that cannot be told between a smirk and a light smile dancing across her gorgeous face.

albedo didn’t see the significance at first. of any holiday, people choose to celebrate this one? isn’t that what anniversaries are for? though, once he sees how important it is to you, he crafts a beautiful necklace with his bare hands and some potions he had mixed up to create the gemstones that were very neatly embedded into the shell of the jewelry. it was beautiful- likely the prettiest thing you’ve set your eyes upon, considering not only was it made from love, it went perfectly with your eyes and hair. valentines day this year was such a success with albedo as your partner.

kazuha knew valentines day. he’d make today extra special for you, taking you to the finest cuisines in whatever area you were at during your travels. he’d occasionally stop, creating a bouquet that he’d plan on giving to you later on at night. when you had received it, there was everything in there- he had collected some qingxin flowers, sweet flowers, a few mint leaves for color, some silk flowers, glaze lillies, and violetgrass. you truly believed it was the most gorgeous bouquet you’ve seen, and it landed a place in a very nice glass vase when you two arrived home that evening.

[sleepynegress]

*sigh* Featurism...

So, I woke up to this shit on the Twit app and I've only hit on this issue before, but today I'm digging in. Colorism is something that is not addressed often enough, but intersected within that and even more rarely spoken about, is the issue of featurism. The young actress above just got cast as Juliet in the latest big staged prestige production of Romeo and Juliet, opposite Tom Holland. And as usual the blue-checks, everybody else including "black", and even Black regulars are all-in on the cruelty.

...But I want to breakdown a nuance that is too often skipped over when this happens. The two people named with her, give away the featurism game, here; a particularly nasty form of often internalized racism. I guarantee if the young actress looked like this?

She'd definitely still get racist attacks, but the particularly nasty shit I'm seeing attacking her looks wouldn't come. In fact, I could see some people thinking they are defending her with "but she's pretty!" or more specific... "obviously she's mixed" comments. -Something pretty much every Black woman with features that don't align with a narrow perception of blackness hear often (and we'll get to why I specified women in a minute). And don't get it twisted...

These aren't exclusively nor standard white features either (see: the many ethnic features w/in white ethnic groups that also get hit to a lesser and non-racialized degree such as large "hook" and/or Romanesque noses for example, which is definitely about anti-semitism, anti-Romani sentiment, and other disparaged/discriminated against ethnic minorities in Europe) and yes, blue eyes are naturally occurring within non-mixed and dark-skinned Black people due to a mutation called Waardenburg syndrome. But there is a REASON why fetishizing even certain ethnic features within the African continental diaspora has been a thing for a long time...i.e. "the dopest Ethiopian" from the Tribe Called Quest lyric is pictured as this:

and this:

and not this:

...despite them all being Ethiopians of various tribal ethnicities.

A wide-nose, a tighter curl, coil, or zig-zag pattern of hair, fuller lips and often, but not always (because I've given examples above where features "mitigate" skin color) darker skin. Zendaya is grouped with Tracey and Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, despite being both lighter in skin color and having a Black parent and a white parent because her nose isn't what has become the standard surgical look...that too many celebs have. This includes the ones who got so-called "ethnic" work or just a slight 'refinement'. No, her nose is born w/it, made for that good African air, as I call it. Nostrils prominent, nose bridge wide:

I went make-up free as well, because even make-up practices these days, go for that narrowing highlight technique i.e. just below it's subtle.

Sza is a an example of it taken to extremes, even with the Hollywood standard "ethnic" refinement she did get.

The thing is... I don't blame or attack her for that. Because you see above that is just a taste of what happens. Lil' Kim was relentlessly bullied by the men in her life for her ethnic features for her whole life...and that is why she is off-limits to this day for me when it comes to all the work she's had done.

...And this is where I explain why I specified men being mostly exempt. It's because "Blackness" including all the physical features associated with it, is by default masculinized. ...Which is why Idris Elba is considered one of the most handsome men in the world, w/o the caveats that even Lupita Nyong'o often gets. Nobody calls Samuel L. Jackson ugly. He is even idolized and fetishized by a specifically white male gaze for how culturally "Black" he is perceived to be for all the wrong reasons, his signature "motherfucka" for example (and I could go off on a whole other tangent here, but digressing). All this to say... Featurism sucks. It's not talked about enough. Blackness in all variations is Beautiful. Tracy Chapman looking as young she does?? Hell, mark it down to both her dark skin (a natural UV protector) and not messing with her given features (and being a lesbian, men will age you. lol -I got jokes-):

P.S. THANK GOODNESS for Tems and her rising prominence as a beauty as well:

P.P.S. Even Jay-Z the billionaire rapper has had the comments over the years about his lips and nose, hence that lyric in Beyonce's Formation.

[torasplanet]

❝𝙈𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏.ᐟ❞

H. SANZU + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; haruchiyo celebrates his sobriety but all he can think about is how you got him here and how badly he wants to put a ring on your finger

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, smut, drug abuse (mentioned), best wing men haitanis, bonten is a silly organization, proposals, hair-pulling, car sex, p in v, riding, porn w plot ig, love dovey shit, kinda vanilla ngl, this sucks, skin color not mentioned.

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; part one!!, for my darling @mdsbabygirl

One.

One year of sobriety. That’s how long Haruchiyo Sanzu has been sober from all drug paraphernalia and they’re also the words that were indented on this little silver chip in his hand. Scarred skin stretches as he smiles looking down at it, how can something be so little yet so important? Claps and words of congratulations and encouragement fill his ears, everyone is proud of him and he’s proud of himself too but all he can think about is you and how proud you probably are of him. Haruchiyo didn’t know it had been a year until he got here but you knew this morning, he didn’t know what you were so smiley about trying to hide it but now he does.

Haruchiyo looks up from the coin and at the group of people standing in front of him smiling. He remembers how much he hated these people when he first got here but pretended like he didn’t make you happy. “So what are you going to do now?” The leader of the group says putting a hand on the pinkette’s shoulder once he stands. He shrugs and his smile gets bigger at his first thought “See my

wife.” A gasp comes from one of the older women there.

“You proposed!?” He makes an awkward laugh as he ruffles his hair. “Not yet…” Haruchiyo had been thinking about the proposal for a long time, but he never really knew what to do. At first, he thought about buying a diamond ring in your favorite color and proposing in the living room but everyone, and I mean everyone, told him that was quite literally one of the worst ways to do it so he didn’t. He didn’t know there were special rules to this but he had to do something that you’d like which is easy but how is he supposed to ask you about the ring if you don't know he’s going to propose? It confused him a lot but it was no problem for him, he had all the money to get whatever ring you wanted in the world. If you wanted him to propose in a new mansion just for you with a 24-karat gold ring, he’d do it but he didn’t know if that was what you wanted. The ring that is, he’s considering the mansion.

Haruchiyo soon found himself in his car driving down the street but not to the apartment you both shared, to bonten hideout. He had a day off, he didn’t need to be there but he needed to talk to the people there. Haruchiyo had never gotten this close to marrying someone so he needed help, Kakucho and Koko were probably the best to ask about this, Kakucho is a sweetheart and a lover boy, and Koko…well he just knows about rings and what girls want. Honestly, Haruchiyo would take any advice with this, he just doesn’t want to fuck this up. You’re the best thing in his life and he doesn’t want this proposal to be wrong. His way of doing it is not enough, the way he thinks you’d like is probably too much. If it were up to him to plan it with you and what you want in mind, he’d already plan the wedding.

“What’s up team, how’s your paperwork?” Haruchiyo said sarcastically, throwing open the doors immediately, getting goose flesh from the temperature here. Everyone looked at him annoyedly, clearly liking it better when he was not here and his annoying sarcastic “It’s your day off, why are you here?” Koko asked combing the ends of his hair out while the Haitanis and Kakucho played cards, everyone else was nowhere to be seen. “Why were you even gone?” Rindou asked briefly looking up from his cards and the pink-haired man grabbed the coin from his pocket and tossed it to Rindou.

The mullet-haired man observed the coin before blinking back up to meet the green eyes, he didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s not real.” Haruchiyo rolled his eyes and scowled “Yeah, no shit but that’s not the point. I’m one year sober.” He said with a sigh, he never thought he would say anything like that.

There was once a time in Haruchiyo’s life when he’d rather die than get sober even for a week and everyone was proud of him even a little bit, of course didn’t show it but still. It was a special moment and he took a day off for it. “What did you come here for again?” Rindou was extremely annoyed at Haruchiyo’s presence as he leaned on the crates everyone sat on. “Well I was thinking of proposing but…I don’t know how she wants me to do it.” The scarred-faced man said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I should be surprised that you’re gonna propose or that you’re not doing it in a garage,” Koko said, still not looking up from his hair. He’s annoyed at the split ends. They weren’t on the best terms right now because Koko was still annoyed about Haruchiyo treating you so badly all of these years. After all, surprisingly, Koko actually likes you. I mean you’re a sweetheart and sometimes bring coffee or food to the hideout when Haruchiyo brings you, what’s not to like? Usually, none of them would care if any guy from here treated a girl badly, not enough to step in or be angry at them but you were different. Everyone liked you to some degree, you weren’t some whore that just let that pinkette slaps you around and treat you like shit; you did stick around after everything he did but you yell at him, you push him away, you leave for days. Most girls haruchiyo have been with let him do whatever the fuck he wants.

Bonten likes that you’re a sweetheart but also doesn’t let anyone run you the fuck over. But mainly they want to see Haruchiyo get yelled at. It’s like a movie for them to see you slapping him and cursing at him.

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at Koko’s comment before turning to look at Kakucho and the brothers, completely ignoring the other man. “Well, I need you guys to ask her about what she wants for a proposal when she comes here next time.” He says as Rindou throws all the cards on the ground for losing against Kakucho and his brother. While Ran is busy being shouted at for cheating by Rindou, Kakucho decides to answer Haruchiyo.

“Sure, I’m glad you’re finally tying the knot.” The black-haired male said, giving him a nod of approval and making the older man smile. “Wait, does that mean no more trailer trash fights at the club? Aw.” Ran asks to be held by his collar by Rindou who still hasn’t let up with the yelling. Haruchiyo sighs and hops down, he gives the eldest haitani the finger before leaving the way he came in. Ran was annoying but Haruchiyo was grateful that he and Kakucho had agreed to help him, he really wanted to make this as special as possible and make it to suit your specific tastes but he really needed this to be a secret. It’s gonna be as special as possible!

You giggle as Haruchiyo pulls you as close as possible to him while drowning you in kisses, you two hadn’t even lasted a second out of the car before he got clingy. It was so weird but for some reason, your boyfriend had been really clingy; he never wanted to let you go and he always wanted to kiss you. He started staying home from work a lot just to be with you. At first, you began to think that he had done something wrong but he denied it and just wanted to always be around you. 

“Come on, stop it! Mikey’s gonna stop me from coming again.” You muttered, pushing him away from you and beginning to walk toward the entrance of the hideout but the green-eyed man couldn’t care less and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “We both know that wasn’t from us hugging.” He whispered into your ear as the two of you walked in, almost everyone was present but only three actually cared about the new people in the room. 

“Yeah, we did a lot more than hug.” You muttered walking toward the Haitanis and Kakucho assuming Haruchiyo would follow but he didn’t “Alright, I gotta go talk to Mikey. I’ll be right back, baby.” You didn’t even get a word out before he kissed your cheek and zoomed off to Mikey’s office. Ugh, he had been acting so strange recently but I guess it’s expected with how many days he had taken off nowadays.

A whistle caught your attention and you turned to see Ran gesturing you over to the table he, his brother, and Kakucho had been just talking. Koko sat not at the table but just a bit near counting money as always. “What’s up?” You asked to sit at the table and Ran, as always, smiled evilly. “Nothing just had a question.” Kakucho interrupts before Ran can say something that is too mean, it’s a habit for him.

“Has the psycho proposed to you yet? I mean it’s been…what? Four years since you two started to date?” Rindou asked with the same stupid smile his brother wears and you freeze. What? You had never even thought of these people asking you about marriage between you and haruchiyo! Normally they yell about how they want the worst for him and how they hate him so fucking much; your boyfriend is not very well-liked around here. It seems more like they’re making fun of you more than actually caring about it.

“Uh no, I mean, we haven’t talked about it or anything…” Koko raises an eyebrow at your words and turns to look at you. “So that idiot doesn’t even have an idea of the setting you want for it? Or your ring? Pfft.” Koko said, nearly folding over and laughing at you. You did not like this at all. It felt like you were being put on the spot.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “No, like I said, we haven’t talked about it. I don’t even think he’d know what ring I’m talking about anyway.” You said folding your arms across your chest and Ran hummed. “What ring is it?” He asked and you paused. There have been dozens of rings you’d come across over the years that you loved but there was one that you just adored.

“Pure diamond, (f/c) and (shape). I don’t care what brand I just want it to look like that.” You said and Koko took note of this. They got the ring out of you now they need the actual proposal setting. “Boring. You don’t want something like a Darry ring or Brilliance?” Koko asked, pretending to yawn knowing he pisses you off when he does shit like this. In his mind, and quite literally everyone else in this room, the angrier they make you, the less likely you are to figure out why they even care about this. 

You shake your head “No, I want that. And I doubt any other girl will get as close to marrying him as me.” That everyone could agree and not necessarily because you were the shit or anything, just because it’s Haruchiyo and no one can stand his bullshit but you. “Well, you can’t have a pretty ring and get proposed in a garage because that’s as classy as you’re getting. The both of you are trailer trash.” Rindou muttered, ignoring that everyone in this room, except Koko, was practically trailer trash when they were younger. You found that ridiculous; if Haruchiyo ever proposed to you, you wouldn’t want it to be in some expensive ass restaurant thousands of feet in the air, something small but sweet.

“I don’t want anything expensive or shit like that. I don’t really care what it is, I just want it to be something that makes it seem like he listens to me y’know? I mean, you probably don’t because none of you have girlfriends.” You said changing your tone halfway remembering who you were talking to. Rindou held a hand up with a raised eyebrow “Woah, I do.” He said and immediately everyone in the room burst into laughter completely forgetting about the talk beforehand. Kakucho hadn’t forgotten though, he was just taking mental notes to tell his pink-haired co-worker about what you had said.

Kakucho is a man of few words but he was already thinking about the words he’d say at the wedding reception. He didn’t show it but he really liked the idea of the two of you getting married. Out of all the years he’s known the Sanzu man, you were the first good thing in his life and he really wanted it to last for Haruchiyo. Kakucho didn’t care much for him but he could admit that his life had been a whole lot worse from before you came into it. Although Haruchiyo had suffered from his addictions throughout the relationship with you, it was the first time he had at least made an effort to get clean, and felt bad when it failed. Kakucho has actually started liking Haruchiyo more nowadays because of your effect. He really liked that and was glad the effect was going to be permanent soon enough.

A few weeks passed and not another word about the proposal was spoken, well to you at least, but Haruchiyo’s clinginess never relaxes until one afternoon. “Babe, I got you something!” He yells bursting into the apartment as you sit in the living room watching foreign shows still in your pajamas (his shirt and panties). You look up at him in your sleepy mess as he rummages through the bag he got before he lifts a dress in the air, it’s not too fancy but not too casual and just your style. “What’s this for?” You question standing and grabbing the dress which just feels expensive under your fingertips.

He grins widely at you and shoves it into your arm “No time to explain sweets. Just get dressed and get as pretty as you want.” Haruchiyo says kissing your cheek before opening the door and leaving out of it as fast as he came in. You stand there confused until the door opens again “Don’t wear heels.” He says again and leaves, once more. This was not strange for your lover, he likes to surprise you but isn’t really good at hiding his excitement but he tries his best by not seeing you much. You would think that you two are going to a club but it’s too early and no heels? An idea of what you two were doing didn’t even pop into your head, he’s random and could do anything right now.

But regardless, you get dressed, do your hair and makeup, and wait for him on the couch and he returns looking just as fancy as you do. Not as fancy, just a casual button-up and slacks, his hair is slicked back with some pomade making you smile, he looks so good. “Aw, you look so good, baby.” You said standing and cupping his cheeks, you kissed his cheeks leaving glossy stains which made him smile childishly. “You look better but we gotta hurry!” Haruchiyo said loudly before dragging you out of the apartment.

You wondered why he’s acting like this, or at least where you two were going because he always acts like this for dates. He’s either in a hurry or can’t let you see his excitement so he’s not around when planning a date especially if it’s a surprise. Of course, a proposal crossed your mind with the Bonten members prodding at you a few weeks ago but it quickly left, you didn’t think Haruchiyo would be planning a proposal at the last minute and he knows his date habits. He most likely would’ve tried to stop doing that and act normal so it couldn’t possibly be that. Where was he taking you this time?

Well you two were not taking a limo, he’s driving the Jeep so you weren’t going anywhere he could get drunk. Haruchiyo was sober from drugs but not alcohol yet, alcohol might’ve been one of the main things that helped him maintain that feeling when he was stressed or at the club. “Where are we going Haru?” You asked as he started the car while he slicked back a stray hair. “A picnic. I remember you saying something about a good spot for a picnic, so I thought that we could do that. Y’know Mikey told me I had a day off and I want to spend it with you.” He said, shrugging his shoulders making you smile at him, he’s such a sweetie. 

The whole ride, you talked his ear off not really noticing how he was on the bridge of shitting himself. He was so nervous, I mean what if you said no because of everything he’s done in the past? He wouldn’t blame you but he’d be hurt, he worked so hard to become better for you and he wanted it to last forever. If you said no, he’d fucking lose his mind.

A gasp left your throat when you saw where you two had parked. “Aw, you remembered!” You shouted, staring at the cherry blossom tree on a hill. You two lived in the city so finding especially this big and beautiful was rare. Of course, he remembered, Haruchiyo remembers almost everything you tell him; he just sometimes doesn’t do much with it. “Yeah, I thought it’d be cute for our picnic. Can you take the blanket? I don’t want stains on your dress.” The male asked, opening his car door and you agreed, grabbing the thin plaid blanket, you left the car. 

Once you climbed the hill, you laid the blanket out evenly and sat on it waiting for your boyfriend to come up the hill and once he did he had a handful. His hands were full of the picnic basket and other things that couldn’t fit in there that you loved. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” You ask as he sets them down before collapsing on the blanket breathing heavily. “You shouldn’t have to carry anything.” He said completely out of breath making you giggle.

The two of you started your picnic and started to eat but Haruchiyo couldn’t get the idea of you in a wedding dress out of his head. The weight of that perfect ring for you in his pocket was burdening and he wouldn’t be surprised if it fell out because it burned a hole through his slacks. He was trying so hard to not make it obvious that he was proposing but he felt like he had already failed at that. Before he could even sigh, something hit him hard in the forehead. 

“What the fuck!” He said holding his head that probably had a bruise on it, he looked to see what it was and it was an apple. An apple that fell from a fucking cherry blossom tree, yeah right. You stood up and looked at the tree for any sign of an apple or a stem. “Where did that come from?” As you talked, Haruchiyo spotted Ran hiding behind a car with his phone gesturing for him to do it. For him to propose. Fuck. Here goes.

Haruchiyo maneuvered himself on one knee and pulled the ring case out of his pocket with a deep breath and a clear of his throat, you looked at him and your eyes widened. The wind blew and cherry blossom leaves fell from above the two of you “[Y/n] [L/n].” His voice was incredibly shaky as he saw tears burn in your eyes. 

“We’ve been together for what feels like forever and during that time, you’ve made me a better person than I ever thought I could be. I want that to last, I want us to last.” His entire body was shaking about now, the sun was shining in his eyes and the only thing he could see was you standing there with your hands covering your mouth and the sun shining on you so beautifully. He loved this sight. “Will you marry me?” Haruchiyo was barely able to let out a breath before you jumped on him with a squeal. The two of you rolled down the hill as you snuggled yourself closer to him while attacking his lips with many kisses.

“Yes! Of course, I will.” You said loudly once you two came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Haruchiyo smiled and looked at his hand that he had closed in a death grip. He took the ring from its cage grabbed your hand with the gentleness of an angel and slipped it onto your ring finger. Where it belonged.

“Fucking finally, we’ve been waiting here for thirty damn minutes,” Koko said coming out of nowhere and making you jump. Soon half of bonten came from their hiding spots, confusing you completely. “He means congratulations,” Kakucho says smiling at you, he bows his head slightly in respect but nobody else does. Rindou and Ran smiled. “Yeah, we can’t wait to plan the wedding,” Rindou muttered.

Koko frowned “Excuse me? That’s my job.” You sat up straddling Haruchiyo who was staring completely at where the two of your bodies met intensely. He needed this to speed up “Uh you haven’t even said congrats yet?” He rolls his eyes and sighs. 

“Mazel Tov.” 

“He’s not even fucking Jewish.”

“Well, I just converted so suck my dick.”

Haruchiyo sighed as he sat up holding onto your hips so you wouldn’t fall “Thank you but we have a reservation to make so fucking leave.” He said standing up with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist as you giggled girlishly. “What about your mess?” Rindou asked meanly and before Haruchiyo could demand anything, you spoke. “Please clean it for us, I can’t wait any longer to talk with Haru.” You said in the sweetest voice you could manage as Haruchiyo carried you to the car. Rindou glared at you but he sighed giving you a yes, he could say no to every single person but when it came to a girl that wasn’t a spiteful bitch or a greedy drug addict, he couldn’t even form an N.

You thanked him and the rest of them as Haruchiyo put you in the car and waved to them all as if you had already gotten married. The sun started to set on the drive to the restaurant and all you did was stare at the ring on your hand, it was beautiful and you felt like you were going to cry again “Oh baby don’t cry.” Haruchiyo said, looking away from the road and you wiped your eyes while sniffling. “I’m just so happy. I knew you were acting weird.” You said laughing and pointing at your now fiance who couldn’t help but cheese at your words. You were so happy, you just couldn’t contain it.

“I know, I wanted to make it special without making it too obvious but I guess it was anyway,” Haruchiyo said, rolling his eyes and you swooned before leaning over and giving him a wet kiss. The man had to force you away so he could focus on not crashing but now he had a tent in his pants to deal with and there’s an entire dinner ahead of him. “It’s already special!” You shouted all giggly with a smile. Your lipgloss was stained on Haruchiyo’s lips and all over it and it made him go wild when he saw it in the rearview mirror.

Shit, he shouldn’t have taken you to your favorite restaurant; he wasn’t going to last more than fifteen minutes here.

Thirty minutes into the dinner, Haruchiyo was absolutely devouring his food in hopes that the taste would distract him from how badly he wanted you. “I should’ve known you were going to do this.” Laughter followed your words as you smiled at the pink-haired man adoring him, you had barely touched your food but you weren’t exactly hungry for that. “Because of the Haitanis asking about the ring?” He asked looking up at you through his long eyelashes making you nearly explode out of adoration.

“Yeah but also, your one year was recently. You were really happy to bring me home that chip, all you did was thank me.” You said, reaching forward and pressing back the stray hairs of Haruchiyo’s. “Can you blame me? You’re the entire reason I made it this far, that chip made me realize how badly I wanted to marry you.” He muttered, grabbing hold of your hand and staring at the ring. It was pretty pricey but nothing is too expensive for Haruchiyo especially when it comes to you.

“I know I fucked up a lot of times but you made me want to be better to you and for you. I can’t imagine being better without you.” He was so sweet. You didn’t know if you were gonna cry because of his words or because of how badly you wanted to jump on him and kiss him.

Haruchiyo blinked back at you as you did with him, he was barely able to blink again before you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him above the table. It was rough, messy, and full of love but it wasn’t enough for you so when you detached you still held him in place breathing heavily. “Let’s go to the bathroom.” You muttered to him and Haruchiyo looked at you with wide eyes and said something he never thought he’d say. 

“Not today. I want it to be special for you, I have everything waiting at home…even though Kakucho set it up.” The last part was a whisper as Haruchiyo and you both sat down in your seats once more. It was weird, usually, Haruchiyo is the desperate one who always wants to have a quickie in the bathroom but now it’s you. “Then let’s leave now, I can’t wait. I just love you too much Haru.” It sounded like you were going to cry if you didn’t leave right now. 

You weren’t going to last a second once you two got in that car, Haruchiyo knew it. Those candles and petals trailing to the bed were going to have to wait for round two. Hey, at least you’re not focusing on why all the servers look fucking terrified of him and why the owner isn’t here like usual.

The car moved non-stop as you bounced up and down pathetically on Haruchiyo’s cock as he sat in the reclined driver’s seat groaning with his head thrown back. “Haru! Fuck!” Your grip on his hair tightened making him wince slightly and then a grin stretched across his lipgloss-covered lips. His fingers dug into the side of your thighs which will definitely leave bruises for him to apologize about later.

It was hot and sweaty which is one of the main reasons why Haruchiyo hates car sex. The AC hasn’t been working lately but it was your night so whatever you wanted, of course, he was going to give it to you. “You look so damn pretty. Ngh.” You pulled at his long pink locks harder while groaning. “Fuck you for making this about me.” You moaned through your hasty breaths as you bounced up and down on his lengthy cock. You were making so many shameless noises from both lips, it was whorish really how anyone could walk by and hear you slutting yourself out on your boyfriend–fiance’s dick.

Haruchiyo blinked at you as your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead while you moaned loudly riding him like there was no tomorrow, you confused him. “Baby–fuck…you’re my wife now, of course, it’s about you.” A slap was delivered to his soft cheek making it red in no time. It was hard for you to express yourself as he split your cunt open “No…I’m really proud of you. You did it.” There were very few words that you could barely form with all the saliva in your mouth and how you were moaning but it was clear what you meant. Haruchiyo had finally gotten better, and it was working you up.

Tears started to form in your eyes both from the pleasure and how proud you were of Haruchiyo. “You helped me do it, you’re my light. I fucking love you.” Haruchiyo says bringing his hand to the scruff of your neck and bringing you down to kiss you sloppily as you brought yourself and the man closer to your climaxes with his tip hitting that one gushy spot. You practically screamed into his mouth as he came inside you with a squeeze of the back of your neck.

Your legs shook on top of his bare ones as your climax quickly followed him like a rush whilst the two of you made out hungrily. As you slowed down, the squelches of every juice you had made echoed throughout the car along with the hard breathing from the two of you. 

Haruchiyo grabbed your hair and pulled you away from him with an evil smile on his face “Think you’re hot shit for slapping me around like that?” He asked and when you didn’t respond, he pulled harder. Whines left your wet lips as your back arched “No..” Haruchiyo’s grin grew wider at your answer. His lips grew close to your ear to whisper as if he needed to do that.

“Aw really? I wish you enjoyed yourself because I’m gonna be a lot fucking meaner when we get home.” He promised you would make a chill run up your spine but you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of your love slapping you around on a bed surrounded by candles and roses, he noticed that.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[thinkinonsense]

Magnetic ──★ Logan Howlett x fem!oc: Chapter Three

╰┈➤Summary: After years of torture, Daphne decides how she wants to spend the rest of her life; at the bottom of a lake. Out of nowhere, Logan pulls Daphne from the water and finds her help. Now they must navigate how to live with their decisions.

╰┈➤C/W: mentions of death, suicide, cursing, age gap, mild violence, issues with infertility, slight sexual themes, description of a starved body

ᯓ★ mdni.ᐟ

ᯓ★word count: 1.9k+

ᯓ★ spotify playlist here

ᯓ★ last chapter here

ᯓ★next chapter here

✮⋆˙ In the early morning hours Logan found Charles heading to the subbasement to use Cerebro. He didn't even pretend to not be following the man in the wheelchair. When the doors finally close, Charles acknowledges him.

"Are you sure you want to be in here?" Charles asks. Logan ignores his question entirely.

"What are you doin'?"

"You'll see."

As Charles places the helmet on his head, Logan wonders if he wants to be in here too. Soon enough, images begin to flood the space around them. There is a glass cage with someone inside of it. A woman in a lab coat approaches the glass, squatting down, and tapping carefully.

"Mister Bellinor wants to see you." The woman says.

The person in the cage comes into view; it's Daphne.

There are lavender circles around her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair is long and unkept, almost hitting her lower back. She looks so tiny; underfed with her bones visible through the skin. Her face barely had any color to it. It made Logan feel sick to his stomach.

Daphne's shackled at her hands and ankles as she and the woman walk down a long hallway. A guard at the door gives Daphne a look of sympathy as he opens the door for them. The two women enter and see a swarm of men talking and drinking among themselves.

"There she is, gentlemen!" A dark-haired man smiles when his eyes land on Daphne. He must be Mister Bellinor, Logan thought.

She stares blankly at him as he wraps one arm around her waist while his other hand grips her chin; squeezing her cheeks into a pout. "That's my pretty weapon."

The men around them nod their heads, gawking at her despite how sickly she looked. Bellinor wraps an arm around Daphne, forcing her to sit in his lap. A few minutes of chatter continues before one of the men says a pretty girl like her couldn't be that scary. Bellinor laughs and then pats her behind so she stands up.

"Oh, you'll regret that one, buddy," Bellinor says, leaning back in his chair, cockily. "Go on, Siren. Give 'em hell."

Daphne's eyes glow darker than Logan had seen before. They looked blood red as she settled her gaze on the target. Within seconds, the man clutches his chest, yelling out in pain.

"She's a w-w-witch!" He struggles to get out as he falls to his knees in front of her. "M-Make her... s-stop!"

Bellinor laughs and lets it continue for another few seconds to get the point across. Everyone else in the room was dead silent, terrified. Eventually, Bellinor tells Daphne to stop; but she doesn't. She isn't moving; it's like she's in a trance.

"Stop it, Daphne!" Bellinor yells repeatedly, getting up to stop her; but it's too late.

Without warning, the other man's heart breaks out of his chest, flying into Daphne's open palm. It snaps her back into reality. She looks down at the bloody organ in her hand and then at the dead man hunched over on the ground with his eyes rolled back into his head. Her hands begin to shake in terror of her own actions; dropping the heart quickly, letting it splat on the ground at her feet.

"Take her back to her cell!" Bellinor yells at the guards. "Use the electroshock!"

"I'm s-sorry!" She cries. "Please! Don't!"

Her loud sobs echo in Logan's head, making him want to turn away. Tears roll down Daphne's cheeks while her bloody hands attempt to put up a fight with the two men who roughly pulled her back into the cell.

The woman returns and hooks Daphne into a chair; shocking her until she's slumped over unconscious. One of the guards pulls her out of the chair and lays her body down on the concrete floor. Alone.

The image fades out, leaving Charles and Logan in silence.

"Why didn't she kill Bellinor?" Logan immediately asks while Charles removes the helmet.

"She didn't know was able to kill a person," Charles says, wheeling around to look at Logan. "Let alone two."

Logan's thoughts ran wild with all this new information. Charles felt his headache while trying to catch up with Logan's thoughts.

Who was Bellinor?

How was he connected to Daphne?

Where was he currently?

Because right now, Logan wanted nothing more than to watch the life leave his eyes as one of his claws stabbed through his throat.

"Don't bother, Logan," Charles comments, rolling past him. "Not even I can find him. He's somewhere hiding from her now that she's free."

"Just not looking hard enough." Logan snarls.

Charles can see what Logan is plotting in his mind.

"Logan, trying to find him won't make her feel better."

"Maybe not... but it sure as hell will make me feel better."

──★

11:00 am

Long showers were a luxury to Daphne. Private showers were even more so. She knew she had to take advantage of it while she was here. Her forehead rested on the wall under the shower head; allowing the warm water to run down her back.

Daphne didn't mind being left alone. Actually, she preferred it. Not because she didn't enjoy having company but because not all company was good to be around.

It was almost noon when she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a gray towel around herself. Jean gave her a pair of faded blue jeans and a forest green long-sleeve shirt. Daphne figured today was the best day to get her belongings from the cabin.

"Where are you headed, dear?" Charles asks.

Daphne spins around and spots the man following her to the main doors.

"I was going to go collect my belongings from my cabin." She said.

"Hm..." He hummed, thinking for a second. "I'm sure Storm wouldn't mind joining you. It's a dangerous time to be alone as a mutant."

On queue, Storm walks by them. She smiled, hearing the professor's invitation.

"I would love to join you," Storm said, grabbing her jacket off the hook.

Daphne wasn't upset with the sudden intrusion on her plans. She knew they wouldn't let her return to the area alone. Honestly, she's not sure she would even trust herself there alone.

The two women take one of the cars into the woods. Storm offers to drive while Daphne gives her directions. The ride was forty-five minutes out, it gave Storm plenty of time to get to know Daphne.

"When did you move out here?" Storm asks, attempting to make small talk.

"Couple months ago," Daphne answers. "A woman in town sold it to me shortly after I escaped."

"Jean mentioned the laboratory..." Storm's words drifted off while trying to figure out how to approach the subject. "You were so young."

"I didn't mean the lab," Daphne says. "But yes, they raised me there until seventeen."

"Where did you go after that?"

"Another cell, different captore."

Daphne's never told anyone what she has been through; mostly because she didn't know many people.

"Do you know who they were?" Storm asks.

"His name was Mister Bellinor," The words tasted like metal in her mouth. "He broke me out of the lab and trained me. Taught me how to be a monster."

Before Storm could say something back to Daphne, they had arrived. It was small; one bedroom, a bath, and a connected kitchen and living room. Storm didn't see much for Daphne to pack. There wasn't much of anything. She had four shirts and two pairs of jeans. Storm didn't know why she needed to come back for it. That was before she felt a black cat rub itself against her ankles.

"Who is this cutie?" Storm asks, bending down to pet it.

"That's Juna," Daphne calls from the bedroom. "She's a stray. I hope there isn't a no-pets policy in the mansion."

Storm picks up the cat and walks into the bedroom. Daphne was using her powers to bring her toiletries into the room too.

"I don't think Charles has ever turned away a stray." Storm smiles.

──★

Jean and Scott were sitting in the kitchen when Logan entered the room. He spots Jean immediately and goes over to her.

"Hey, I need a favor," Logan says to her.

Jean's eyes widen slightly at his request. Scott inches closer to her and interrupts them.

"With what?"

Logan turns to him, glaring, "I wasn't asking for your help."

Jean steps in to say, "Of course, Logan. What do you need?"

"I need help tracking someone down."

Scott scoffs dramatically. "Can't you ask someone else? Preferably the woman you just fished out of the lake a few days ago?"

Logan's claws extended, breaking the skin of his knuckles at the way Scott refers to Daphne.

"Logan!" Jean scolds when she sees the adamantium claws. "How about we talk outside?"

Logan nods but Scott beats them both to the door.

"No, allow me!" He says before turning away.

Jean pinches the bridge of her nose at their immaturity. Logan's claws retract back into his body as he apologizes under his breath.

"Who are you trying to find?"

"Not quite sure. All I know is that his last name is Bellinor and that he held Daphne captive. Charles won't tell me anything more."

Jean thinks for a moment then looks up at Logan.

"What exactly do you want me to do...?"

"Besides Charles, you are the only person that can use Cerebro-"

"This doesn't sound like a good idea, Logan," Jean says, shaking her head. "Her past is her past."

"I know," He huffs. "But you didn't see her past. I did, and God, it was... it was fucking brutal."

Logan allows Jean to invade his mind, to let her see what he saw. He watches Jean's face contort uncomfortably at the visions. When she sees the heart fly into Daphne's hand, Jean flinches away from Logan; trying to escape his thoughts. He gives her a moment before softly reaching for her wrists.

"Please, Jean..." Logan says in a tone that she's never heard from him. He must really care, Jean thinks to herself.

"I'll do it."

──★

"I hope it's okay, that I brought Juna back with me," Daphne says to Charles, assuming that's the reason why he called her into his office.

He chuckles at the image of her and the black cat clinging to her, "I don't mind, Daphne."

"Oh okay," She squints at him, confused. "Can I ask why you called me in here exactly?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

"And that would be?"

"Would you join the X-Men?"

The question catches her off guard; making her hesitant to answer him.

"I believe you have the power to be a vital part of the team," Charles says, warming her up to the idea.

"I-I um, I don't think you need someone like me."

"Someone like...?"

"A monster," Daphne explains, eyes leveled with the floor. "I don't want to be the monster that they made me."

"Daphne," Charles says rather slowly so she fully grasps what he means. "You're only what you believe you are; not what they told you to be."

Those words strike her like a bullet ricocheting through her chest. Life wasn't getting easier for mutants. Perhaps this was what she was meant to do with her gifts; but did she deserve a second chance? What if her curse spreads? What if she can't control herself? Did they really want her of all people? Could she afford to start over again? Only time could tell.

"It would be an honor."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

tags: @bethexo07 @borapsycho @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @aylawylie @marcybug

if you want to be tagged for future chapters of Magnetic, reply and let me know <3

[nxuvillette]

“BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE!”

SPENDING CHRISTMAS W/ TR MEN

synopsis: spending the holidays with your boyfriend is like a dream come true.

❥- including : baji keisuke, kazutora hanemiya, chifuyu matsuno

❥- note : decided to write something sweet for christmas coming up !! also new theme.. so new post colors :> ! i hope you guys enjoy, reblogs are appreciated <;3.

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, fluff, christmas activities, mentions of food (baji + chifuyu), use of pet names (babe , baby , princess), tooth rotting fluff.

♡ BAJI KEISUKE

you were honestly super excited that baji suggested building gingerbread houses together for christmas. you had seen many couples partake in the activity and now that you were in a relationship, you wanted to try it out.

baji came over with all of the supplies you needed. he even suggested that you two make little gingerbread men to live in your little houses together. he honestly thought it was super fun decorating their faces with different gumdrops and drawing on their smiles with delicious frosting. it was fun. both of you were having such a fun time doing it that you made multiple gingerbread men and you had even made them girlfriends to have. baji thought it was a cute addition.

it was all fun and games until you and baji got to the house making part.

neither of you expected it to be so complicated and so.. messy. there was frosting all over your fingers and the parts of the houses kept collapsing or caving in whenever you moved your fingers away. there were a few times that he thought it would stick together, but in the end, he was met with the same fate of the pieces falling apart and onto the placemat on the table.

although it wasn’t you thought it would be, you two were still having fun. you would both laugh whenever a piece of the houses would rip over or when the pieces of candy wouldn’t stick long enough. it was hilarious to both of you, so that’s why you continued trying to perfect the houses. baji kept making the same comment that the gingerbread men can’t be homeless and even if the house was falling apart they needed a roof over their heads. you had to agree with him on that.

after almost two hours of working, you both got your houses into decent condition. it was messy and didn’t look anything like the picture on the box, but you still had so much fun regardless. you two were honestly proud that you didn’t give up halfway through and throw them away. 

“well, we did our best!” baji exclaimed, popping one of the many gumdrops into his mouth.

you couldn’t help but laugh at how they looked, but what he said was true. “i agree!” you then came over beside him to take a photo of the houses.

baji snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. he dragged his thumb along the corner of your lip to wipe off the excess frosting. “had a little somethin’ there..” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss onto you. 

you couldn’t hide your grin, brushing your fingers through his hair. he honestly loved when you did that. your fingers always felt so nice threaded through his locks, brushing against his scalp. he could fall asleep like that if he wanted to. “i love you..” you whispered, looking into his chocolate brown eyes. 

he squeezed your body against him, bringing you closer. “i love you more, baby, don’t you forget that.” he intertwined his fingers with yours, spreading his warmth onto your hand.

♡ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

it was actually your idea to go out and see christmas lights with kazutora. there was a festival that was planning a lighting ceremony and you decided to go with him. both of you were really excited, considering it was your first christmas together as a couple.

you bundled up in your winter clothes. it was going to be a chilly night, but neither of you minded the cold if it meant you got to be together when you saw the lights. it wasn’t a far drive at all and there were a lot of people who were waiting to see the christmas tree shine. the sheer winter wind nipped at your exposed skin, which brought you closer to your boyfriend. kazutora had a tight hold on your body, making sure that you weren’t shivering. he’d hate to see you feeling any kind of cold.

soon enough, the tree was lit. multicolored lights were laced around the trees branches, making them twinkle in your eyes. kazutora couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you gleaming like a small child at the pretty tree. you looked so cute. he just couldn’t help but admire you in the glow of the lights.

you then walked along the sidewalks, pointing at the different trees and bushes that had lights strung along their leaves. you and kazutora had even taken a few photos along the way. he loved nothing more than to spend time with you, even if that meant his toes were numb. you never failed to make him happy and that’s why spending holidays with you felt so special. you made them just a little more exciting than it usually would be. 

kazutora held your hand as you both viewed the different houses in the neighborhood. some people had decorated their houses beautifully. “baby, look! that snowman is adorable!” you pointed at the glowing decor with a smile on your face. 

he chuckled when his eyes focused on it. he had an image flow into his head. it was of you and him together in the future when you had your own house together. you’d be decorating the front yard with too many lights to count and you would have the brightest house on the block. he could never say no to you. 

“looks cute, princess, just like you.” he kissed your cheek, making your face turn warm from the sudden contact.

you shivered at the sudden gust of wind that danced through the air. the temperature had dropped even lower than it had originally started at during the beginning of the evening. “i don’t mean to c-cut it short but can we go home? i-i’m freezing!” you looked at your boyfriend apologetically.

kazutora draped his arm around your shoulder, pecking your lips in the process. “of course, babe. maybe we can make some hot chocolate when we get home, yeah?” he nodded, to which you agreed eagerly.

♡ CHIFUYU MATSUNO

you were excited that evening to spend time with your boyfriend for a little christmas date. he had been talking about it for weeks. chifuyu planned every little thing and he was so ecstatic to have you come over and be with him. he had even gotten you both matching pajamas to snuggle up in.

when you arrived, you were hit with the aroma of food and you saw what your boyfriend had done for you.

chifuyu had bought an abundance of snacks and drinks for you two. he had quite literally gone all out for you and it made you so happy. there hadn’t been a single man in your life that would do something like that for you. it honestly made you fall for chifuyu even harder than you already had before. he had this smile on his face and he looked so handsome in his pajamas.. even if there was a snowman on the shirt.

the two of you cuddled up on the couch with many blankets and watched classic christmas movies together. the food he brought was honestly great too. pizza, cookies, candy canes, he had even made hot chocolate with those extra large marshmallows that could hardly fit in the mug. it was absolutely perfect.

with the food and how late it was, you found yourself becoming sleepy. you had quite the busy day and relaxing with chifuyu was only making you want to drift off and sleep for as long as you could. he could sense by your hums and droopy eyes that you were indeed exhausted, so he decided to take you upstairs to his room so you could both retire for the evening in there. 

“tired, huh?” chifuyu asked, lying down beside you in bed.

you had your eyes closed, but you nodded in response. “yeah.. i was so busy today..” you scooched closer to your boyfriend to feel his arms wrap around your body. 

he pecked the top of your head, tucking you underneath his chin so you were resting against his chest. he smiled to himself at your sleepy form. you were so cute. there were so many reasons for him to love you, and this was just one of them. “goodnight, baby.. i love you.” he rested his chin atop the crown of your head.

a light snore came from your lips, making him laugh through his nose. he couldn’t imagine spending christmas with anyone else but you by his side.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with III

NSFW elements, fluffy ideas that have been ruminating in my head the past couple weeks… to the point I abandoned my main blog to create a side blog for my fav masked men

Easily having scary dog privileges w iii as your man w the slasher-esque aesthetic about him

But we all know that’s not the case

III the bf you lets you play with his rings on his hands when your anxious

Playing with his hair all. the. time! I’m talking twirling the ends, head scratchies, all of it! He hated how much it had an affect on him

He could be going on a tangent laying his head in your lap on the couch after a long day, and he’d instantly shut up melting into your touch once you started playing with his hair!

III the bf who’s love languages involved gift giving, and physical touch

would most likely buy you the most cheesiest, corniest, tourist of tourist souvenirs from each city he went to just to show you how much he thinks of you and misses you. Even if your apartment is overflowing with his little treasures and you had to invest in an a P.O. Box

Receiving ‘Daddy’s Little Meatball’ and ‘I love ___’ shirts all the time, snowglobes, and hats (you definitely got a cheesehead hat when they played in Wisconsin and a cowboy hat with feathers and a tiara when they were in Texas)

Sending you postcards with the most embarrassing, filthiest things written on them like the post men wouldn’t see it

Including but not limited to

‘Hi love, here Down Under thinking when I can I be down under you :( ”

“Visited one of the 7 wonders of the world today, you should be the 8th ;)”

“Can’t wait to show you my Big Ben again <3”

The most fashionable one of the members, every show you attend, he would try to coordinate your two outfits.

Including hairstyles… matching space buns or french braids?!? Are you kidding me?? Or even matching hair colors once in a while??

Speaking of hair, you would have to help him dye his hair, or shave his undercut late at night in the bathroom. Vice versa if you wanted the same color. Indulging on your favorite beverage or a little joint, giggling every time you would get a speck of dark/bright dye on each other. Or jokingly act like you buzzed too much hair to rile him up

He also solely has a folder on his phone dedicated to pictures (including a lot of candid off guards of just you two in your own little world backstage) taken by Adam and crew members of the two of you matching/coordinating

His phone background is of you sitting criss cross on a large equipment case looking down at him leaning against it trying to tune his bass, but his head is leaned back gazing up at you through his mask instead… both with space buns in your hair

Since your relationship couldn’t be public and be blaring obvious to most people you knew, III would get you two permanent bracelets. Yours would have a tiny ‘iii’ on it and his would have a tiny initial of your first name.

Even though he would have to profusely clean it after shows from the red body paint. It was something he was willing to do to carry this cheeky secret.

And somewhere in his favorites folder of his phone he has a picture of your tinier hand trying to wrap around his cock with the dainty chain hung displaying ‘iii’ clearly around your wrist

And ofc a pic of you two facing a mirror with his hand wrapped around your neck displaying your initial proudly on his

Which leads me into

He definitely has a size kink in all different types of aspects

Him loving the fact he was so significantly taller than you (lets face it he’s a a long fuckin string bean), and letting it be known

It always (not so) subtly came out

In his pet names for you: doll, bunny, kitten–anything small and cutesy really…even if they became so unserious or cringe

When he would just casually walk by you, and ruffling your hair calling you ‘squirt’, making you roll your eyes and scoff. (The other band members may have started to do this as well bc of III)

His adrenaline still rushing after a show, great rehearsal, or recording session barreling over to you to give you a bear hug, lifting you off the floor swinging you around profusely

you would be doing something or talking to someone, he’d catch you off guard by coming up behind you resting his chin on the top of your head, giving your shoulders a light squeeze or massage

Watching you struggle for something on a higher shelf, and waiting until you would almost give up in defeat to come up behind you making sure to press his body against the back of you as he did so to leave you flustered

Despite him being a giant, and perfect big spoon material–he wants to be lil spoon most times.

Loving your arms around his waist, feeling the soft heave of your chest pressed against his back as you slept, providing the comfort and peace he needed after a day in his busy life

He’d be in a drunken/high haze and when it would be just the two of you, he would compare his hand to yours always, smiling lazily over at you adoringly

Admire how his hand practically encapsulated the expanse of your throat when you were up against a wall or underneath him.

A small growl leaving his lips, when he tried to fit inside you loving how you squeeze him

“Fuck doll, are you gonna be able to take all of me?” He hisses, pushing your legs further apart

Or watching how’d you have to use two hands and barely fitting him into your palms when you gave him a hand job

“Baby you’re squeezing me so good.” He tries his best to not let his eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you struggle to jerk him

In conclusion, I need this man biblically.. and I got carried away and could have kept going if you guys want me to keep going I can 🤭🥹 I do plan on doing one for the others too. Reblogs, likes, and replies are always appreciated and fuels my validation

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & TAKING YOU OUT ON MIDNIGHT DRIVES .

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. RED LIGHTS STOP SIGNS | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

midnight drives, with xiao, were filled with him picking you up (opening your door!) and driving for a quick mcdonalds run at 2 in the morning. the air is quiet, the only sounds the low hums of the cicadas living within the tall blades of grass in the parking lot. the stars of the sky sprawl above you, watching over the two of you as xiao slips his hand in yours.

zhongli

midnight drives, with zhongli, are actually a rare occurrence. an unspoken agreement about how the passage of time requires your full night's rest always gets in the way of anything spontaneous, so treasure these chaos-filled nights – they come far and few. zhongli drives you to the foot of the mountain where the both of you met, and you spend more time in each other's presence.

diluc

midnight drives, with diluc, transport you back to a time where the both of you were young – when diluc was still living under crepus' roof. the two of you sneak out the window, leaving a messily-created mound of pillows that were supposed to recreate diluc's frame in his wake. the two of you speed off with the manor slowly growing smaller, laughing with your youth in full force.

kaeya

midnight drives, with kaeya, used to happen a lot more with the thrill that came with being young. after some time... truthfully, the novelty of it wears off, and you prefer to spend quiet nights with each other instead. it doesn't stop the spontaneous drives to the convenience store from happening altogether, though – the both of you laugh as the wind whips through your hair.

childe

midnight drives, with childe, is filled with the same kind of childish joy that you used to feel when your mom took you out for a late night ice cream or when your dad snuck you out to the convenience store. driving with childe on the highways, at 2:30 in the morning, elicits a giddy happiness for the both of you, which you try to replicate every week. driving dates are a common occurrence, after all. childe slips his hand in yours as you cover the backseat with pillows and blankets.

neuvillette

midnight drives, with neuvillette, are only an occurrence once you have reached the stage of the relationship where he's ready to delve into a different side of himself. you bring out that spontaneous, non-measured side of him – he refuses to believe it, but you're special. midnight drives are spent with the both of you cruising down the highway, with you singing loudly to whatever is on the radio, and with neuvillette's eyes half on you, and half on the road.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!