#never noticed I like characters with the letter 'p' in their name

[shokocide]

HEY, EMO BOY! - CHOSO KAMO

summary. Choso doesn’t do distractions. But then you walk into his show and ruin his focus with one look. And now, he’s handing you his guitar, his heart, maybe more. And baby, you haven’t even seen what those fingers can really do.

word count. 10.5k (i got a lil carried away)

content. mdni fem! reader, bassist! choso, mutual pining, heavy tension, choso is a tease (and so down bad), really lovey-dovey shi like bro's not even emo, pet names, smut, fingering, oral (fem rec.), p in v, mating press, praise, creampie, slight overstim, aftercare

author's note. saw this fanart and started ovulating on demand.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Shoko says, tugging on your sleeve with the persistence of a woman who knows you have no other plans. "You like music. You like hot guys. This is both."

You squint at her, unconvinced. "You said that last time and we ended up at some dude’s garage while he rapped about capitalism."

She grins. “And it was unforgettable.”

“You spilled beer on my shoes.”

“And I’ve had character development after that.”

You roll your eyes, but she already knows she's won. She’s practically vibrating with excitement as she drags you through the dimly lit alley that opens into an even dimmer basement venue—graffiti-tagged walls, sticker-covered speakers, the scent of cigarettes and something vaguely fruity in the air.

The lights are low, the crowd humming with quiet energy, and the stage is set but empty—just a drum kit, a couple mics, and a bass propped against its amp like it’s waiting for someone.

“You’re gonna love them,” Shoko whispers, already pulling out her phone to snap photos. “The music’s sick. And the bassist—”

You blink at her.

“The bassist,” she repeats, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “Tall, broody, pretty eyes. Never says a damn word on stage but plays like he’s in pain.”

You scoff. “You’ve got issues.”

“Just wait,” she says. “You’re not ready.”

And you’re not.

Because when the band finally comes on stage and the lights cut through the haze, your eyes lock onto him—tall, dark, dressed in all black with his bass slung low, rings glinting on his fingers, and a half-lidded stare like he’s seeing ghosts.

And when he starts playing? Oh. Yeah. You’re done for.

The lights dim, bathing the room in moody blue and red hues. The crowd hushes—just for a moment—then the first chord explodes through the speakers. It’s loud, raw, electric, vibrating through the floor and straight up your spine.

You don’t flinch.

You should. The guy next to you does. Shoko’s already swaying to the beat like she’s been here a thousand times. But you? You’re frozen—entranced.

Not by the music. Not really.

By him.

The bassist, standing off to the left like he doesn’t crave the spotlight, like he’s content letting the others take the lead. But he’s the one you see. The one who owns the stage.

He’s tall and he’s wearing a loose black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top few buttons left undone to tease just enough of his pale, sculpted chest. The stage lights catch on the gleam of sweat on his collarbones, highlighting every sharp angle and subtle flex of muscle as he moves with the rhythm. His fingers dance over the bass strings with practiced ease, and that’s when you notice it—apart from the black nail polish, each one is tattooed with a letter: C-H-O-S-O.

His long, dark hair is loose, falling in waves to the base of his neck, the ends brushing over his collar. The soft purple eyeshadow dusting his eyelids makes his deep-set eyes pop, casting shadows that only add to his sharp features. A bold tattoo cuts across the bridge of his nose, stark against his pale skin.

His brows are furrowed, mouth set in a hard, concentrated line, and his fingers—god, his fingers—they dance over the strings like he was born with a bass in his hands. There’s something hypnotic about the way he plays. Focused. Intense. Like the world doesn’t exist outside of this moment.

You don’t even realize you’re staring until Shoko elbows you lightly. “Told you,” she shouts in your ear, grinning like the smug little shit she is.

You nod, but your eyes don’t move. You can’t look away. It’s like you’ve been put under some kind of spell.

And then—then—mid-song, his head lifts just slightly. His gaze cuts through the haze and crowd and colored lights, and lands right on you. You swear it. A spark of something sharp and electric zips down your spine.

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t nod. Just holds your gaze for a breath longer than necessary before he looks away, like he felt it too.

Like he knew.

Like the music wasn’t the only thing pulling strings tonight.

The band keeps playing, song after song bleeding into one another, but you barely register any of it.

Your eyes keep straying to him. Choso—at least, you think that’s his name, judging by the ink on his fingers. Fitting, really. It lingers in your head like a low bassline: heavy, addictive.

At one point, you swear he looks at you again.

Really looks.

And even if it’s just for a second, it feels like a live wire pressed to your skin.

You down the rest of your drink to keep yourself from combusting.

Shoko leans in and shouts something in your ear over the music—probably the band’s name or some fun fact about the drummer—but your eyes are locked on him. You nod absently, your smile weak, dazed, because how the hell are you supposed to listen to anyone else when he’s up there, commanding your every thought?

By the time the band wraps up their final song, you’re already craning your neck for a better look. You don't even realize you're moving toward the stage until Shoko’s hand snags your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

You blink, startled like you’ve been caught red-handed. "I—I don’t know."

But you do.

You’re hoping to get closer. Maybe he’ll notice you again.

Maybe he already has.

-

You find yourself outside the venue before you even realize what you’re doing—leaning against the brick wall, half hidden in the shadows, heart hammering like you’d just finished a set yourself. The crisp night air cools your skin, but it does nothing to quiet the heat bubbling beneath it.

You tell yourself you just needed some air.

That’s all.

Totally not waiting around like some groupie for a guy you don’t even know.

The door creaks open behind you, and a familiar pair of boots crunches against gravel. Shoko squints at you suspiciously.

“You good?” she asks, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick. “You just disappeared.”

You shrug, too casual. “Yeah. Just needed a breather.”

She takes a drag, exhales slow. “Right. A breather. After not dancing and not drinking that much.”

You shoot her a side-eye. “Do you always interrogate people for wanting fresh air?”

“Only when they’ve been acting weird since the bassist took the stage.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not slick, y’know.”

You scoff, glancing away before she can catch the way your face warms. "I don't know what you’re talking about."

Shoko chuckles like she definitely knows what she’s talking about, but bless her, she doesn’t press it. Just smirks, gives your arm a little nudge. “He was hot, though.”

You give a noncommittal hum, eyes scanning every shadowed corner, every rusted doorway, hoping—just hoping—you might catch another glimpse of him. Choso. You’re almost certain that’s his name. It suits him. Dark. Sharp.

You won’t tell her, of course, but—yes.

Yes, this was fun.

Yes, she was absolutely right to drag you here.

Yes, the bassist was fine as hell and maybe, just maybe, you’ve developed the tiniest, stupidest little crush on a guy whose voice you haven’t even heard yet.

But god, you want to.

Even just once.

A glimpse. A moment. Anything.

And just when you think it’s time to give up, to stop being delusional and head home—

The door swings open again.

And this time, it’s him.

Panic.

Real, irrational, full-body panic.

Because there he is. Standing a few feet away. In the flesh. The bassist.

Loose black button-up clinging to his frame, sleeves still rolled up from the show, revealing forearms that shouldn’t be legal. The glint of his rings catching the light. A faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his collarbone—god, you can see it because the top few buttons are still undone, teasing just enough pale skin to keep you up at night.

And his eyes—

His eyes are rimmed with that soft, dusty lavender, and they’re looking straight at you.

You glance side to side like you might Houdini yourself out of this moment. Maybe if you ran fast enough, you could avoid embarrassing yourself beyond repair. Maybe if you—

Shoko bumps your shoulder, casual and smug. “Now’s your chance.”

“Chance for what?” you hiss, heart thudding in your ears. “To spontaneously combust? To make an idiot out of myself?”

But it’s too late.

Because before you can overthink your next twelve moves or plan a strategic escape—

He’s walking toward you.

Slow, calm, confident.

Like he knows what he’s doing to you.

Before you can say something completely unhinged, like “your bass playing did something weird to my hormones”, you feel Shoko shift beside you.

You whip your head toward her, silently begging for assistance, for backup, for escape. But she just smirks, looking between the two of you like she already knows exactly how this night’s gonna go.

“Well,” she says with a wink, already turning on her heel. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull. “Shoko. No. Shoko, wait—SHOKO.”

But she’s already walking away like she didn’t just abandon you to the mercy of the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

And now—

Now he’s standing right in front of you.

He smells like sweat and incense and something dark—something addictive.

“You waited,” he says, voice lower than expected, rich. His lips curl, just barely. “Were you hoping for an autograph… or something else?”

You blink.

He knows.

Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.

An autograph? Something else? What the hell does something else even mean—wait, you know what it means, OH GOD—

“I—I wasn’t waiting— I mean, I was, but not like—like in a weird way or anything!” you blurt, the words tumbling out like a panicked avalanche. “Not that liking your music is weird. I mean, it was good! Really good. You were good. Not in that way, I mean—not that you wouldn’t be—oh my God—”

You slap a hand over your face.

Abort mission. Let the ground open up. End scene.

When you peek through your fingers, he’s just watching you, amused, head tilted slightly to the side.

Then—he chuckles. Actually chuckles.

It’s low and quiet and kind of devastating.

“I was right,” he murmurs, voice all honeyed steel. “Cute.”

You make a high-pitched noise that cannot be classified as human.

And Choso—Choso just leans in slightly, lowering his voice like he’s offering a secret.

“Relax. I don’t bite.” A beat. “Unless you want me to.”

You definitely stop breathing.

Your brain is just a dial-up tone as you stare at him, stunned into silence, because did he actually just say that? He did. He really did. And he’s still looking at you like he’s waiting for your answer.

But when you open your mouth, what comes out is: “I—uh—yeah. I mean no. I mean—I don’t know what I mean.”

He grins. Not a smirk. A real, soft little grin, like he likes the mess you’ve become.

“Wanna get some air?” he asks, jerking his chin toward the alleyway beside the venue, quieter now that the band’s done and the crowd’s thinned.

You nod way too fast.

So you end up outside, standing under the faded neon of the venue sign, arms crossed to hide how jittery you are. Choso leans against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette. The glow flares against his sharp cheekbones, his lashes casting shadows on his skin.

“So,” he says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “You liked the set?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to look at his hands. His tattooed fingers. “You were… really good.”

He hums, clearly amused. “Still not in that way?”

You bury your face in your hands again.

He laughs under his breath, then nudges your shoulder with his. “You got a name, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. 

Oh, how you were so very fucked.

You tell him your name. And when he repeats it softly, your knees almost give out.

Then he offers, “I’m Choso, by the way.”

Like it’s a gift.

And before the night ends, he asks if you’re coming to the next gig.

“Only if you’re playing,” you manage to say.

To which he replies, “I’ll be there if you are.”

-

shoko: hello?? where are you???

shoko: ANSWER ME

shoko: sigh

shoko: i didn’t want it to come to this but you leave me no choice

shoko: i’m checking your location.

shoko: GIRL WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING THERE

shoko: 2 missed calls

shoko: you better give me answers the second you're online...or else.

you: dot dot dot

shoko: WHAT. HAPPENED.

you: emergency phone call

shoko: 🧍‍♀️

shoko: you’re a terrible liar

you: ok but like. 

you: it wasn’t a lie. it was an emergency. a hot boy emergency

shoko: OH MY GOD. 

shoko: OH MY GOD. 

shoko: OH MY GODDDDD.

you: he talked to me

you: HE TALKED TO ME SHOKO

shoko: AND???

you: and i said dumb shit

you: and he still talked to me

you: and i think i blacked out at one point??

you: but like. the good kind

shoko:YOU’RE TELLING ME MYSTERIOUS HOT BASSIST MAN TALKED TO YOU AND YOU LIVED???

you: barely

you: i think i ascended actually

shoko: you’re telling me you were about to dip and then HE approached YOU????

you: he remembered me from the front row 😭

you: called me cute 😭😭

you: asked for my name 😭😭😭

you: CALLED ME SWEETHEART 😭😭😭😭

shoko: …girl.

shoko: i don’t wanna be dramatic

shoko: but i might start planning your wedding

you: pls help i’m still outside the venue trying not to combust

you: he said he’d see me again if i came to the next gig

you: SHOKO WHAT IF I GO TO EVERY GIG UNTIL I DIE

shoko: yeah bestie we’re in our groupie era now

-

You show up a whole forty minutes before the doors even open—Shoko said she’d meet you later, but you’re already leaning against the building like a total loser. Or an over zealous fan. Same thing, really.

You're debating if you should take a walk to kill time when the door swings open, and out steps him. Black button-up, sleeves rolled up again, a few buttons undone, and that familiar purple eyeshadow hugging his tired eyes. His lip quirks up the second he sees you.

“Excited to see me?” he asks, cocking his head as he strolls over. His voice is low, teasing—but not unkind.

Your face goes up in flames. “What—n-no. I mean yes. I mean—Shoko said she’d meet me later and I didn’t wanna be late, obviously.”

He hums, clearly amused. “Mhm. Obnoxiously early, huh?”

“Fashionably early,” you grumble, and he laughs, like you’re the most entertaining thing he’s heard all day.

Then he nods his head toward the door. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

You blink. Wait. Right now??

You glance down at your outfit—cute enough for the gig, maybe not cute enough to meet him again, let alone his entire band. But he’s already walking, and you’re a fool if you don’t follow.

The door creaks open, and you’re hit with the low hum of conversation, faint music playing from someone’s phone, and the scent of sweat and cologne. Your heart’s going a mile a minute.

“Yo,” Choso calls, and two heads turn.

The tall white-haired man draped across the couch offers a lazy grin. “Oh? Who’s this?”

Choso leans against the doorframe and jerks a thumb toward you. “She’s the one I was talking about.”

Your eyes widen. Talking about?? Since when???

“Ooooh,” the other guy drawls from where he’s fiddling with a drumstick, hair tied back and gaze sharp as ever. “So this is her.”

“Shut up,” Choso mutters, but there’s a hint of pink dusting his ears. He looks back at you, eyes soft. “That’s Satoru—he never shuts up. And that’s Suguru. Don’t let him fool you—he’s worse.”

“Lies and slander,” Satoru says with a wink.

You’re frozen. Do you wave? Speak? Die on the spot?

“Hi,” you say, awkwardly.

Suguru offers a small nod. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Finally???

Satoru leans forward with a devilish grin. “Choso wouldn’t shut up about you, y’know?”

Choso visibly tenses. “Go bother someone else.”

But it’s too late—you’re already flushed to your ears, and Satoru’s howling with laughter.

“You’re cute,” he tells you. “You can stick around.”

You glance at Choso, and he gives you the smallest smile. Like you belong here.

And for the first time—you think maybe you do.

He walks ahead a bit, glancing over his shoulder as he gestures toward the sound booth. “That’s Nao, our sound tech. She’s the only reason we don’t sound like trash onstage.”

Nao waves without looking up from her monitor, and you awkwardly lift a hand back. Choso chuckles under his breath.

He keeps going, showing you the light setup, where they stash backup guitars, even the vending machine he’s pretty sure is haunted. Every person you pass gives you that look—oh, so this is the girl.

Your fingers twist nervously around the strap of your bag. It’s not like they’re being unfriendly. If anything, everyone’s nice. Welcoming, even. But still—you can’t shake the nerves bubbling in your chest.

You feel his gaze before you hear his voice.

“Nervous?” he asks, quiet and low.

You blink up at him. He’s standing close now, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket, watching you like he’s not sure if he’s scaring you or if you’re just shy.

You swallow. “A little.”

His mouth twitches—almost a smile. “You don’t have to be. Everyone’s chill.”

You nod, but you know the tension is still written all over your face.

And then—he reaches out. Just a light touch to your wrist. “Hey. I asked you here ‘cause I wanted you to come. Not to freak you out.”

His voice is soft now, just for you.

You manage a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It’s just… new.”

He shrugs, lips curling slightly. “Yeah. But I’m not that scary, right?”

You meet his eyes, and the look he gives you—teasing but warm—makes your stomach flip.

“…Not yet,” you murmur.

And he laughs, head tilted back like you just said the funniest thing all night. “You’re cute.”

Great. Now you’re even more nervous.

He walks you over to the stage setup, lights dim and moody, the buzz of crew members in the background. The instruments are neatly arranged—drum kits, amps, tangled cords, and at the center, his guitar resting on its stand.

He picks it up effortlessly, letting the strap fall over his shoulder. His fingers settle over the strings, and he begins to strum, absentmindedly. It’s not even a real song, just soft notes—but it’s hypnotizing.

Especially the way his fingers move. Long, slender, practiced.

You're staring. Absolutely entranced.

“Wanna try playing?” he asks suddenly.

You snap out of it so fast it’s embarrassing. “H-huh?”

He chuckles, soft and low. “Bit distracted there, sweetheart. You okay?”

“I’m good. Mhm.” You nod a little too quickly, plastering on a tight smile as your face warms. You hope he doesn’t notice, but that knowing glint in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He steps toward you with the guitar, offering it out with a slight tilt of his head. “Here.”

Your hands hover uncertainly. “O-oh… I don’t know how to play.”

He just smiles. “It’s alright, I’ll help you.”

He walks behind you, close enough that you feel the warmth of him at your back. You swear your heart skips a beat when his arms slip around you, guiding yours. He’s gentle as he places your left hand along the neck of the guitar, adjusting your fingers over the frets, his hand covering yours.

“Just relax,” he murmurs, voice right by your ear.

Your breath hitches.

“Shit—sorry, too close?” he asks quickly, voice laced with concern.

“N-no! It’s fine! Totally fine.” You somehow manage to stand upright.

He smiles again, that soft kind of amused. “Alright, just press here... yeah, that’s it.” He places your fingers on the strings. “Now, strum with this hand—lightly. Let the strings breathe.”

You try, hesitantly dragging your fingers down the strings. A clumsy note sounds out.

Choso hums. “Not bad. Now, try a G chord—here, like this.” His fingers mold yours again, warm and careful.

You nod, barely able to think with him this close, and repeat the motion. It sounds... slightly better.

“See?” he says, praising you with a smile in his voice. “Fast learner.”

You glance up at him over your shoulder, heart fluttering. “Maybe I just have a good teacher.”

His lips quirk, and he looks at you like you’ve just made his night.

“Well,” he says, “I am good with my hands.”

Your brain short-circuits.

He grins when he hears that soft, breathy little sound escape your lips.

“O-oh,” you stammer, eyes wide as you blink up at him.

His smile deepens, all teasing and low charm. “Didn’t mean to make you nervous,” he says, though he definitely did. 

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but your brain’s gone completely blank. The only thing in your head is him. His voice, his scent, the low buzz of his guitar still humming in your hands.

“I—uh, yeah. No. You’re doing great. I mean—I’m doing great. I mean—thank you.”

He laughs. Not mockingly—it's soft, sweet, like he finds you genuinely adorable.

“You’re cute when you get flustered,” he says, voice quiet.

You look down at the guitar in your hands, pretending very hard to be focused on the strings.

“Maybe we’ll get you to play a whole song next time.”

You blink. “Next time?”

He shrugs casually, stepping back just enough to make you miss his warmth. “If you’re coming to the next gig, I figured I’d see you again.”

And then, with the most casual confidence, he adds, “You wanna?”

You blink up at him, heart still pounding from the way he practically wrapped himself around you moments ago. But then—somehow—you find your footing, just enough to muster a sliver of confidence.

You clear your throat, giving him a lopsided little smile. “Let’s see how this one goes first.”

His brows shoot up, clearly amused. “Is that a challenge?”

You shrug, trying not to melt under his gaze. “Depends. You think you can handle it?”

Choso laughs—a low, warm sound that vibrates in your chest more than your ears. He leans in again, just a little, his face dangerously close to yours. “Sweetheart,” he says, voice like silk, “I know I can.”

-

The crowd is thicker than last time. Hazy neon lights wash the walls in streaks of violet and red, and the room thrums with anticipation. You can feel the energy buzzing through your fingertips, your legs bouncing where you sit off to the side of the stage.

Choso catches your eye just before stepping on. He’s dressed in that same loose black button-up—top few buttons undone, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tattoos stark against his pale skin. His eyes are lined in that soft purple hue again, hair falling wild to his neck, and yet he somehow looks composed. Grounded. Like he was born to be here.

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a look—half smirk, half something softer—and it sends butterflies flurrying in your chest.

And then: the lights dim. The crowd erupts. The band takes the stage.

Suguru on drums, flashing a grin at the front row before twirling his sticks and slamming into the first beat like a force of nature. Satoru struts forward, mic in hand, already oozing charisma, and Choso—Choso slides into position with his bass like it’s a part of him. One hand gripping the neck, the other plucking strings with a lazy, practiced ease.

The sound hits you like a wave. Loud. Gritty. Addictive.

But even as the music drowns everything out, your eyes stay locked on him.

Choso doesn’t look at the crowd. Doesn’t need to. He’s in his own world—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, swaying with the rhythm like the bass is leading him. And yet, somehow, he still finds a way to glance at you.

Just for a second. A flicker of a smirk.

And that’s when you realize it.

He’s playing for them—but looking at you.

And that smolder in his gaze? That spark that coils low in your belly?

It’s all for you.

-

The crowd’s roars have faded, the lights are dimming, and you’re still standing there, heart racing. Choso’s walking off stage, sweat-slick and glowing, bass still strapped to his back, and the second his eyes find you he smiles. Soft. Lopsided. Like it’s just for you.

He weaves through the staff with ease, and before you can fully brace yourself, he’s in front of you, that same lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t think you’d actually stick around,” he teases, voice low, raspy from the set.

You roll your eyes, a little bashful. “Had to see if your fingers really lived up to the hype.”

His brows shoot up, surprised—and then he laughs. It’s deep and warm and it makes your stomach do flips. “Oh? And?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “I’m not sure yet. Might need a private performance to decide.”

And damn, now he’s the one blushing.

He blinks. Once. Twice. And then that lazy grin deepens into something more—something that makes your throat dry.

“A private performance, huh?” he echoes, slinging the bass off his shoulder, setting it down like he’s done this a thousand times before—cool, collected, practiced. “You planning to book me?”

You cross your arms, trying to look unbothered despite the heat crawling up your neck. “Maybe. Depends on your rates.”

He steps closer, just a little, enough to tilt his head down to look at you properly. His voice drops lower. “I charge in coffee. Late-night conversations. And the occasional secret.”

“Oh?” you arch a brow. “That’s expensive.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’re worth it.”

Pause.

Your heart skips. Literally skips.

And suddenly it’s too quiet. The post-show noise is just background hum now—muffled cheers, clinks of beer bottles, bandmates laughing somewhere behind you. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person who matters in this moment. Like he wants to learn you.

So you try to deflect, half-teasing, “You say that to all the girls who hang around after shows?”

He hums, like he’s pretending to think. “No,” he says finally. “You’re the only one who stayed quiet the whole time. Just… watched.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Was it creepy?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. It was nice. Felt like you were listening to more than just the music.”

You weren’t. You were listening to him.

But you don’t say that. Instead, you glance away, pretending not to be swooning.

And then—

“Hey,” he says softly, nudging your chin with two fingers to bring your gaze back to his. “Wanna get outta here?”

Your breath hitches. “Huh?”

He smiles, easy and relaxed, eyes scanning your face like he’s memorizing it. “There’s this spot a few blocks from here—low lights, decent drinks, great fries. Thought maybe I could buy you one. A drink, not a fry,” he adds with a little chuckle.

Your heart is thudding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. “Are you… asking me out?”

He shrugs, casual but undeniably charming. “If I said yes, would you say no?”

You try to play it cool, crossing your arms even though your insides are a whole storm. “You planning to pull that whole mysterious musician act the whole time?”

He leans in just a bit, close enough for your noses to nearly brush. “Only if it gets me a second date.”

And just like that, you’re done for.

“...I guess I could go for a drink.”

His grin widens. “Good. I’ll grab my jacket.”

-

The bar he takes you to is tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place you wouldn’t find unless someone told you about it. There’s warm yellow lighting, a soft hum of old-school music playing on the speakers, and barely anyone around. It’s intimate in a way that makes your skin feel warm before you’ve even taken a sip of your drink.

He lets you slide into the booth first, then settles in across from you. His hands rest on the table, rings catching the light, and you find your gaze drawn to them—again. Damn those fingers.

“I’m not used to people sticking around after shows,” he says, eyes not leaving yours.

“I’m not used to chasing after bassists,” you shoot back, lips twitching.

He smirks. “So I’m special, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile you’re fighting wins. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Your drinks come. He lets you steal a sip of his. You let him steal two of yours.

“What got you into music?” you ask after a while, resting your chin on your hand.

He leans back, gaze flickering up like he’s searching the ceiling for the answer. “My dad, actually. He taught me how to play. He was obsessed with rhythm—said it was the heart of everything.”

You nod slowly. “He still around?”

Choso shakes his head. “Nah. Been a while. But I think he’d get a kick out of seeing me like this.”

There’s a quiet between you, not awkward, just full. You sip your drink.

“What about you?” he asks. “What do you do when you’re not falling for mysterious musicians at dive bars?”

You raise a brow. “Who said I was falling?”

His lips curve. “Touché.”

You end up telling him more than you thought you would. About your work, your favorite food, even boring little details. But he listens like every word matters. Laughs when you least expect it. His foot nudges yours under the table halfway through the night, and it stays there.

Eventually, the lights get lower, and the bar empties out.

“Guess we closed the place down,” you say, glancing around.

Choso’s watching you with a soft look. “Wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Your heart flutters. “Same place?”

He smiles, gaze never leaving yours. “Sure.”

The night doesn’t end there.

He insists on walking you home—no arguments, no jokes, just slips his hand into yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And you let him, fingers intertwining with his, warmth blooming in your chest. It’s a quiet walk, but not the awkward kind. It’s that gentle, late-night calm. Like the whole world slowed down just for the two of you.

And for once, he’s not the brooding bassist with sharp eyeliner and calloused fingers. He’s just Choso. A guy who likes the way your hand fits in his. A guy who lets out a soft chuckle when you shiver and instinctively step closer.

You reach your place too soon.

You stop at the doorstep, neither of you making a move. No one says anything. You should probably say something. Goodnight. Thanks. This was fun. But the words get caught somewhere in your throat.

He steps closer instead.

There’s a breath between you. Just one.

And then his lips are on yours—soft, almost hesitant, like he’s asking if this is okay. And you answer him by fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him in. His hand comes up to your cheek, holding you steady as he kisses you again. Still gentle. Still quiet. But it makes your head spin all the same.

When he finally pulls back, he stays close, forehead pressed lightly to yours.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your heart might’ve actually stopped.

You slam the door shut behind you, back pressed against it, heart pounding so hard you swear it echoes in your ribcage. You stare at your phone, wide-eyed, thumbs flying:

you: SHOKO

you: SHOKO I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP

you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY 

shoko: it’s literally 1am

shoko: you better be on fire 

you: I KISSED HIM

shoko: what

shoko: WHO

shoko: WAIT

shoko: WAIT.

you: YES. HIM.

shoko: THE HOT GUITAR PLAYER???

you: CHOSO. YES. YES. YES

shoko: oh my god you’re so gone

you: HE WALKED ME HOME. HELD MY HAND. KISSED ME. I AM GONE GONE.

shoko: AAAAAAAAAAA

you: HE SAID ‘GOODNIGHT SWEETHEART’

shoko: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

you: I KNOW

You toss your phone onto the bed, face planting right after it, squealing into your pillow like a teenager all over again.

Because you kissed him. And he kissed you back. And you’re never sleeping tonight.

-

You’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room is quiet—too quiet. You’ve already scrolled through your entire feed twice, tried reading, even got up to make tea you didn’t drink.

Then your phone lights up.

Incoming call: Choso.

Your heart stutters.

You take a breath and answer. “…Hey.”

His voice is warm on the other end. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Same,” he says. “Kept thinking about you.”

Your breath catches. You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, like it might calm your racing heart.

There’s a small silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s soft. Comfortable. Like neither of you really wants to hang up.

He speaks again, voice a little lower. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You try to play it off. “I put in effort. Didn’t want to show up looking like I did last time.”

“I liked that too,” he says. “But tonight you walked in and I forgot what the hell I was doing.”

You laugh, hiding your face in your pillow.

“I wish I could see you again right now,” he says.

“Me too.”

“Would it be too much if I said I kinda wanna fall asleep listening to you?”

Your stomach flips.

You whisper, “Then stay on the line.”

And you do—both of you quiet, just breathing, letting the silence say everything.

-

You're standing outside the bar, shifting on your feet, trying to act like you haven’t been checking your reflection in every window on the walk here.

This time, your outfit isn’t casual by accident. You planned it. Styled your hair just right. Even put on that gloss you save for special occasions.

You step inside and immediately spot him, leaning back against a booth like he owns the place, one arm slung lazily over the seat. His eyes lift—

—and damn.

They rake down your figure slowly, like he���s drinking you in. And when they return to your face, there’s the smallest upward curve to his lips.

“Someone dressed to impress,” he says, standing as you approach.

“Maybe,” you reply, coy. “You are the star of the show, after all.”

He laughs low in his throat, hand brushing the small of your back as he leans in close. “Nah,” he murmurs. “Tonight, it’s all about you.”

You sit together in the same booth. This time, there’s no ice to break. The tension simmers warm between you—his knee bumps yours under the table and doesn’t move away. His eyes flicker to your lips more than once.

“So,” you say, swirling your drink. “What happens after drinks, guitar boy?”

He smirks, elbow resting on the table as he leans closer. “Depends. You thinking of letting me kiss you again?”

You raise your brows. “You planning on asking?”

He tilts his head. “I could. But you didn’t seem to need much prompting last time.”

That earns him a playful nudge. And a flustered laugh.

He grins. "Take your time, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere."

The jukebox crackles as the next track begins—slow, dreamy, sweet.

Like falling asleep in warm hands. Like the part in a romance film where everything softens.

Before you can even comment on the vibe shift, Choso is rising from the booth, hand extended toward you, palm up.

Your brows lift. “You serious?”

He just smiles. “C’mon. Dance with me.”

You hesitate—because, what? In a bar? With him?? But his fingers flex, waiting, and the way he’s looking at you makes it impossible to say no.

You slip your hand into his.

He pulls you gently to the dance floor. There’s no one else there—just you, him, and the slow rhythm bleeding from the speakers. His hands settle on your waist. Yours hover awkwardly before curling behind his neck.

You sway.

“I didn’t take you for a dancer,” you mumble, heart skipping when he twirls you suddenly.

He smirks. “I’m not.”

You laugh—loud and sweet and so damn happy. And when he catches you again, you don’t pull away. Instead, you melt into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the soft thud of his heartbeat under the fabric of his shirt.

His hand traces slow circles on your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, nuzzling in closer. “Yeah… It’s perfect.”

He rests his chin lightly atop your head. And neither of you says another word.

Not when the song ends.

Not when the next one starts.

Because for that moment—it’s just the two of you, swaying under dim lights, held together by the sound of a love song.

-

You step outside into the night, your breath curling in pale puffs. The air is colder than before, wrapping around your bare arms like a whispered warning. You shiver.

Without a word, Choso shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. His hand rests at your waist, warm and firm, grounding you.

For a while, you just stand there—side by side, quiet. The city buzzes in the distance, cars passing, streetlights humming.

You glance up at him, and he’s already looking at you. Hard.

Like he’s trying to memorize the slope of your jaw. The way the wind lifts your hair. The way your lips part just slightly when you breathe.

“What?” you ask, a soft laugh in your voice, raising an eyebrow.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Just wets his lips. His fingers flex against your hip.

“I just…” he starts, voice rough with restraint. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You blink, heart thudding once. Twice.

The pause stretches.

“Yeah?” you murmur, leaning in a fraction. Teasing.

He nods once. Barely.

You smile—heart pounding in your throat. “So why don’t you?”

And that’s all it takes.

He cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing the apples of your cheeks like you’re made of porcelain. And when his lips finally meet yours—it’s soft. Slow. Full of the tension he’s been carrying all night, unspooling between you in breathless silence.

His nose bumps yours. Your hands fist the front of his shirt again. Just like last time.

Only this time, you don’t stop at one kiss.

And when you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice low:

“You’re gonna ruin me, y’know that?”

You laugh, barely a whisper against his lips, breath mingling with his. “Then I guess I better make it worth your while.”

That gets a reaction.

His gaze darkens just slightly, lips twitching into the faintest smirk as his hands slide down from your cheeks, one settling at the nape of your neck while the other pulls you flush against him. “You trying to kill me, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer.

Because you’re already kissing him again.

This time it’s different.

Less hesitant.

More hungry.

Your fingers find his hair, tangling in the dark strands that fall just past his neck, tugging gently until he groans into your mouth. He kisses you deeper, like he’s starved, like he hasn’t been thinking about this since the first night he met you in the crowd, eyes wide and awe-struck.

His hand grips your waist, fingers digging in—not too hard, but enough to make your breath hitch.

You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to nip at your bottom lip, tongue flicking against it before pulling back just enough to breathe:

“You’re trouble.”

You blink up at him, dazed, lips kiss-swollen and heart racing. “You’re one to talk.”

And he laughs—low and breathy, pressing another quick kiss to your mouth like he can’t help himself.

“C’mon,” he murmurs. “Let me walk you home before I get any worse ideas.”

The walk back is quiet—but not the awkward kind. It’s heavy with something, charged with unspoken words and lingering touches. His fingers brush yours with every step, and each time it happens, your breath catches.

You swear he’s doing it on purpose.

But you don’t stop him.

The streetlights cast a soft glow on him, turning his features golden for a moment, then shadowed the next. He looks… different like this. Softer. Less like the untouchable bassist who had you practically drooling the first night, and more like someone you could fall for if you’re not careful.

You sneak a glance at him.

He’s already looking at you.

You look away fast, heart leaping, and he chuckles under his breath.

"Cold?" he asks, tugging you gently closer.

You nod, even though that’s not why you’re shaking.

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your head fits against him perfectly, and his hand rubs slow circles against your arm, warm and grounding.

“Still nervous?” he murmurs.

You laugh quietly. “Little bit.”

“Me too.”

You tilt your head to look at him, surprised. “Really?”

He nods. “You make me nervous.”

You’re about to say something—anything—but then you’ve reached your place.

And suddenly, you don’t want to go inside.

He stops in front of your door, letting you go with a reluctant sigh. His hand lingers on your arm for a second longer before falling away.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then he shoves his hands into his pockets and asks, “You gonna call me?”

You nod. “If you answer.”

He grins. “Always.”

You hesitate—just for a second—and then press a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, but the way his breath hitches tells you it did the trick.

“Goodnight, Choso.”

And before he can pull you in again, before you can throw all common sense out the window and kiss him properly, you slip inside.

Heart pounding. Lips tingling.

-

You wake up with your heart still pounding.

And not because of a nightmare.

Nope. This was worse.

Because it was real.

You kissed Choso.

Again.

And not in a dreamlike, floaty, “this could be a maybe” kind of way. You kissed him after swaying in his arms like some romcom protagonist. You kissed him, and he kissed you back, and you felt your knees give just a little, and you definitely whimpered against his mouth like a fool.

You groan and roll onto your side, burying your face in your pillow.

You’re so doomed.

Your phone vibrates.

You blink and grab it, squinting at the screen.

choso: didn’t want to wake you but i just wanted to say

choso: thank you for last night

You freeze.

Sit up slowly.

Your heartbeat? Violent.

You tap out a reply, delete it, rewrite it, delete again. Finally, you just go with:

you: it was nothing :)

Immediately after sending it:

you: i’m being weird aren’t i ignore me please

And then:

you: but also don’t ignore me because i liked it and i like you and i’m going to stop talking now before i make it worse

Your phone is dangerously quiet for thirty seconds.

Then it buzzes again.

choso: you’re not being weird.

choso: you’re being adorable

choso: i like you too

choso: also… can i see you again tonight?

You shriek into your pillow.

And then type:

you: you better

-

You weren’t expecting it when he texted you earlier that day.

come to the studio. i want you to hear something.

Now here you are, walking through a narrow hallway that smells like cigarettes and worn leather, Choso’s voice telling the receptionist to let you in. He meets you at the door, hoodie on, hair loosely tied back, a pair of headphones slung around his neck.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes raking over you with a small smile tugging at his lips.

You smile back, brushing past him as he closes the door behind you. The studio is dimly lit, a warm orange hue cast by the LED strips lining the edges of the ceiling. There’s a worn-out couch in the corner, an empty coffee cup on the desk, and wires everywhere.

He leads you to a chair beside him. “Wrote something last night. Thought you might want to hear it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Inspired by anything?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a look.

He clicks a few keys on his laptop, and music starts playing—slow, rich bass, soft drums, a melody that feels like it’s watching you breathe. Then lyrics—his voice, lower and raspier than usual.

And the words? They burn.

It’s about being unable to get someone off your mind. About how they haunt your quiet moments. About wanting something that feels dangerous and delicate at the same time.

When it ends, there’s a beat of silence.

“…You wrote that?” you ask.

Choso nods, slow. “All of it.”

“It’s…” Your voice catches. “It’s beautiful.”

He leans back, watching you carefully. “It’s about you. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

The room feels smaller. Hotter. You swallow.

You murmur, “I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on you.”

“You don’t,” he says, stepping closer. “You have more.”

He’s standing between your knees now. One hand on the armrest beside you. The other gently tilts your chin up.

“Can I kiss you again?”

You nod before your brain even catches up.

And then he does—slower this time. Like he’s savoring it. His lips slot against yours and the world blurs. His hand slips to your waist, drawing you closer, and you wrap your arms around his neck without thinking.

The music plays on in the background. But neither of you hears it.

His lips are warm against yours, stealing every thought from your head. One kiss turns into two, then three—deeper, slower, more intense. His hands settle on your waist, firm, grounding. You melt into him without thinking.

But then—between kisses, you manage a breathless whisper, lips brushing his as you speak.

“Choso, not here—there’s people around.”

His eyes open slowly, pupils blown wide. He glances around, then back at you, and that look in his eyes? It's trouble.

Without saying a word, he grabs your hand. “Come on.”

You barely catch your breath before he’s pulling you along, weaving past people, straight toward the exit. His grip doesn’t loosen, even when he’s fumbling for his keys. He unlocks his car in a rush and opens the passenger door for you before sliding into the driver’s seat himself.

The whole ride is charged—silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional stolen glance. He taps the steering wheel with his fingers, the ones that had just been ghosting over your skin minutes ago.

When he pulls into the parking lot of his building, he doesn’t waste time. Hands still locked with yours, he leads you upstairs, heart pounding just as fast as yours.

The second the door shuts behind you, he turns around—and everything finally snaps.

Choso doesn’t pounce. He doesn’t rush.

He leans against the door, just watching you. Taking you in like it’s the first time. His eyes roam your face, your lips—your heaving chest. There’s a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he’s trying not to smile.

“You sure?” he asks, voice low, husky.

You nod, breathless. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes.

He pushes off the door slowly, strides over like a man with nowhere else to be. His hands find your waist, gentle at first, then firm. His head dips down, lips ghosting over your jaw, your cheek, your mouth—but he doesn’t kiss you yet.

“You look so pretty tonight,” he murmurs, voice thick with restraint.

His nose grazes your neck, and you shudder. Every place his breath touches feels like it’s burning.

“You always look pretty,” he adds, kissing just below your ear now. “But tonight?”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, lips brushing lower.

“You’re killing me.”

Your hands find the hem of his hoodie, fingers twitching as you lift it up slowly—exposing the pale skin of his stomach inch by inch. He lets you, arms raised, letting the fabric slide off and onto the floor. The tattoos swirl over his chest, catching the soft glow of the apartment lights, and your fingers can’t help but trace them.

“Still nervous?” he asks, voice rougher now.

You shake your head. “No. Just… can’t believe this is real.”

Choso tilts your chin up, makes you look at him. His gaze is so intense it steals the breath from your lungs.

“It is,” he says. “And we’ve got all night.”

He kisses you again, this time softer, slower. No rush. Just lips moving against yours with quiet reverence, like he’s memorizing the shape of your mouth.

His hands stay on your waist, warm and steady, but you feel the way his thumbs are drawing lazy circles on your skin—like he’s trying to ground himself. Like he’s savoring the moment as much as you are.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He hums into the kiss, one hand sliding up your back, fingers curling into your hair.

The path to the bedroom is a blur.

You’re not sure how you get there—if he carries you, or if you walk, tangled up in each other, lips never parting for more than a breath.

The room is dim, lit only by the city lights bleeding through the blinds. It paints both of you in silver and shadow. Choso backs you toward the bed, and when your knees hit the edge, he pauses. Looks down at you like you’re something sacred.

You swallow, heart thundering. “Are you gonna keep staring or—”

“Shh.” He dips his head, kisses your neck, just under your jaw. “Let me take my time with you.”

You shiver. God, his voice—low, velvet, dangerous.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pushes you onto the bed and you bounce slightly on it. He’s crawling up your body, hands trailing along your sides, slipping beneath your shirt—fingertips so gentle it sends goosebumps across your skin. You raise your arms, let him take it off. He discards it carefully, almost reverently, and then he’s touching you again.

It’s not frantic. It’s worship.

The way he kisses down your chest, murmuring things you can’t even process. The way he handles you like he’s scared you’ll break. His mouth is everywhere—leaving warmth and wetness and little marks that’ll be there tomorrow. Proof that this happened. That he happened.

When his hands slip lower, and he finally asks, “Can I?”—you nod, breathless, and he grins, slow and sinful.

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I’m not stopping tonight.”

His touch starts soft. Teasing.

His fingers graze along your thigh, slipping under your skirt. Just the pad of one finger tracing your inner thigh, slow and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you. He watches your reactions closely—every breath, every twitch, every clench of your thighs like it’s his favorite show.

“Already shaking,” he murmurs with a smirk, fingers drifting up higher, stopping just at the edge of your underwear. “And I’ve barely touched you.”

When he finally slips his hand beneath the fabric of your panties, his fingers are warm, his touch confident. He finds you wet—soaked—and he groans low in his throat.

“Fuck... all this for me?”

His middle finger drags through your folds, slow and deliberate, gathering everything, spreading it around before circling your clit—just barely touching it. It’s maddening.

“You’re already this worked up,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss your jaw. “What happens when I really start?”

He’s rushing to take your underwear off, almost ripping them in the process. Then—finally—he eases a finger inside.

It’s slow at first. Just one finger, shallow thrusts, curling up and stroking that spot inside you until your hips start chasing him, greedy for more. He watches your face the whole time, eats up every whimper.

“Choso… more,” you whisper, barely able to speak.

His eyes flick up, dark and hungry. “Yeah?” he murmurs. “You can take another?”

You nod, breathless.

He slides a second finger in—thicker, deeper. His palm presses against your clit as his fingers work inside you, curling just right, just enough pressure to make your back arch. His other hand grabs your thigh, keeps you open and steady as he builds a rhythm.

It’s obscene—the wet, messy sounds of his fingers fucking into you—but it only makes him grin.

“You hear that, sweetheart?” he says lowly. 

You’re gasping now, clutching the sheets, legs shaking. He really is good with his hands.

“C’mon,” he whispers against your neck, tongue darting out to taste you. “Let go for me.”

And with one more curl, one more stroke—you do.

You come around his fingers, back arching, a moan ripped from your chest as he keeps moving through it, working you until you’re twitching, thighs trembling against him.

When he finally pulls his fingers out, he brings them to his lips.

“Tastes even better than I imagined,” he says, voice low and ruined.

He doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath.

The second those words leave his mouth, his gaze drops—hungry, wicked—and before you can ask what he’s doing, he’s already moving.

He’s moving down your body, settling between your legs, hands parting your thighs, spreading you wide open for him. You barely manage a gasp before his mouth is on you.

And fuck.

He licks a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit—moaning against you like he’s tasting something divine. His tongue is hot, wet, firm—flicking against your clit before flattening and dragging against it again. He’s not shy. He devours.

You twitch under him, gasping, and his grip on your thighs tightens.

“Stay still for me,” he murmurs against you, breath fanning over your soaked heat. “Let me eat, baby.”

And oh, does he eat.

He buries his face between your legs like he’s starved—lips and tongue and heat and mess, sucking your clit into his mouth, groaning when your fingers grab his hair and pull. His nose nudges your clit, the piercings in his ears cold against your thigh.

His hands slide under your ass, lifting your hips just right so he can get even deeper. His tongue fucks into you, messy and wet, before he pulls back to mouth at your clit again.

You’re a wreck—panting, eyes rolling back, legs trembling on either side of his head. He loves it. You can tell by the way he hums into you, nose buried in your folds, like every whimper out of you is a personal victory.

Your thighs start to close around his head—he lets them. Arms locking around your legs, holding you there like he wants to be suffocated. And with one more flick of his tongue—one more swirl, one more perfect pressure—

You cry out, hips jerking, thighs clenching, and he doesn’t stop. He works you through it, licking, kissing, groaning against your cunt like he’s drunk off you.

When your body finally slumps back against the mattress, dazed and spent, he pulls back just enough to look up at you.

His mouth glistens. His eyes are wrecked.

And he licks his lips.

“Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Choso’s mouth is still hot against yours, the kiss messy and hungry, his tongue sliding over yours like he can’t get enough of the taste of you. 

He unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants down along with his boxers, his girthy length slapping against his abdomen. Your mouth parts in a soft gasp at the sight of it. But you don't have time to marvel at it. His hands are already on your thighs, pushing them up—higher, higher—until you're folded in half in a mean mating press.

“Gonna keep you like this,” he murmurs, voice rough, chest heaving. “Wanna see your face while I fuck you.”

Your breath catches.

His hands hook behind your knees, holding them open as he shifts forward. The position has you completely laid out for him, helpless beneath the weight of his body. You feel his cock, thick and hard, dragging over your slick entrance—and then he pushes in, slow and deep.

You whimper—a sound torn from your throat, soft and wrecked, your back arching as he presses deeper.

Choso groans, low and guttural, head falling forward to rest against yours. His breath fans hot across your cheek, and you swear you can feel the tremble in his arms as he holds himself still—just for a second.

“F-fuck…” he breathes, voice rough with restraint. “You’re so fucking tight like this…”

His hips roll forward again, slower this time, the movement deliberate—like he wants you to feel every inch. “Feels like you’re made for me,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a rasp.

Your fingers scramble across the expanse of his back, nails dragging, searching for something to ground you. His shoulders, his arms, anything—because the way he’s filling you, stretching you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

Then he starts to move. Deep. Steady. And the new angle is devastating.

He hits every spot just right, his cock dragging along your walls, slow and purposeful, grinding into the deepest parts of you with every thrust. Your legs tremble in his hold, pinned back and open for him, the pressure building with each stroke. Your jaw falls open, a moan slipping free—high-pitched and desperate.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

But it’s not pain. No—never that.

It’s overwhelming. It’s perfect. It’s him.

“You’re taking it so well,” he grits out, eyes burning into yours as his pace deepens. “Fuck—just like that, baby. Taking all of me.”

You blink up at him, dazed, lips parted as your moans spill freely. He leans down—closer, closer—until your thighs are nearly flush to your chest and his weight settles on top of you, heavy and grounding.

And he fucks you.

Not rough, but intentional—each stroke slow and deep, hips rolling so he never leaves you empty. He watches your face, watches every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes. Like he’s trying to memorize it. All of it.

Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling when his thrusts grind just right. His name escapes you in a whimper—over and over, his name like a mantra.

“Choso—” you gasp. “Oh my God—Choso, I-I…”

“I know,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.”

You’re soaked—messy, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling where your bodies meet. The wet slap of skin on skin is loud in the room, underscored by the soft creak of the mattress and your broken cries.

He shifts, angling just so, and you shatter.

Your body seizes, nails digging into his back as your orgasm rips through you, sudden and all-consuming. A sob leaves your throat, your back arching as your walls flutter and clamp down around him.

With a low groan, he shifts—gently, carefully—his hands sliding beneath your thighs to lower them. You gasp softly when he wraps your legs around his waist, keeping you close, keeping you full, as his hips press flush to yours.

He groans—a raw, broken sound—his hips stuttering. “Shit—fuck, I’m close—where do you want it, sweetheart?”

You barely think. You just nod, desperate. “Inside—please—inside.”

That’s all he needs.

He presses in deep, body trembling, a shudder running through him as he spills into you, cock twitching with every pulse of his release. You feel the heat of it—so much, thick and warm as it fills you up. And still, he doesn’t stop.

He keeps moving—soft, shallow thrusts that drag it out, that make your body twitch and whimper, overstimulated and glowing.

His name slips from your lips again, quieter this time, your fingers trailing down his back, soothing over sweat-slick skin.

And then—finally—he stills.

Buried to the hilt. Breathing hard. Forehead pressed to your shoulder, lips ghosting over your collarbone.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, voice low and reverent.

His hands settle on your waist, thumbs stroking your skin like he’s grounding himself.

"Don’t want to let go just yet," he murmurs, voice rough with emotion and aftermath. He leans down, kissing your shoulder, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “Feels too good like this.”

You hum, dazed and pliant, arms winding around his neck as your forehead rests against his. His weight, his warmth—it’s comforting. Heavy in the best way.

Every small shift makes you gasp—too sensitive, too raw—but you don’t ask him to move.

You don’t want him to either.

And neither does he.

So he stays there—buried deep, your legs locked around his waist, your bodies tangled as if they were always meant to be like this.

After, when the haze finally starts to fade, Choso is the first to move—but only just.

He brushes your hair from your face with slow fingers, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and full of concern. Gentle. So gentle. “Was that… too much?”

You shake your head, barely able to speak as you whisper, “No. It was perfect.”

He exhales, and the breath sounds like relief. Like he needed to hear that.

Without a word, he slips out of bed, grabbing a warm cloth and returning to you. He moves with such care—his hands slow, wiping between your thighs with reverence, like you’re something precious. You flinch a little at the sensitivity, and he mumbles a soft “Sorry” as he presses a kiss to your knee, his gaze flickering up to check on you again.

Once you’re clean, he tosses the cloth aside and crawls back under the covers. You instinctively curl into him, and he opens his arms wide, pulling you in, tucking your head beneath his chin.

His fingers trace slow, lazy circles along your spine. Your legs are tangled with his, your body warm and sore and safe. He smells like sweat and sex and his cologne, and you want to fall asleep in this exact moment, forever.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs against your hair.

You blink up at him. “That’s my line.”

He smiles, barely-there but so real. “Guess we’ll take turns.”

You laugh—quiet, muffled against his chest—and he hums along with it, fingers still moving along your back.

A silence settles between you, but it isn’t awkward. It’s peaceful. The kind that only comes after letting someone see you bare in every way.

He breaks it eventually, voice thick with sleep. “You staying over?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

You nod, eyes fluttering closed. “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

And neither would he.

So he kisses the top of your head one more time, murmurs something soft and unintelligible against your skin, and lets himself fall asleep with you in his arms.

Exactly where you both want to be.

author's note. this is just pure choso brainrot because i could not get that fanart out of my head so ofc i had to write something about it. (choso girlies, i'm borrowing your man for a while, thank you)

please do not steal, modify or translate my work.

[seosracha]

⸻ SAINT MATTHEW'S ACADEMY

─"do you know about all the filth that goes on in here?"

SYNOPSIS ⸻ being a smart kid comes with a lot of advantages; one of them being a full scholarship to one of the best schools in the country. one of the best school's that's filled to the brim with disgustingly rich teenagers. Heeseung knows you're not like them, and he also knows that'll be easy to take advantage of.

PAIRING ⸻ toxic!heeseung x innocentfem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, private school au, smut, fluff, angst (idek tbh)

TAGS ⸻ characters are all 18 or older, toxic relationships, misogyny, alcohol abuse, smoking, marijuana/cannabis mention, partying, underage drinking, foul language, cheating (not really though) power imbalance, abuse (punches are getting thrown..) , kinda love triangle?? , making out, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), virginity loss, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, tell me if i missed something!

WORDCOUNT ⸻ 21k

PART TWO

everything here is FICTIONAL, it is not real. this was created for entertainment purposes only. MINORS DNI.

“No Eunseok, I don’t want to go anywhere!” you grit your teeth, backing away from your older brother. 

He sighed, and with his hand pulled your wrist towards the doorway. You were acting like a brat, and he had absolutely no interest in fighting with you right now. From your standpoint, you had every reason to be behaving this way. 

“There are thousands- no, millions of people your age who would die for an opportunity like this, and you're going to act like a child? Grow up, Y/n” he let out a steady breath as an attempt to calm himself down. 

In some way, you put yourself in this situation. Flawless scores on all your exams, juggling multiple extracurriculars and excelling at every single one of them, participating in every Model UN you could get your hands on, making a name for yourself- being somebody. It all led to you being noticed by prestigious schools, who practically begged to host you, even though deep down, you were a nobody. 

Your parents weren't snobby rich people, who thrived off of other people's ideas and failure. They weren't greedy either, working normal 9 to 5 jobs. 

When you were merely 12 years old they had left to go work at your uncle's company overseas, hoping that it’ll allow them to make enough money to pay for your brother’s med school tuition and potentially have the money to fund a future clinic of his. They promised to come back as soon as Eunseok finished school and started a stable job. But they never did. 

Eunseok, who was 7 years older than you, was always the favorite child. No matter how well you did or how bad he did, Eunseok was number one in your parents' hearts. There was never a family reunion where Eunseok’s medical career as a surgeon wasn't brought up- and when it did end up getting shoved into the conversation, it didn't stop until all the lights turned off. 

And of course, you felt bad for your brother. He had to balance taking care of you and being a surgeon for fucks sake, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel lonely most of the time. You had a free hand when it came to inviting friends over, but unfortunately their strict parents and every other circumstance never allowed them to stay longer than one night. Your only family,  your older brother who you looked up to was just never there, and you just sank deeper into your loneliness whenever he called and apologized for a sudden surgery that came up. 

But still, Eunseok, was just perfect, you had no choice but to try and keep up with him. 

So when the letter from Saint Matthew’s Academy came in the mail, offering you a spot in their school, with the tuition fully paid for by them, you didn't even think twice. 

And now you regret that, badly. 

St. Matthews Academy was a private school next to the town you grew up in. It was also an exceptionally expensive place, with tuition fees racking up to about $80.000 per year. Going there would be a privilege to most people your age, but the students there saw it as a regular school without anything special to offer them. Even if they weren't going to inherit their parents’ company's, they were truly set up for the rest of their lives anyways. 

You hadn't really done any research on the school before accepting their offer, only aware of their students academic achievements and high level of education. The more you found out, the more the idea of being a student terrified you. 

You would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the successful people who had a chairman position prescribed before birth. 

“It’ll be okay, do you think if I let the fear get to me, I’d be a SNU alumni now?” Eunseok asked, focused on the road as he drove you right into the gates of your own, personal hell. 

“We get it, you finished SNU and are a surgeon now, blah blah blah” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“I’m just trying to help you. I doubt those kids are going to be that bad. They have a reputation to upkeep anyways, can’t be caught bullying” he tried to calm you down, but everytime he opened his mouth, he just made it worse. 

“Eunseok, you’re making it worse” you murmured, tucking at the skin of your thumb. He placed his hand on yours, preventing you from continuing with your bad habits “That’s exactly why I’m scared. These kids are disgustingly rich, and people like us-  well we're like ants compared to them. They have an image to polish, and I have none of that” you continued, and he frowned lightly, his heart breaking at your, his little sisters, words. 

“Do you seriously think you got to be in this position cause you’re a nobody? I don’t think regular and undeserving people have been given a full scholarship to a school like Saint Matthew’s. Nobody has been given a scholarship from them really” Eunseok said, making you feel slightly more confident “I can turn around, you can withdraw, but I think you’ll regret that” he said, with a light smile which you reciprocated. 

Maybe you should have told him to turn around back then, maybe you should've denied the offer or thrown it away the moment you saw the letter with that heinous stamp. 

_____ 

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about what your first day was going to be like. Some dreams portrayed you as the future top 3 of the school, and some seemed to make you out to be the outcast loser who can’t seem to find anyone who’d befriend her. 

It was nearly impossible to get those images out of your head. You thought about lying about your background, falsifying stories about your parents who own giant multi-utility corporations that supply petrol and energy to half the country, but that was pointless. 

You could either be made fun of for lying or made fun of for being a ‘poor nobody’. None of them seemed right, but one didn't lead to being incredibly embarrassed for the rest of highschool. 

The building did not have any correlation with the one that you imagined, the one that you constantly dreamed about. It looked nothing like the modern, smart, couple story construction that clouded your mind beyond arrival, and because of their strict laws, pictures and videos of both the inside and outside were strictly prohibited. 

So all you had left was to make up your own assumptions, and the old fashioned, palace looking property was definitely not one of them. You assumed that the millions of dollars in tuition that flow into the headmaster's account every year could at least allow him to renovate the building. 

But it seemed as if the gray, dirty, moss covered outer walls had a special meaning you didn't quite understand. 

You definitely weren't a sucker for historical architecture, and this building looked more like a nightmare than a dream to you. 

At the front office, the lady had confiscated your phone, with a smile explaining why they do it, and asking you to pick it up after classes are over. She had a creepy aura surrounding her, and you begged for her small introduction to finish as soon as possible. 

“I’ll let Wonyoung, your class president, give you a tour around our school. She should be here in a moment, dear” she smiled eagerly at you, and you found it hard to reciprocate her seemingly innocent expression. 

You never expected Wonyoung to be an actual angel, her figure already shining brightly as she strides towards you. You wondered how it was possible for someone to make a school uniform look this good. Her hair was long and silky, and her bangs just looked fake with how fresh and bouncy they were. 

You smoothed down your uniform and fixed up your hair as she got closer to you and the eerie lady next to you. 

“You're the new student, right?” she waved at you, and shot you with a pretty smile. 

You had no idea how to behave, acknowledging that she probably came from a wealthy family that practically owns the country. 

But Wonyoung was a little different. Her parents didn't own any big corporations or participate in any other money making schemes. Both her mom and dad met on the set for a movie that later led them to become the highest paid actors in the industry. It was pretty comical to say she was different as she still was considered a product of nepotism in the modeling world that she was so active in. She hadn't even finished highschool, but had already walked for brands like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Maison Margiela and more. Maybe it was her pretty face or just her parents' wild connections. 

“Mind if I give you a small tour? It can get complicated around here” she asked, her tone so delicate. 

If anything you should be thanking her for sparing you with a little bit of time, thanking her for even allowing someone like you to be in the presence of someone like her. 

You nodded your head not able to let a single word out, afraid to embarrass yourself. With a smile Wonyoung locked her arm with yours, and kept you close by her side as she showed you around the place. 

“This is the cafeteria, but I wouldn't recommend you going there, the food is awful” she said, and you laughed lightly at her expression. 

Was it awful cause it wasn't a three course meal with caviar, steak and truffles for dessert or was it actually not that good. You really did not fit in here and you haven't met anyone else.

“Well I see that guy is enjoying it” you commented, noticing a tall, skinny boy laughing with his friend as he consumed something you couldn't quite recognize. 

Wonyoung laughed, in the most elegant way possible, and her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink “That’s Park Sunghoon, my boyfriend. He will eat anything, seriously” she stated and you nodded with a chuckle. 

Park Sunghoon was son to Park Jiwon, the CEO of ParkJin Electronics. His mother had worked hard all her life to build up her own empire, resulting in him being raised mainly by nannies and his cousins. Still, he was spoiled and cocky, his family allegedly had royal roots, and even though he didn't know himself, he boasted about it every single occasion he got. He didn't seem to care much about studying, since he was the only child his mother ever had, he was next in line to inherit her electronic empire. Yet something in him felt the desire to prove to everyone that no matter what, he deserved to take over.  

He also surrounded himself with people of the same social status and net worth as him, so that’s probably why he treated Wonyoung so differently, even though she was his literal girlfriend. Wonyoung was rich, but she could never compare to the millions his mother earned yearly. 

Yet he was so good at pretending and gaslighting the girl into believing she's the bad person for lashing out on him after he called her ‘the type of person who polishes shoes for people like him’. He was just joking around, right? But the poor girl took it because the good moments overshadowed the absolute idiot Park Sunghoon was capable of being. 

“And next to him? Who’s that” you asked, politely pointing towards the blond boy next to him who’s jawline looked like it was shaped by Micheal Angelo himself. 

“That’s Jongseong, but we just call him Jay,” Wonyoung answered, looking at you with a pretty smile. Did everything she does have to be so annoyingly beautiful and perfect? 

Park Jay was born in Seattle, so he was the American heartthrob that flexed his posh English skills in order to pull girls he had no interest in having serious relationships with. His dad owned the biggest hospital in the country, and on top of that had plastic surgery salons opened in practically every city. His parents had divorced when his dad's businesses started to gain popularity and bring in more money. His father assumed that his wife no longer appealed to him, and she would just be like a parasite- living off of his success. And since Jay had been harshly raised by his rough father, he shared the same opinion about his mother. Not having a motherly figure present in his life, surrounding himself with his fathers girlfriends who were only 10 years older than him, he became a Andrew Tate worshiping incel who’s main focus was making money and convincing everyone to join his self-betterment program. 

“He’s nice, but I think his political and social views are a little far from the ones that girls like us have” she attempted to explain, and pretty quickly you understood he’s a misogynist. 

“I see, is your boyfriend the same?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as you can, since you didn't quite know where Wonyoung wouldl draw the line. 

“No, at least I’d hope he isn't” she chuckled lightly, and slowly tugged you towards another large hall in the school “He was raised by women, his dad passed away when he was around 3, so I guess he has at least some respect for us” she added, and you nodded in understanding. 

“This school is really freaking big, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find my way around here” you commented and she chuckled at your use of words. 

“You can say fucking, I really don’t mind” Wonyoung looked at you, and you breathed out a steady breath “I don’t want you to think of us as some posh, elegant and royal like teenagers who use a fork and knife every time they eat. I genuinely think most of us are pretty normal considering our backgrounds” she explained, and you had to stifle a laugh. 

Although Wonyoung seemed like an incredibly nice and sweet girl, she truly had no idea how privileged she was. Truly, her only worry was you not thinking she’s a snobby rich kid. And that applied to all of them, you just didn't see yourself empathizing with these people, seeing how you were raised in two completely different worlds. 

“It’s my first time talking to people like you, don't have much experience” you smiled and raised your hands in guilt. 

She laughed at your action, and asked “What do you mean, what do your parents do then?” 

You didn't want to answer that question, you didn't even want anyone to ask it in the first place. But you had to answer honestly. 

“Both of my parents live overseas, but they're no one special. My dad is a construction worker and my mom has a simple office job” you said, and she didn't seem to laugh or find your parents’ profession amusing in any way “I live with my brother, he’s a surgeon” you added, and she seemed to light up at the mention. 

“I want to be a surgeon too!” she beamed and you smiled as she ignored and didn't care about the fact that you weren't the future heiress of a major conglomerate “I need to speak to your brother one day, maybe he’ll give me some advice” she added and with a smile you assured her you’ll set up a meeting for the two of them one day. 

She pulled you through a dark, narrow, dimly lit hallway to a giant room with a high ceiling where most of the students were currently spending their time. 

“This is the common room” she said, as the two of you stood in the entryway. 

Laughter ringed in your ears as you attempted to examine every student present in the area. 

“Let me introduce you to Niki!” she beamed and pulled your wrist towards the unknown boy. 

Niki was the son of the owners of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country. Even though he had no interest in taking over the business, his younger sister wasn't seen as competent enough to take over, so he was forced to be the next CEO. His parents and Jay’s father were close friends, planning on merging the two companies by arranging a marriage between Jay’s younger sister and Niki. His true passion was dance, he hated everything that had to do with medication, but he knew there was no chance he’d ever get to pursue his passion for a living. 

“Niki!” she called to the boy, and he turned around, swiftly taking off his headphones. 

“Not gonna go shop for makeup with you today, forget it” he claimed, not even noticing you standing right next to her. 

“Oh please, as if I’d want to go with you” she sneered and he chuckled under his breath. “I wanted to introduce you to Y/n, she’s new here!” she continued, and he took a judging look at you. 

Or at least it felt as if he was judging you, scanning you up and down as if you weren't wearing the same exact uniform as him. But quickly he shot you with a small smile, and stuck his hand out for you to shake. You applied and as nicely as you could, returned the expression. 

“You’ll regret coming here, Y/n” he warned with a laugh, and you chuckled, but deep down felt like maybe he wasn't joking. 

“Stop scaring her” Wonyoung said sternly, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow “I like it here, don’t listen to him Y/nnie” 

“Maybe because you're a fucking nerd who’s a teachers pet?” he asked sarcastically, and Wonyoung just rolled her eyes playfully. 

You stood there listening to their bickering, already getting a weird feeling that you didn't really belong here, these people were not the usual kind you surround yourself with. 

“What brings you here?” he asked, which turned your attention back to the two people in front of you. 

“I got an invitation, full ride scholarship and all” you explained and his eyes widened. 

“You're a smart girl, aren't you?” he asked, and you chuckled lightly. 

“You could say that, I guess” you said, and he looked towards Wonyoung. 

“I guess you’ll finally have a smarty pants friend to talk to about the theory of relativity, or whatever you call it” he cooed, and she flipped him off. 

“Jake used to be my nerdy bestie, well until he started hanging out with Jay and attending his dumbass courses” she laughed looking towards you, and he did the same nodding his head. 

“Let’s be honest, ever since they created their little frat circle with Heeseung and Sunghoon, they suffered insane brain damage. But the courses were also bad enough” Niki inquired, and she laughed, agreeing with him. 

Jake’s parents were real estate giants, owning at least half of the properties in the city. He had been raised with the thought of taking over his parents’ business, so he was actually the only one in his friend circle that studied and strived to achieve something. His mother or father would never let him take over if he had nothing in his head. Jake actually wanted to become a real estate agent, because after seeing his parents succeed, he wanted to be just like them. 

“What exactly are these courses about?” you asked, and Niki quickly opened his phone to show you the website Jay and his computer geek friend Jungwon set up. 

You didn't even bother asking the boy how he managed to sneak a phone in, assuming the one lying in the basket at the front desk, was probably one of his many devices. 

“He tries to convince men that they need to unleash their inner sigma to fully embrace their manliness or something like that” he explained as you grabbed his phone to look through the website. 

It looked like a failed IT project they had to do in class, and honestly you didn't understand why anyone would trust him enough to receive life advice. 

“I can't believe that people actually listen to his advice” you commented, handing back Niki his phone. 

“That’s not even the worst of it, he genuinely thinks that if men were to become pregnant, they would give birth in two weeks since they’re stronger, something along those lines” Wonyoung added, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing. 

Maybe you were getting along with them, but the eerie atmosphere around you and the blank stares you received from other students grounded you. 

“Yo new girl, wanna come to a party tonight?” Niki turned towards you with a questioning expression. 

You have been studying your whole life, cramming information until late hours of the night, which resulted in you having to give up your social life or anything of that sort. You had friends, but never the time to go out with them. So this would be your first party ever, and you had no idea how to behave. 

“Sure,” you replied, not giving it any more thought. If you started overthinking it, you’d probably deny the request. 

“Put in your number, I’ll send you the address” he gave you his phone once again, and you swiftly typed in your digits, saving your contact under ‘Song Y/n’. 

“Show me your schedule, I’ll walk you to your next class” Wonyoung turned to you, and you dug up the crumbled piece of paper you received at the front office. 

_______

Niki had eventually texted you the address, offering a ride along with it, unless you already had one. You gladly accepted his offer, although his kindness seemed weird and suspicious to you. 

Maybe you just weren't used to people being nice to you simply out of human decency and without any ulterior motives, but someone as high up and rich as Niki or Wonyoung should not be bothered by someone like you. They definitely shouldn't be offering you rides in their expensive sports cars. 

“Oh c’mon Wony, we gotta give our transfer the princess treatment” he said, shooing her away from the passenger seat with his hand. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, but agreed to give up her front seat, which you tried to convince her to take back for a little over a minute. 

“No Y/nnie, you're probably going to meet our little devil tonight, you need as much peace as you can get before that” she assured, and you just shook your head at her reluctance. 

“And who exactly are you talking about?” you asked, turning around to once again face Wonyoung who already got comfortable in the back seat.

“I’ll ask you that question tomorrow morning, it’s more fun that we keep it a secret for now” she giggled childishly, and Niki nodded his head approvingly at her idea. 

You sighed sarcastically, and tried to remember any person they didn't go into full detail about just a couple of hours ago. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, all of them kept getting mixed up in your head as you had no real idea as to what the three looked like. You passed by the cafeteria with Wonyoung earlier, where you didn’t quite register what Jay and Sunghoon looked like. Maybe it’s someone completely different, or someone affiliated with the three guys you had a fair amount of information about. 

“You drink, don’t you?” Niki asked, turning his head to face you for just a mere second, before focusing his eyes back on the road. 

“Not really” you answered unbothered. 

Drinking was nothing to be proud about anyways, and assuming Niki doesn't want to lose his recently acquired drivers license, he probably wasn't going to do it either. 

“Same here. Me and Wony don’t drink” he smiled “But the rest of them, their a different kind of fucked up. Especially your precious, sweet, innocent boyfriend, Wonyoung” he added, and looked at the girl through his rear view mirror. 

She screwed her face jokingly “Sunghoon doesn't drink that much, at least now that he’s with me” she defended, and he scoffed. 

“And you’re stupid for thinking he’s not getting shit faced every weekend with his demonic cult of a friend group” he commented, and she huffed in annoyance crossing her arms. 

“Y/nnie, you know what Hoon looks like, right?” she turned her attention to you. 

You shook your head, causing her to pull out her phone in order to present you with pictures of her beloved boyfriend. 

He was smoking fucking hot, but his expression and lack of emotion on every picture made you think that maybe Niki was right, he truly looked like he didn't give a single fuck about the girl. Well it seems to be working out for them so far, so who are you to butt in. 

“Keep an eye on him, I need to prove that my boyfriend is not the alcoholic and druggie you-” she pointed her finger at Niki “make him out to be” 

“No problem” you smiled and she excitedly held your hand. 

“Just when you do catch him chugging down shot glasses like a pig, don't tell her cause she won't believe you anyways” he murmured, but the both of you heard him anyways. 

You turned to Wonyoung and rolled your eyes playfully which she gave you a hushed giggle at, agreeing with whatever you were thinking about. 

The road felt like it had been going on forever, you swore you already saw the same street signs and lanterns a couple minutes back. It felt like Niki had been going in circles, but those thoughts were most likely caused by your absence in this area of town. 

After what felt like an eternity in Niki’s uncomfortable low-floor car, that was impossible to get comfortable in, he had finally pulled over into a gravel filled space. In the distance a modern house was illuminated by colorful lights, and the music could be quietly heard from the place you were standing in. 

The interior of the place was suffocating you, the music giving you a headache, the smell of cigarettes, weed, alcohol and sweat seeping into your skin, as you and Wonyoung pushed through the crowd. Wonyoung didn't seem to be affected as she pushed through the bodies in order to find her boyfriend who she must have missed terribly for the past five hours. 

“Sunghoonnie!” she beamed, and his body instantly turned to the sound of her squeaky voice. 

He was hard to read, you didn't exactly know if he was excited to see her or praying for her to leave him and his friends alone. He held a glass with a brownish liquid in his hand, and you knew for a fact Wonyoung was trying to ignore it or pretend it wasn't what everyone else knew it was. 

Sunghoon was obviously drinking whiskey. 

Even they're choice of alcohol was so different from what you knew back in your public school. Those kids could barely afford the cheapest liquor, and here you were witnessing Sunghoon and his friends downing bottles worth more than the pocket money your brother gave you every month. 

“Oh great, two Wonyoung’s. Can’t women just stick to painting their nails and doing their makeup? This is not the place for you” Jay commented as he finally noticed the two of you. 

“Did your daddy teach you that? I wasn't talking to you, dickhead” the girl next to you answered with a sarcastic pout to her face. 

“I’m Jake” the brown haired boy stuck his hand out “You're new, right?” 

Wonyoung had already let you go to entertain her boyfriend who obviously was not having it. Even as she was eating his face, he wasn't half as passionate about it as she was. 

“Yeah” you took his hand “Y/n” 

He had a devilish grin as he and the blond boy exchanged glances. 

“So where are you coming from?” Jake asked, but his eyes weren't even focused on your face, instead staring right into your partially exposed chest. 

You sighed, and leaned against the wall “Doesn't matter” maybe you had a terrible judgment of character, but you knew that admitting to coming from a public, low income school would end you right then and there. 

“You’re right, it doesn't” he smirked, hoping that you had understood his intentions by now, “Want a drink?” he asked, turning around to unveil a couple glasses and a bottle of Dalmore whiskey. 

“I don't really drink” you explained, trying to keep up with your nonchalant facade that you prayed would spare you some embarrassment tonight. 

It felt stressful to be around them, their demeanor intimidating. 

“Oh c’mon, one little glass never hurt anyone” Jay uttered, already pouring a glass that he was shoving into your hand a couple seconds later. 

He looked incredibly hot doing so, his slicked back blond hair and white button down almost making you forget he’s a mentally unstable and misogynistic idiot. 

Did they all have to be so irresistibly hot? Was being rich not enough? 

“Drink it, there’s a reward afterwards” he added, as his attempts to place the glass in your hand turned out to be successful. 

“Only if you’re a good girl” Jake added, and Jay with a devilish smile hit his shoulder. 

You examined the glass, remembering all the stories of boys spiking drinks with drugs that Eunseok told you about, but all that seemed so unimportant right now. 

You promised yourself to never go against what your mind told you, but that was broken the minute you downed the glass, the unfamiliar, burning flavor coating your throat. 

“Atta girl” Jake praised, as he took the glass from your hand.

“Women are so easy, it’s crazy” Jay whispered, assuring you wouldn't hear his words “Let me pour you another one” he said, his voice a little louder this time. 

You shook your head, but he seemed to ignore that all together, grabbing the cup and filling it to the brim once again. 

“Drink up” Jake slurred, and focused his eyes onto the way your throat looked while you swallowed the liquid. 

They were disgusting. The way they objectified you, the way they looked at you like you were going to let them hit without any problems. 

The boys you knew would make jokes, but they’d never act on it like Jay and Jake did. 

You slammed the glass on the table where it was previously laid, and without a word turned away from the two men who were clearly confused about your sudden departure. 

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Jake called, and with a forced smile you mouthed a ‘Maybe’. 

“She still doesn't know about all the filth that goes on in here, eh?” Jay chuckled devilishly, and Jake smirked, pouring himself a drink in the cup you left behind. 

You had already thought that Wonyoung and Niki were completely different from the people you used to surround yourself with, but after meeting Jake and Jay, you cursed yourself for even thinking that. You had given up your social life, so meeting new people regularly was never something that you did, but you never met someone so deranged. Were the girls at this school all so easy and compliant to their orders? You just wondered where their ego came from. 

Squeezing through all the damp bodies was definitely a challenge, but finding a quiet and empty room surely made it worth it. 

The room was practically empty, you assumed something that was supposed to resemble a guest bedroom, but you doubted any guest would wanna sleep here. A single bed in the middle of the large room was not enough. 

You closed the door behind you with a quiet squeak, and threw yourself on the bed, your eyes facing the ceiling. 

Amongst the weird smell that surrounded the room a voice called you “You're the new girl, aren't you?” 

You didn't notice the open balcony door upon entering. 

Your body automatically turned to face the voice, a handsome and presumably tall boy sat on one of the plastic chairs. Smoke circled around him as he looked at you with heavy eyelids, taking another hit from the joint between his fingers. 

You leaned your head on the palm of your hand “How do you know?” 

“News spreads fast around here. You don’t know, do you?” he gave you a childish smile, and with a nod to his head he without a word offered you to smoke with him, which you declined. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him, his dark eyes bringing discomfort to your body. 

“Why should I tell you, transfer?” he laughed, and you stiffened up at his answer. “It’s Heeseung” he said after a moment, noticing that you were not enjoying his jokes. 

Lee Heeseung was the youngest son of Lee Guwon and Kim Shinhye, the founders and owners of the largest hotel line in the country. They just recently went international, opening yet another hotel-restaurant in the heart of Singapore. His older sister, Lee Rina, had no interest in the company, firmly convinced that it's a greedy industry. She moved to Norway to study and just never came back. But his older brother, Lee Haejun, was different. He was stuck on the idea of becoming the next CEO. After both him and Heeseung were old enough to understand what benefits came with being a leader of a major hotel line, they stopped treating each other like brothers, instead focusing on the rivalry that was brewing. They wanted so badly to prove to their father who's more competent, who deserves it more, that at one point it became too much. 

Heeseung at one point no longer wanted any of it. He just wanted his brother back. Haejun just never was the same brother Heeseung learned to love. He didn't care. Heeseung felt like he lost both of his siblings although they weren't actually gone. 

“I don’t think they mentioned you” you murmured, trying to recall the conversations you had with Wonyoung and Niki. 

“Wonyoung and Niki? Probably because they don't like me” he laughed, and put out his blunt on the tiles of the balcony, throwing what was left into a jar filled with water. 

“They like everyone, I think it’s a ‘you’ problem” you assumed, and he scoffed. 

His body sluggishly stood up from the chair, as he tried to not fall over the balcony “Both of them are fake as fuck, and I don’t think you’re one to judge” 

You sighed “You don’t know them” 

“I know them better than you, transfer” he chuckled, “They always cuddle up to new students, just like Wonyoung did to Jake, and whenever they go slightly out of line, they drop them” he explained, and you foolishly didn't believe his words, choosing to stand with your new friends who you in reality, knew nothing about. 

“I don’t know, I don't think the Jake that I just met, and got forced to drink by, is a good example” you murmured, playing with your hair, avoiding eye contact with the boy. 

He had this dark aura surrounding him, his hooded eyes just adding into his image, making him look much more scary. 

He slowly moved towards you, accompanying you on the silk covered bed. That’s when you could truly analyze his face; bloodshot, brown eyes, a curve to his lips, his nose slightly pointed and eyebrows straight. His skin was glistening, a soft tan to it. He looked at you so intensely, and you couldn't quite reciprocate, scared of his intimidating presence. 

“Jake was always like this, they just didn't know how to handle him” he smiled, his hand inching closer to where your legs lied “They love saying that Jay ruined him, but he didn't even have to do that” 

“What do you mean by having to do that? Why would he have to?” you asked, as your body froze, not allowing you to move further away from him. 

He didn't stop attempting to close the gap between the two of you “You know what I mean” he smirked “This isn't the place you think it is, pretty girl. We can't have a goody two shoes prancing around” his smile was straight, as his hand moved to sooth your lower thigh. 

You never were this close to a boy before. 

“I still don't get it” you said, your voice trembling as he moved further up. 

“You don't need to, you’ll see for yourself. Soon, don't worry” he cooed, and you could feel his sinister words burn through your skin. 

“You like this? Tell me” he asked, his grip on your thigh tightened, and you felt words get stuck in your throat. 

“ I don’t know you, Heeseung” you answered out of breath. 

He liked the way his name slipped from your lips, your tone mellow and soothing. He could definitely get used to it. 

“You don’t need to know everyone you want to have a little fun with” his eyes twinkled slightly, as he spoke softly, trying to distract you from his touch moving to places you  probably wouldn't like him being in. 

“Do you do this to every girl you just meet?” you piqued, and he chuckled, finally taking out his hand from under your dress in order to move a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Only the ones I find pretty” he answered. 

Heeseung was such a lightweight, he couldn't stop his smile and laughter as he played with you, knowing you could pretend, but not resist him. He wanted to undress you right there and then, behind an unlocked door, which he’d hoped some disgusting pervert like Jake would open, they could perhaps have you together, share your body. But he was smarter than that. He couldn't alienate you so early on. 

“Maybe another time” you murmured, giving up your previous position to stand up from the bed. 

He didn't let you, standing up with you, blocking you from walking to the door. He stumbled a little bit, but managed to hold you down. 

“You wanted to get to know me, what happened to that?” he whispered. 

“I never said that” you replied, and attempted once again to leave the room. 

No one has ever had this effect on you. You didn't truly want to leave, not only his firm stance was keeping you away from that door. 

You had boyfriends, but all of them were too scared to even hold your hand in public, not to mention kiss you. So you were aware of these things, but not familiar with them. 

“Why do you have to be so tough? I just want to make you feel good? What’s the crime in that?” he cooed, and brought his hand up to caress your cheek. 

“I always wanted it to be special, not some one night stand” you voiced, and he hummed. 

It felt so weird and embarrassing to talk to him like this. You didn't know him. You also couldn't say no, cause some part of you wanted it too. 

Maybe it’s because you wanted to fit in, maybe because you didn't want to be any different from the people that went to this school. But you’d always be different- as long as your parents weren't owners of a giant conglomerate or business, you’d always be different. 

“My sweet girl is a virgin? That’s okay, don’t be embarrassed” he cooed, and squeezed your hand tightly. 

You never knew how hard it is to be sober and talk to a high person. He just didn't fully comprehend the environment that surrounded him, not a single ounce of fear or embarrassment in his veins, just nothingness. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked with a soft voice.

Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how his slurred words sounded and how they affected you. 

You nodded, and he grabbed your jaw, pulling you into his embrace. Nothing could have prepared you for his wet, plump lips that molded perfectly into yours. You felt so good against him, and he couldn't find himself pulling away, the bulge in his pants growing as you fingers slightly brushed along the longer strands of hair on the back of his head. 

It was all so new to you. Maybe it was the alcohol that Jake and Jay forced down your throat, or maybe you just couldn't help but naturally feel attracted to Heeseung. It’s been barely 24 hours, and you’ve broken all the promises you made to yourself. 

While you were overthinking, Heeseung wondered just how long until he gets to fuck your pretty, virgin hole.  

“Mmm, it wasn't that hard, was it?” he smiled as he was forced to pull away out of lack of air, his eyes practically closing on him. 

You avoided his gaze, a small smile on your swollen lips. He laughed softly, and grabbed your hand in his. 

“I just want to help you. You’re a big girl, you should know how the world works” he cooed, dumbing you down. But you accepted it. Every word of his you took in and analyzed. Maybe he was right. 

He was this big, important rich guy from an important family, and you were just living in his world. You were nothing like him, his worries surrounded taking over the company or not, while you had to wonder if you had the money to go out with your friend on the weekend. You could try, but you’ll never be the same. 

And Heeseung knew that. He knew how much power he had over you simply because his bank account was decorated by nothing less than quadruple digits. 

“I don’t think you should be hanging out with Wonyoung and Niki. They're fake, you know?” he whispered, and focused his eyes on you “Let me be the one you come to when you need help, okay?” 

You nodded, and he just hummed in approval, liking the way you agreed with anything he said. 

You knew he was treating you like a child, babying you and bossing you around like he even had any right to do so, but you didn't find yourself stopping him either. 

To you he spoke with such delicacy, and he paid attention to you in a way no one ever has. Heeseung was different from anyone you encountered, and that’s exactly what pulled you in, forcing you to uncover more about him. 

But he just liked how you gave into his words way easier than he thought you would. He never knew it would be this easy to manipulate you. Heeseung never expected you to so naively believe that Wonyoung and Niki were the ones who were going to do you wrong, that they were the ones to cuddle up to new students in order to drop them just moments later. He had you where he wanted you and it didn't even take him a full hour. 

______

“You didn’t text me last night, did you get home alright?” Wonyoung asked, settling down next to you in the study hall. 

You ignored her gaze, her shuffling and moving, making an annoyed groan escape from your lips. 

“Yeah,” you replied swiftly, turning your attention back to the worksheet in front of you. 

Heeseung’s words had stuck with you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of Niki and Wonyoung, one of the nicest, most welcoming people you have ever met, being bullies. But perhaps that was the reason for their warm introduction. They wanted you to trust them. 

Niki, noticing that Wonyoung had finally joined you in the study hall, turned around in his chair, taking out one of his airpods. 

“Did you find who we were talking about in the car? A special someone told me they saw you together last night” Niki smiled widely like an idiot, and Wonyoung giggled, awaiting your answer. 

You scoffed “The so-called devil” and murmured “Heeseung, right? He was very nice, I don’t get it” 

They laughed, and you felt something twist inside of you at the sound of their forced posh, and elegant laughter. 

“That’s the point. He’s nice at first, to get you to like him, trust him, and then he strikes” Niki told, and to you it sounded like he was describing his little mutual admiration circle with Wonyoung. 

“I don’t know, honestly. He seemed like a good person” you inquired quietly, trying to focus on the work you had to do. 

“Let me guess, he asked for consent, or said he ‘just wants to help you’, and you believed he’s a respectful guy? Y/n don’t be so naive” Wonyoung said sternly, and you scoffed, remembering how her boyfriend’s best friends treated you. Sunghoon was probably no different, so who was she to judge? 

“You're dating Sunghoon, Wonyoung. Mind you, he’s one of the all so bad Heeseung’s friends” 

Niki and Wonyoung looked at each other confused, wondering why you were suddenly being so cold and distant. 

“He wasn’t like that always,” she said, and you looked at her questioning. 

“You think people can change so drastically, just like that? He always had it in him, he just found the right people to unleash it with, that’s all” you answered, and she felt her body shift slightly. 

Sunghoon transferred to Saint Matthews in his sophomore year, after studying abroad in an international school in Singapore. No one could really know if Sunghoon was any different before he joined, because he almost immediately hit it off with Heeseung, and his friend group. 

“You don’t know what you're talking about” Niki said, with an annoyed look on his face. 

“Oh kill me then. All I know is the shitty little gig you’re playing on me. I know what you guys do to new students- shape them to be your perfect little servant, and then drop them when it stops being amusing to you. Just like you did to Jake. So stop trying to blame everything on Heeseung when you know damn well he's not a bad person” you replied frustrated, collecting all your things, and standing up to leave the space. 

Niki and Wonyoung were stunned at your words, following you until you disappeared out the door. 

They realized you truly had met Heeseung, and that there was no turning back now. 

Just like any girl, he had you tied to his leash, and they were powerless. 

____

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I didn’t expect her to fold so easily” Heeseung laughed, as he downed another shot of tequila Jay stole from his dads alcohol cabinet. His father owned so many bottles he probably wouldn’t notice one of them went missing. 

Just like he didn’t notice his son's worsening alcoholic tendencies. 

“No trust me, she didn’t even fight back that much when we offered her whiskey” Jake sneered, and Jay grinned evilly. 

Jay was the first one to notice you. He caught a glimpse of you as you stood so shyly in the cafeterias entryway, Wonyoung happily talking to you, as you looked around the place. He didn’t recognize your face.  

You were pretty to him. Your face gleaned with innocence, and he could smell the way you were so intimidated by the people and sinister atmosphere of the school. He couldn’t even bother listening to whatever Sunghoon was going on about next to his ear, focused on only you. He knew exactly what happened to sweet girls like you, and he couldn’t wait for it. 

And maybe at one point in time he could have you too. His big hands would slowly take off your shirt, his fingers slipping down under your jeans, pressing against your pulsing core. You’d tell him to stop, and he’d only laugh in your ear, unbuckling his belt. 

“Wonyoung said she flipped off on them today when they mentioned you” Sunghoon tuned to Heeseung, pouring himself another shot “Niki said it’s like this with every girl, and she totally went bonkers on them or some shit” he laughed before his face twisted as the burning liquid slid down his throat. 

“That’s so pathetic. She doesn’t even know him” Jake chuckled, and leaned back in his seat, his back melting into the soft cushion. 

“That’s like the whole point, she isn’t supposed to know,” Heeseung noted, and they nodded slightly. “And I don’t think that’s more pathetic than Wonyoung leeching onto Sunghoon even though he doesn’t even hide the fact he doesn’t like her in the slightest” 

Jay scoffed sarcastically “Defending her so quickly, sure” he hummed, and Heeseung rolled his eyes. 

“My mom got her a campaign with our company, and now she thinks we’re gonna get married. It’s so annoying” Sunghoon explained, and they laughed. 

“Then just breakup with her. She needs you, but you don’t need her, dude” Jake commented, and Sunghoon shook his head lively. 

“She’s nice to have around. And it’s not like I don’t like her at all, she just gets on my nerves” he explained. 

“When my mom pissed off my dad, she got divorce papers handed to her, and kicked out the door. Women are supposed to serve men, not be an obstacle. All she is, is an obstacle. You’re taking over your mom’s company, you can’t let her get in the way” Jay turned to Sunghoon, who just pretended to listen to his nonsense. 

Maybe Jay was one of his best friends, but he couldn’t bear listening to his bullshit. He grew up around women- a single mother, his nannies who were strictly women (since his mother didn’t trust men around her only child), and cousins who were practically only girls. He knew women could achieve things alone, his mother being his best example. 

“So, what is your plan?” Jake averted his gaze to Heeseung, who didn’t seem to be amused by the conversation surrounding you and Wonyoung. 

“Was there ever a plan? She doesn’t even put up a fight, and already blew up on her new friends. This won’t be hard” he answered, and Jake nodded, satisfied with Heeseung’s answer. 

“I think you guys are wasting your time, honestly” Sunghoon commented. 

Jay looked at him annoyed “You and your feminist bullshit again” he murmured, and didn’t even bother pouring the substance into his shot glass, drinking straight from the bottle. 

“Jesus Christ, Jay. Just cause I have the tiniest percentage of respect for women, doesn’t mean I’m some fucking feminist. I’m not stopping you from seducing that girl, I just think it’s a waste of time. If you want pussy so bad, just find yourself a hook up, it’s not that hard” he answered, and Jay seemed to accept his answer, too tired to start another fight about this with his friend. 

“We’re only 19, Sunghoon. It won't hurt to have some fun while we can” Jake piqued, and with a swift movement of his hand, grabbed the bottle from the floor, tilting it to pour the rest of liquid into his mouth. 

“I just think that's kind of unappreciative” he murmured, and all of them turned to him. Jay rolled his eyes and with a sigh ushered Sunghoon to continue “A shit load of kids our age don't get to have half the opportunities we do, so if I were you I wouldn't fuck around so much, but actually put in the work to maybe prove that we aren't fucking imbeciles who just sit around and get chauffeured all day” he explained, and they all looked at him with a confused gaze. 

“Says the one who is failing practically all his classes. And what does any of that have to do with Y/n? What do you like her or something? You can hit if you want, it’s an open game” Jay laughed, and Sunghoon sighed.

But he wasn't annoyed, just incredibly frustrated that none of his friends understood what he was trying to convey to them. 

He didn't study, at least not much, and even though he was always aware of the fact that he will most definitely take over his mothers company, he didn't quite like the idea of people thinking he only did because there were no other options. In some way he wanted to earn it, or at least feel like he did deserve it. 

“It’s most definitely not an open game” Heeseung commented, and Jay looked at him with wide eyes. 

“What? C’mon dude, she’s some public school transfer, it’s just fun and games. Don't start being all protective and jealous over her” he scoffed, this being the second time that Heeseung made a comment of that sort about you. 

Jay didn't like this new found protectiveness Heeseung had acquired for you even though barely 24 hours ago he was making equally nasty and perverted comments about you. 

“You're being an asshole today, you know that right?” Heeseung started, his eyes scanning the room, avoiding Jay. 

“I’m being an asshole? All of you suddenly started acting like some fuckass henpecked husbands, when this would be the exact behavior you’d make fun of just a month ago” he groaned, gritting his teeth. 

“I’m sorry Jay that your mom doesn't love you, and your dad only sees you as a token of business, but we weren't raised like that” Sunghoon said, standing up from his seat, ready to leave. 

“That’s fucked up Hoon” Jake whispered, looking at Jay’s spechless expression. 

“You know what else is fucked up Jake? That Jay is a fucking misogynist and Heeseung is some otherworldly type of addict and no is trying to help them. I have been the only person who has been putting in the slightest amount of effort to try and get them help, but I can't possibly do it alone. That’s fucked up Jaeyun. I’m leaving” he blew up, grabbing all his things, and with a tired sigh he left the living room, going straight for the door. 

It was true. Maybe Sunghoon was an idiot and sometimes acted like a huge asshole, but he was right. He loved his friends and seeing them ruin and throw their lives away hurt him. But everyone who was caught up in the same wind, didn't seem to notice. 

“Call me when you fucking grow up, Sunghoon” Jay shouted, an angered expression plastered all over his face as the door slams abruptly. 

All three of them sat in silence as they tried to figure out what happened in the span of just a couple minutes. How did the conversation come down to Jay and Heeseung having issues, and why was Sunghoon suddenly trying to act all sweet and caring when he never did care.

 Or at least they didn't notice the countless times Sunghoon tried to stop them, but to no avail. 

“I think I’m gonna go too,” Heeseung said, after a moment of dead silence. 

Without a word, Jay and Jake nodded, still not quite present in the moment. 

That’s exactly how Heeseung ended up in your home, dumping all his issues onto you as you attempted to comfort him with a slight brush of your fingers against his soft hair. 

Your outbreak with Wonyoung and Niki, left you feeling alone once again. Those thoughts kept eating you alive, but you knew that's exactly what they wanted. They wanted you to desperately crawl back to them, begging for another chance as you cried out an apology. 

You knew that coming back to them would only prove this (untrue) point of them using you and many others for their own pleasure. Turning around, and apologizing would hurt your pride beyond repair. 

And it wasn't like Heeseung was making this up either. His heart genuinely cracked at the sight of his friends fighting. 

They fought, all the time, but there was no comparing this to a fight over who gets to take the first hit or who gets to play the better character, to Sunghoon leaving completely, his harsh words still lingering in the air. 

He wasn't an addict. He was a normal teenager doing normal teenager things. He wasn't wrong for being curious.

“I’m happy that you stood up for me today, at study hall” he said, his voice low as your touch was putting him in a sleepy state. 

“How do you know about that?” you asked, not even having the time to tell him about it. 

He smiled, rolling on his side to face you “Sunghoon told me” 

“Are you really not mad at me?” you tilted your head curiously. 

He laughed, and lifting himself from your lap, he grabbed your hand in his. You could feel his warm touch embrace you fully, the action alone was enough to calm your uneasy heart. 

“No one stands up for me. I could never be mad at you for being on my side even though you barely know me” he admitted, and it made your plush lips form into a small smile. 

“Your friends never stand up for you? I find that hard to believe, Hee” 

He likes the way his name slips from your lips, the usage of the nickname forcing him to stifle the growing, uncomfortable feeling in his pants. He hated the fact that he had to control himself around you. But still, he loved the innocent look on your face as you were so oblivious to the boner in his pants. 

“They just don't know how to, I think,” he said in a whisper. “They're too caught up in their own lives, and I don't blame them. They have a lot on their plate as it is” he added, his lips forming into a straight smile, as he tried to look apologetic in front of you. 

Heeseung wanted you to see him as this complex, emotional being that's only purpose on earth is to help others. His financial situation wasn't helping him create this image, he feared that you’d think he’s just searching for problems, wanting to experience life with all the hardships that a person like him doesn't usually get bothered by. 

But you never thought so, you viewed Heeseung the exact way he wanted you to. You believed in every word he said. If only he knew that though, his cocky nature would probably fight its way to domination. 

“You’re a good friend, Heeseung” you smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. He chuckled lightly, looking at you with the same straight smile “You have me now, you know that? You said you’d help me whenever, and I want to do the same for you” 

You vividly remember his lips on yours. You can recall exactly how he tasted and how he felt against your own skin. He helped you reach some otherworldly ecstacy without going further than a simple touch. You knew you wanted him to be more, but it was too early for that admission, too early to let yourself sink in that feeling. 

You didn't understand what was going on between the two of you, where this connection was heading, and in some way it thrilled you. You couldn't possibly be friends, not after what he said that night. 

“I hope you know I meant everything I said” he uttered, and you slowly nodded, trying to recall every word that slipped from his pretty lips “I think you’re special” he added. 

Heeseung didn't know himself if this was all fake, cause at that moment it felt too real to him. He was speaking from his heart, in some way. 

Lee Heeseung was beautiful, the closest you’ll get to any godly figure. He couldn't possibly be flawed in any way. 

But there were some things the boy wouldn't even admit to himself. All the fighting, and neglecting, made him out to be this way. He always longed for the type of love no one but a parent could give him. He wanted to be loved so much it picked him apart. Heeseung never experienced what it’s like to care for someone so much, to care for someone unconditionally. 

And as the youngest sibling, no one had that love for him, because there was someone before him. 

“I’m definitely not special, Hee. It’s all you” you smiled, and he laughed softly, his eyes falling onto his lap as a rosy tint decorated his cheeks. 

“It could always be just us. You could come over, and stay till morning” he turned to you, a newfound sincerity in his eyes, as he spoke to you. 

“You’d want that?” you uttered quietly. 

The faint melody playing from the radio became muffled as you sat next to him. You never felt closer to another person, and it was all so new to you. 

“Mhm, really” he confessed, and you believed. 

It was all so domestic- he wanted to escape his family line, but he behaved just like them. Heeseung could never change the blood he was born with, blood of condescending, arrogant, manipulative, money hungry assholes. 

“Will you promise to stay with me?” he asked, ending the comforting silence that embraced you. 

You laughed lightly, finding his worries sweet “I promise” you said sticking out your pinky finger. 

“You still do that?” he said with a soft chuckle. You pouted awaiting his finger that could solidify the promise. 

He laughed and intertwined his pinky with yours. 

_______ 

Spending time with Heeseung was easy. He just always knew what to say and what to do. He was like the sweetest thing bee’s like you would fly towards. 

He had eventually introduced you to Jake, Jay and Sunghoon who eagerly apologized for coming onto you and forcing alcohol down your throat at the party, and stupidly you laughed it off not wanting to give them reasons to dislike you. 

You wanted to fit in with them. Eunseok wasn't as happy, trying to keep up with your new lifestyle, but something deep inside him didn't want to stop. He knew he owed it to you after the years of neglect his parents had presented you with. After the years of living in his shadow maybe this was the only way to repay you. 

Jake had seemed awfully desperate when you first met him. He looked and acted like one of those sleazy guys who adds girls on snapchat and sends them unsolicited dick pics, but he quickly managed to prove you wrong. You rarely spent time alone with him, almost never, but whenever that moment came, Jake became a completely different person. He was nice. He was actually so painstakingly nice to the point where you would ponder his existence in that friend group. 

And Jay- you felt nothing towards the boy. The one thing Wonyoung and Niki got right was his obvious desire to become a Korean Andrew Tate. He had nothing to give except misogynist comments he’d pretend were only jokes, and if you dared to be offended then you simply had no sense of humor. 

Sunghoon, it was hard to describe him. He just didn't really talk much. He was never there, he wasn't present although sitting just across from the ongoing conversation. Maybe he always was this way, or maybe you were the problem. 

But Heeseung, he felt some kind of obsession towards you. He wanted to carve his initials deep into your skin until you bleed a deep shade of red, all out of love for him. He wanted to touch you in the places your mere, inexperienced fingers couldn't reach. He couldn't understand you, he couldn't bear the fact that you didn't fit into the pattern, and it made him sick. 

“Get a fucking grip Y/n!” Wonyoung screamed, tugging at the thick material of your blazer. 

She pulled you discreetly into a dark hallway that connected the music hall to the rest of the school. 

“Don’t touch me” you uttered, trying to peer away from the girl. 

Wonyoung didn't look mad, angry, her face was full of desperation as her glassy eyes looked at your tired face. 

“Don't you see what he’s doing to you? He’s trying to ruin you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!” she begged for understandment but your face was blank. 

“Are you jealous? What is this about, Wonyoung? God, If you want Sunghoon’s attention then go ask him for it. I don’t know you, and you don't know me” you grit your teeth, as she looked at you terrified. 

“What are you even talking about?” she uttered, her voice cracking. 

“I’m done playing your game. Find another person to play with, I’m sure there's plenty” you replied. 

“Y/n you're not one of us. You never will be, so stop trying so hard. Getting with Heeseung won't help you fit in either. And you better not come to me when he destroys whatever reputation you have left” her words were harsh, and it seemed like your mention of Sunghoon riled her up completely. 

Wonyoung and Sunghoon have been dating for a while now. Only Wonyoung would know the exact timeline since Sunghoon had no interest in celebrating milestones with the girl. 

It wasn't like he didn't like her at all, he wouldn't give her the time of day if that was the case. He just found it thrilling and entertaining, the way she called his name, the way she’d give up everything for him if he asked. Sunghoon’s mother had set him up with the eldest daughter of Taesung Group the moment she found out he’d be a boy, so to him, Wonyoung was just a distraction from the tiring business life his mother engulfed him in. 

“Give it up, Jang Wonyoung” a male voice echoed, footsteps coming closer. 

She looked disgusted when the vision of the boy became clearer. 

“Didn't manipulate her enough today, so you had to come do it here? Fuck off, Heeseung” she sneared. 

Heeseung laughed, and grabbed your hand ostentatiously. Her gaze was glued to your intertwined hands. It made you smile slightly, the way her lip twitched at the vision, it was satisfying. 

“No one’s manipulating anyone. Sorry if that messes up your little narrative” he replied, with a smile that made her want to throw up. 

“I’ve been here long enough to know that's bullshit. You’re full of shit, Lee Heeseung” 

Your eyes flew back and forth as you tried to analyze everything about the situation. 

“Open your eyes, Y/n. Can’t you see it?” she whispered, her expression changing as she turned towards you. 

“I’m not like you, remember? So stop trying to give me advice, it’s pathetic” you voiced, and she scoffed.

“Did she say that to you” Heeseung looked down at you worriedly, and as soon as you nodded slightly, he looked back up to Wonyoung “And I’m the bad guy? At least she didn't have to convince Kim Sunoo’s parents to forcibly get her into the school” he smirked, and Wonyoung with a frustrated groan, positioned her body towards the music hall, leaving you two in the eerie hallway. 

Wonyoung was the best scoring student, but things used to be completely different. She despised studying, keeping a large distance from all sorts of books. But her parents couldn't fathom the idea that Wonyoung would not attend Saint Matthews. So with a bottle of expensive wine and some sweet words, the girl's parents got her in using their connection to Kim Sunoo’s parents who were major politicians in the country. 

She didn't like people bringing that up ever since it drunkenly slipped her while at a birthday party, so Heeseung exposing it in front of you had her embarrassed for the rest of the day. She wanted you to believe her badly, but the revelations only confirmed all your speculations about the girl, making it practically impossible for you to listen to anything she has to say to you from now on. 

… 

“God Wonyoung is such a bitch! Is she jealous? What is her issue seriously” you complained, pacing around Heeseung’s terrifyingly large room. 

It was your first time over at the boys house. It was unusual for you, all the maids showing you around, treating you like royalty, guiding you to every room. Their fake smiles, and forced acts of kindness made you sick. 

His house was colossal, massive, it extended into a vast land and the drive up to it alone was long-lasting. The walk from your apartment to a nearby store wasn’t half the length of his home, and it was appalling to you in a way. 

Heeseung’s room, for contrast, was bright, warm and welcoming. The sunlight shined down on his belongings from the ceiling high window, creating a special space where all his piano, guitars and other musical instruments lay. You recall him telling you about his passion for music, but you took it as more of an underground soundcloud rapper type of situation. 

“It’s just Sunghoon. It’s always been about Sunghoon” he answered calmly, sitting down on his couch, and with his wrought hand, patted down his lap, beckoning you to come to him. 

“Your friends are nice, and all, but you know nothing can substitute a girl best-friend. I just hoped she would be different” you sighed, and placing yourself on Heeseung’s lap, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck, head slightly leaning on his shoulder. 

His hands instinctively encased your waist, his head moving along with his eyes, as he tried to get a better look at your worn out face. 

For a moment Lee Heeseung felt bad, seeing how much comfort the two of you found in each other, knowing he can’t possibly let this go on longer. It started off with pure lust, a need to ruin the scholarship student that knows nothing about life from this side. Now  he was finding himself wanting more, knowing he can’t give it. 

Heeseung wanted to wreck your innocent image, but found himself losing it far before he even had the chance to start his plan. 

“They’re your friends now too, Y/n” he whispered, the moment feeling way too sacred “She’s lying, you know that right?” he asked after a moment of silence. He looked at you once again, checking for your expression. 

“I know, Seungie” your voice is muffled by the material of his jacket, but he can hear your words loud and clear. 

He feels like all the air in his lungs has been vacuumed up, as his last breath hitches in his throat. He feels sick. Your pretty eyes look at him with so much sincerity, trust, yet all he can think about is vivid images of your small frame under him. He can't help but wonder just how much prettier you’d look with tears in your eyes as you’d tell him it hurts. 

His fingers slightly slide over the buttons of your blouse, as he continues to stare deeply into your face, searching for signs to stop. But you look towards him indifferently, a calm expression decorating your features. 

Heeseung’s hand hovers over your uncovered thigh. He wants to feel the wetness that seeps through your panties on his fingers so badly. He wants to slowly unbutton your blouse, his eyes scanning your figure, his hands grabbing onto anything. 

“Do you want to smoke with me?” he asked, hoping that his lessons on how to properly inhale would lead him to something a little more intimate. 

“I haven't done that yet” you admit, and he chuckles. 

“I know. This could be your first” he smiles “Remember, I told you I want to help you. Well I’m doing it now” he added, quickly 

“Am I going to be fine?” you asked, peeling your head off his shoulder to look at him properly. 

Heeseung smiles leaning back on the couch. His fingers delicately push stray strands of hair behind your ear “I’m fine, so I’m sure you’ll be okay” he assures and you nod moderately. 

You deliberately slide off his lap, as he stands up to rummage through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He pulls out a tin box with an adorable puppy on it, and you find it humorous in a way, considering the pretty design is hiding something so toxic inside. 

You remember the sight of high Heeseung very well. He seemed to scare you a little back then, his words slipped from his mouth with so much ease and confidence. 

“You don't have to worry, nobody really gets high on their first try” he places the box on his coffee table, carefully opening it up. 

“Well that’s no fun” you comment. 

“It isn't the case for every new smoker, but still no one really knows why,” he explained, using his extensive knowledge to educate you. 

It wasn't the ideal area of knowledge to know everything about, but it made Heeseung feel good. It made him feel safe whenever he smoked with his friends or new people. He always knew what to do and how to act if something were to go wrong. 

“This weed Jay sold off to me is hella dank, maybe you will feel something after all” he smiled, and even though you had no idea what he was saying, you reciprocated. 

Heeseung pulled out one of his filters, folding it and rolling it into a cylinder. He placed it at the end of his paper, filling it with cannabis and sprinkling just a bit of tobacco inside. He tightened it  and with his tongue moistened the shiny edge of the paper. 

“You need to feel the smoke travel down to your lungs” he explained, searching for a lighter in his pockets “Inhale for like 2 seconds, and take smaller hits so you don't cough so much” he smiled, finally pulling out a green lighter. 

You never were interested in smoking or drinking, but some part of you couldn't deny Heeseung. It was stupid, but perhaps this was your one way ticket to his heart. 

Heeseung lit the joint, staring intensely as the flame moved across the surface, waiting for the right moment to take the first hit. 

He inhaled, his teeth slightly gritting as he exhaled the smoke, the familiar scent hitting your nose. 

He held the blunt between his fingers, and moved closer towards you “I’ll guide you” 

Heeseung propped the lit cannabis next to your lips and with a nod to his head, ushered you to take it into your mouth. You assuringly looked at him, counting down the two seconds in your mind as a burning sensation coated your throat. You felt the smoke travel down to your lungs, pulling away to take a deep breath. With a small cough you exhaled, making Heeseung smile. 

He didn't know he’d enjoy seeing you like this “Good girl” 

You took a long sip of the water that has probably been on his coffee table for a long time, the liquid tasting a little weird. But you didn't care, the need to moisten your throat overpowering the unfresh taste.

“Was it good?” he asked, taking another rip. 

The smoke hit you in the face “Not the best” you answered honestly and he chuckled. 

“It gets better” he assured, and passed you the blunt again. 

… 

It felt weird. Weird in a good way. 

Your eyelids felt heavy, the laughter coming to you naturally. Obviously you didn't feel half as high as Heeseung who swore he was walking in slow motion, but you most certainly were enjoying yourself. 

To Heeseung it feels like an attack on his fragile ego, the fact that he has gotten so far but not on top of you just yet. And even with the minuscule bit of confidence he has earned right now, he needs to at least try. 

Your purity radiates off of every one of your laughs as you intently look at him, just slightly fiddling with the loose string on your skirt. If he moved just a little bit he would probably be able to see what's under the navy material. 

Heeseung’s pants start to feel uncomfortable against his skin once again as you keep on laughing so innocently at his ambiguous jokes only a virgin like you wouldn't understand. 

He wants to feel your lips against his again but this time he knows he won't stop at that. He can't. 

“I want to kiss you so bad” he admitted, and you felt an unknown wave rush through your veins, his face slowly inching closer. 

He waited patiently for a response, his mind well aware that any sudden move would cause his plan to backfire. 

But instead of letting him take the lead, you nearly closed the gap between the two of you, letting your lips just slightly graze against his, smiling as he waited impatiently. 

“Such a tease” he murmured before pressing his pretty mouth against yours, his hands traveling to the back of your neck, holding you still against him. 

He smiled into the kiss, his tongue tasting the familiar vanilla chapstick, the scent of your perfume hypnotizing, making a blur of Heeseung’s mind. The way your lips felt against him even though you were so inexperienced, it felt much more special to him. 

Heeseung’s lips never left your skin, traveling so delicately down to your jaw, placing chaste kisses everywhere he could. His ivory fingers held tightly onto your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he continued to slide down to your neck. 

He wasted no time leaving small, and visible marks, his teeth slightly biting into your skin, the quiet breaths that left your mouth, riling him up even further. 

“Can I?” he asked, Heeseung’s eyes going back and forth from your face to the buttons of your dress shirt. 

With your mouth parted and an unsteady breath you nodded. 

He smirked, and continued to attack your collarbones, his fingers unbuttoning your blouse with ease. 

“You’re so hot” he breathed onto your chest, pressing you down onto the mattress fully. 

The sweet noise that slipped from your lips, made a sly smile reappear on Heeseung's face, his cock twitching in his pants, the material suffocating him. 

If he moved down even a little bit, he’d probably be able to notice the soaking wet patch on your panties. 

The way his lips felt against almost every part of your body, the soft yet sudden touch of his fingers, it all felt way too good to give up. 

Heeseung gave you a knowing look, his face just a couple centimeters from your heat, his hands digging into your thighs. 

He noticed your relectuance “You know I just want to help you” he cooed, soothing down your skin, crawling right back up to face you “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl” 

You weren't afraid of many things in your life, but most importantly, being unraveled by Heeseung and him finding nothing he wants in there. 

You nodded slowly, his smile growing with each one of your nods. You didn't know what he’d do next, the blood in your body pumping faster as you anticipated his next move. 

Heeseung moved up your skirt, and as the fabric moved up, your skin burned with anticipation. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your covered cunt, begging for his attention. 

“So wet” he commented, his hand gently pressing your sensitive core “I barely even touched you” he added, chuckling. 

He gave you one last glance searching for confirmation, which you once again gave him, before sliding off your underwear. Heeseung didn't even bother removing your skirt, his mouth wet with desire.

 Heeseung’s fingers barely hover over your folds, the sole heat that radiates off of him making you squirm, twitching slightly. 

He laughs “So sensitive and for what? Relax, pretty thing”. 

He positions himself against you, his eyes locking with yours as he places swift kisses on your inner thigh. His lips move down in a slow pace, and you have to stop yourself from pushing his head forward. Each peck burns on your shivering skin, overwhelming you to the bone. His breath felt soft on your bare flesh, fingers digging into your thighs. 

His tongue flicked out, coming in contact with you after what felt like eternity. Your legs fight the urge to close on him, his mouth sending shockwaves of pleasure down your body. 

You grab at the nearest pillow, covering your face with it, embarrassed at how exposed you felt in front of him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping up all he could taste of you. 

The heat of his touch, the place that warmed you. The pulse, he could hold onto it alongside other rythmns. He just couldn’t get enough, he wanted to pry you open. Time faded away slowly, as he continued to devour you. 

You were on the edge, teetering between pleasure and pain, your body begging for release, as the knot in your stomach tightened.  

His mouth latched onto you, sucking and flicking with expert precision. He was enjoying himself, the sweet taste of innocence lacing his tongue. The sweet taste of crimson red innocence that he worked so hard to diminish, that he worked so hard to scrape you of. 

Heeseung was probably the closest you'll get to heaven in this lifetime. He was God's favorite, right at your thighs giving you the most beautiful form of pleasure avaliable. 

“Fuck” his chest heaves uneasily, his fingers gripping tightly onto your thighs “I could eat you out everyday” 

You wanted to beg him for more, beg him to let you release as it became even harder to hold it in. Completely and utterly lost in the new sensation, you roll your hips, gliding against his parted lips. 

“Keep doing that, fuck” he slurs, lost in a trance, his only goal being making you feel good. 

You caught a glimpse of him for just a moment- his pretty eyes so focused, his lips swollen and covered in your arousal. With every sound, every small movement, his actions became rougher, the feeling in your stomach becoming unbearable. 

“Cum for me, please” he mumbled against your skin, his desperation to make you cum fueled by the way you can't even form a proper sentence in response. 

Your fingers grip his bed sheets, his name falling from your lips multiple times before you feel the knot in your stomach quickly coming undone, a wave of intense pleasure washing over you. 

“Oh my god” you cried before fully releasing onto his face, his tounge desperately trying to lap up every single drop of his own hard work. 

Your whole body twitched in the aftermath of your climax, Heeseung still holding you down, his pretty lips back on your thighs and stomach, as he waited out your high with you. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, looking at you with lovesick eyes. 

With just a small blunt that barely got any of you high, Heeseung managed to get you just halfway where he needed you. Obviously, he’d rather have you on your knees in front of him, tears filling up your eyes as he pushed your head further down his cock, but this was enough to satisfy him, for now. 

He was peeling apart your innocence slowly, but surely, and his ego was never higher. 

______

It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to Aeri Uchinaga. 

Aeri, or how everyone liked to call her, Giselle, was one of your closest friends from the “lower class” school you used to go to. She was like a sister to you, the only ‘family’ you ever truly had in your life.

You promised yourself to never let go of your values and never let your relationship with Aeri falter, but both of those things went down the drain a long long time ago. 

Seeing the messages between the two of you lose all their momentum, become less frequent, and come down to ‘How’s Saint Matthews’ or ‘How are you holding up over there?’ frightened you. 

Would she even want to talk to you? Would she pick up if you called? Would she care? 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just let it go?” you said, scrolling through all the messages you and Aeri shared over the past month, noticing how you could probably count them with two hands. 

Heeseung hummed, turning away from his calculus worksheets “I think if she cared enough she’d reach out. She should understand you're busy with your new life and be the first one to initiate conversations and all” 

It was partially true. Why should you be the only one to care and keep the friendship going? She should also try more, shouldn't she? 

“I’ve known her for years, Hee. I can't just let go that easily” you murmured, and he scoffed quietly. 

“But you have me now, isn't that enough?” he asked, his expression emotionless. 

Heeseung didn't even realize his words came out much more arrogantly than he intended. 

“I know, I’m sorry” you looked down “I just still want her to be in my life, that’s all” he hummed in approval, finding it annoying, the way your words implied like he wasn’t satisfying you in every sector. 

Jay, who sat opposite of you in the study hall, sighed ostentatiously. 

“Then just text her? I don't see the issue, seriously” he commented, pulling one of his airpods out of his ear, apparently tired of hearing you complain about such an ‘easy matter’. 

“It’s not that easy, Jay” Sunghoon mumbled, not taking his eyes off the work in front of him. 

Jay gave him a questioning look, deciding not to continue the conversation, way too tired for another fight with Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon had been behaving awfully weird ever since the fight at the apartment. He suddenly felt the need to comment on everything slightly negative that Jay or anyone else said towards you. That was one of the primal reasons for the group's continuous fighting. 

“Let’s get out of here” Heeseung turned to you after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

You nodded reluctantly, still not finished with the stacks of papers you had to complete by tonight. But you could never deny Lee Heeseung. Not with the way his eyes glare at you intensely, and definitely not with the way his hand grips yours tightly, pulling you away from the table, not leaving a second for goodbyes. Not like you’d want to fakely smile at Park Jongseong with a wave; you fucking hated his guts. 

“You’re being weird today” you notice, his body facing away from you, pulling you towards an unknown destination. 

You still haven't fully addressed the lingering tension that stuck to you after what happened. But since Heeseung didn't bother mentioning it, you decided that it probably would be better to leave it at that. Sex, with all the ways it came in, was normal, and you were sooo normal about it too. 

“I’m not” 

Heeseung couldn't avoid the growing pain in his heart, recalling whatever the fuck he did back at his house, seemingly starting to realize that it probably wasn't something he needed to do, but something he wanted to do. 

For fucks sake, he never came out with the initiative to eat a girl out, and he most definitely never just left it at that, not even getting his dick wet in the process. 

The usually loud and bustling atmosphere of the student common space seemed to be gone, the bean bags and couches empty, no student in hindsight. 

“I just can't be around them anymore,” he added after a rather long moment, sitting down with a thud on one of the black couches. 

“Did you fight again?” you asked, placing yourself down next to him, your hands almost automatically finding their way to his own. 

“You could say that” he chuckled, recalling how Jake once again brought up your topic, which led to yet another heated discussion. 

“You should talk to them, this has been happening way too much recently” you ushered, and he shook his head with another small laugh. 

“They are most definitely not those kinds of people. Don't think I've had a serious conversation with them like ever”

Heeseung, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon have been friends for quite a long time now, especially Heeseung and Jay, and their lack of communication was astonishing. Every fight would be brushed off, they’d just pretend nothing happened and laugh it off. Every hard decision would have to be made individually because asking for advice was pointless. It wasn't easy with them and Heeseung knew that. 

“Either way, I’m happy you talk to me about it, maybe it can ease your mind just a little” you smiled, and he reciprocated, looking at you. 

“Yeah, it does help” he confirmed, and leaned back. 

Heeseung lived by night. As soon as the sun set it was as if his sins were disguised. So he hated the way his mind was slowly coming to the realization that the stupid plan he made was set for disaster the moment he sought out for you in the morning. 

“Do you want to come over after classes?” he asked, playing with the hem of your skirt, the seemingly innocent action making your heart flutter nervously. 

“I’m over there almost everyday” you laugh, and so does he, a snide smile on his lips. 

“You know your fate then” he says, his hand still inching closer, the public space that surrounded you having no effect on him. 

“Why are your parents never home?” you ask, and he finds it humorous in a way. Obviously owners of a multimillion company would never find time to spend back at home with their adult sons. 

The difference between you and Heeseung was that you knew your parents wouldn't be there to welcome you home everyday. You knew it was impossible. Heeseung could only suspect or assume, because his parents had given up on telling him when they’ll return from a business trip a long time ago. 

“They’re busy, I guess” he said, with a small sigh “Or at least they pretend to be, I wouldn't be shocked if the multiple business trips were just vacations” he laughed, his gaze falling onto you again. 

“At least you have your brother there” you smiled and he chuckled, he most definitely did not have a brother in reality. 

“Honestly, if he wasn't there it wouldn't make much of a difference” Heeseung sighed, and even though he’s gotten used to the relationship he shared with his brother, it still saddened him in a way. 

“It’s about the company, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a chuckle. 

“Smart girl” he cooed, ruffling your hair softly. You laughed, and shoved his hand off playfully. 

It wasn’t so hard to assume after all. What else could rich siblings be fighting over, who gets to sit in the passenger seat? Who gets to have the last slice of pizza? That's so fucking humorous. He was fighting with his brother over millions and a couple more millions, and didn’t even realize how materialistic and stupid that sounded to someone like you. 

Heeseung pulled your body closer to his, feeling an otherworldly connection course through his veins as you gave away your warmth to him. And how much tighter did you need to be pressed against each other before he finally admitted that he wasn't doing this for warmth. 

How many times did his thumb have to press against the edge of your mouth for him to realize he's gone too far?

“Did you hear that Sunghoon broke up with Wonyoung?” he asked, his body melting into yours with every passing second. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, but on another note, you would be lying if you said you didn't expect it. And it most definitely didn't shock you that Sunghoon was the one to initiate it. 

“Why?” you asked, even though it wasn't a hard deduction to make yourself.

“I think me and you both know why” he huffed, a hint of humor lacing his tone “Honestly good for him, that girl is insufferable” 

“Oh I know” you agreed, and he smiled “Go easy on him, still” 

“I'll try my best” he rolled his eyes playfully “We should definitely throw him a celebration party” Heeseung inquired and you chuckled. 

“Is that really something he’s celebrating, or just us?” you asked and he smiled. 

Sunghoon was so incredibly hard to read, and knowing if the breakup is impacting him negatively or positively was something nobody would ever know. 

“It’ll still help him get back up on his feet, if he even needs to” he replied, and you nodded smiling. 

You had no idea about the status between you and Heeseung. Things happened, and things were most definitely still happening, you both knew it, but nothing changed within the label itself. But then again, you took Heeseung as the type that didn't like labeling things. 

Of course you wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted people to start knowing you by “Lee Heeseungs girlfriend”, not “Broke Transfer” or “Poor Scholar”. 

You relied heavily on Heeseung. He was like your life support in the walls of this school. He helped you make decisions and was there for you whenever you needed him. He felt just like flying too close to the sun, and it was addictive. You knew that very well. 

He truly was the only person you had. And well, you assumed that maybe calling Aeri isn't that good of an idea.

 Well, that’s what Heeseung agrees with anyway. 

__________ 

You were so out of it. 

You had told Eunseok that you’ll be staying the night at a new friend's house, but would he really care if he were to find out you’d actually be getting shit faced at a massive house party in a mansion you didn’t really know the owner of. 

Probably not. 

The music was so loud you could barely register the words Kim Sunoo spoke to you so enthusiastically. You had come here expecting to spend some time with Heeseung, but no matter how much you wanted to go look for him, the never ending white hallways that led to countless guest bedrooms frightened you. 

From your comfortable position on the couch, you could spot Sunghoon’s lonely figure at one of the tables. He was supposed to be the main attraction, the whole event centered around his new found freedom, but it seemed like everyone around him was having much more fun than him. 

You quickly waved off Sunoo, unsure of what he truly was going on about for the past 10 minutes, heading towards Sunghoon. 

“Are you okay?” You asked without having to shout in the boy's face, finding the corner he sat in much quieter. 

He looked startled, he didn't catch the moment where you came to him “I’m fine” Sunghoon replied swiftly, blinking a few times. 

You found it cute. 

“Why are you alone? Where is everyone” you asked him another question and for the first time you saw him smile so sweetly. 

He always had the same emotionless expression on his face, conversations with him felt like a punishment. Seeing him like this made your knees weak, a slight pain in your heart as you wondered what he was thinking about. 

“I hoped you’d tell me that” he said, his small smile never fading. 

You chuckled “I thought all this was supposed to be for you” 

He shook his head with a laugh “I never wanted any of this. They just used my situation as an excuse to get black out drunk, I guess” 

Even though it was sad, he never stopped smiling at you. His head rested on his knuckles, his eyes twinkling as his gaze was focused on you. 

“That’s rude” you inquired, and he laughed again, but this time it much more resembled a scoff. 

“Heeseung has done and is doing things much worse” he murmured, and even though the music was still very much blasting through the speakers, you heard him.  

You thought about it before questioning him again. Did you even want to know? Or are some things better left unspoken. 

“Like?” you finally said, and that’s when Sunghoon went quiet. 

With a thud he slammed his glass on the table, and stood up. He nodded his head towards one of the rooms at the end of the hallway signaling for you to follow him. He extended one of his hands towards you, and with the smallest bit of hesitation you took it, allowing him to lead you towards the space. 

Park Sunghoon looked so beautiful that night. His ivory skin glowed under the bright, colorful lights, his gaze was so piercing, and his lips just begged to be kissed. The pair of glasses hanging off his nose complemented his white fitted dress shirt, and his black pants showed off his perfectly long legs. You saw a different side of him and didn’t exactly like the way it made you feel. 

He closed the door behind you after assuring that the two of you would be alone. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he was betraying one of his closest friends. 

But he thought about it all the time. He couldn’t get peace of mind. He couldn’t let his heart hurt for you, watching you fall for a fraudulent man that didn’t deserve someone as loyal and caring as you. 

“What is going on Sunghoon?” you asked, standing above him, as he placed himself on the leather couch with a sigh. 

“I know you like him, I know you believe everything he says and I know you won’t like what I’m about to say” he started explaining, and the suspense was killing you “But he’s not the guy you think he is. You’re not the first one, Y/n” 

“What the fuck do you mean I’m not the first one Sunghoon. First, what?” 

He was trying to stay calm, but you were already getting annoyed and he hasn’t even dropped the real bomb on you. 

Sunghoon thought about it for a second. Was using Pham Hanni a good example or should he reach deeper inside his mind to find another person Heeseung has used to fulfill his own perverted and psychotic desires. 

“I mean you’re not the first girl he has used this way” he uttered without looking at you, too scared to see your expression. 

Were you scared? Or were you mad? Hurt or in disbelief? 

You didn’t respond, letting the silence devour the two of you for a moment. 

“Please say something, Y/n” he whispered, grabbing your hand. 

His hands were cold, his fingers long and ivory. His touch was so smooth, and welcoming. He managed to pull you down next to him, yet you still couldn’t slip a word out of your mouth. He wondered if you’d ever reply or if you would just sit there, forever, next to him in silence. 

He’d like that. He’d like that more than he should. He was already betraying his friend, but his heart still wanted more. He wanted you to be more. 

“Why are you telling me about this, Sunghoon?” you finally said, and he looked at you, his gaze softening. 

“Because I like you” he said, his gaze falling to your intertwined hands “And I can’t stand looking at you getting lied to like this” he added after a short moment. 

It didn’t hit you when he said it. It felt like a moment that passed by quickly, it felt like it wasn’t anything significant. But looking at him, feeling the coldness radiate off of him, and feeling his scent made you realize he actually said it. 

“Don’t say that, Hoon” when the usage of his nickname slipped off your tongue, and he knew you didn’t mean it. 

He knew you felt it too, you just couldn’t say it, right? There was this invisible string tying you tightly to Heeseung’s grip, holding you back from giving into him. You wanted to. You’ve always wanted to, and so did he. From the moment he saw you, standing there with Wonyoung on your first day. 

Neither of you moved, caught in each other's closeness, both aware of it, both unsure. 

Sunghoon’s slender fingers grazed your jaw, softly pulling you to face him. His lips were slightly parted, and you could feel his breath, laced with alcohol and cigarettes. His gaze was heavy on yours and you could feel your heart racing in your throat- but you couldn’t pull away. 

He traced the curve of your jaw, his hand slipping down to your throat. His grip was firm, his lips grazing over the edge of yours. 

‘Tell me to stop” he whispered, smiling when he only heard a faint breath slip from your mouth. “Tell me and I will” he smiled against your cheek. 

“I want you so bad” he murmured, his voice low “You don’t even know” His nose was pressing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel him all over you. 

All at once, the restraint you had, faded away. His back fell to the soft padding of the couch, your legs straddling his lap, keeping him still and open for you. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips, eyes dark and hooded. 

His hands slipped down to your lower back, pulling you in closer, skin to skin. You felt dizzy, his mouth eating at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. He grabbed your waist tightly, moving you back and forth on his growing bulge. 

His hands moved up to your jaw as you rode his clothed crotch without his assistance. 

You felt shivers down your spine, an uncontrollable force pushing you for more. You wanted him whole, completely forgetting about the boy that was somewhere in this house, laughing with his friends. 

But you didn’t want him to stop, finally closing the last breath of distance between you and Sunghoon, pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss was sloppy, he met you with even more eagerness, your hand moving down to his chest, feeling his carved muscles against your fingertips. His tongue pried your mouth for entrance, deeping the connection between you. He held you as if he had been waiting forever for this moment, holding your body firm against his own. 

You pulled away, your faces inches apart, your forehead resting against his. Your lips coated in his saliva, trying to catch your breath, he looked at you with so much passion and longing. 

The regret started to settle in, but you couldn’t move away, even when his fingers caressed your cheek, you leaned into it. 

“You should be with me,” he whispered, a hint of desperation coating his voice “We’d be so good together, I’d make you feel so good” he added, his hand slipping past the band of your small skirt. 

“Sunghoon” you breathed out, your face falling to the crook of his neck as he played with the material of your underwear. 

“You were made for me to love, let me please” he pleaded, his breath shaky. 

You could feel his soft touch caressing your skin, his erection firmly against your clothed heat, it all felt like a dream. If you looked at him, it would all become real again. 

“We shouldn't” you said, your words muffled by the silky material of his dress shirt. 

He heard you, he didn't want you to stop, he was so desperate to have you, he wanted to show you just how much better he was than Heeseung. 

“It’s not wrong when he doesn't know” he took your jaw into his fingers, forcing you to look at him. You looked so pretty and innocent, your lipstick slightly smeared around your lips. 

Sunghoon pressed his hungry lips against yours once again, and you complied with his movements. The kiss was messy, sloppy, and at that point, he lost any control that was left in his body. 

Dazed, he didn't even hear the door jerk open. Neither did you, focused on his lips that have moved down to your neck once again. 

“What the fuck is this?” a familiar male voice shouted angrily, causing you to pull out of Sunghoon’s touch, scared to look at the man standing in the doorway. You knew it was him. 

“Heeseung” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes wide as the realization started to settle in. He stood up from the couch, walking towards the boy who looked like a ticking time bomb. 

You sighed, hands in your hair, no words left to be spoken. You felt nothing, Sunghoon’s touch still lingering on your skin, and Heeseung’s words in the air. 

“Calm down, Heeseung” Sunghoon said softly, still unsure of the situation that surrounded him. 

Instead of that, he got hit with a punch to his face, harshly stumbling backwards, his back pressing against the glass table. He touched his cheek, the sensation causing him to flinch. He could feel the taste of blood in his mouth. 

“I’m sorry” he said, looking down, spitting into the glass cup that someone left on the table. 

Heeseung smiled seeing his friend's reddish saliva slide down the walls of the glass. 

You stayed quiet, hoping the same fate wasn't waiting for you. You wanted to disappear, already creating the monologue you’d spill out to Eunseok as soon as you came home. ‘Please, I need to go back to my old school’ you’d plead until he’d finally give in. 

“I’m sure you are, Hoonie” he chuckled, slapping his forearm, taking the cup from his hand “I’m sure you regret it, don’t you” he looked intently at his friend who was struggling to keep eye contact. 

Heeseung slammed the cup on the floor, the glass shattering across the wooden panels, causing both you and Sunghoon to flinch. 

Sunghoon nodded his head, trying to stand up straight, but failing miserably as Heeseung kicked his lower abdomen with his knee. 

“You think it’s okay to mess with your friends girl behind his back?” he asked, holding Sunghoon’s bleeding jaw in his fingers “Is it?” 

“No” Sunghoon spat out, looking at Heeseung with his watery eyes, the pain in his stomach unbearable. 

“Heeseung, please stop, just stop it” you pleaded, looking up at him from teary eyes, unable to watch anymore “I came onto him, it’s all my fault” you lied, trying to somehow fix what was already broken. 

“Is that true” his gaze shifted back and forth from you to Sunghoon, waiting for one of you to give him a straight answer. 

You nodded ferociously, while Sunghoon kept his gaze plastered on the floor. 

“Get out” he turned to his vunerable friend, his lips dripping in blood, his hand holding onto his stomach. 

The view didn't move him one bit. 

Sunghoon looked at him and then at you, stumbling on his way to the door, slamming it shut when he finally managed to exit. 

“You came onto him, yeah? Did you like it?” he chuckled, a devilish grin on his face as he looked at you, so fragile and afraid of him. 

“I’m sorry Hee, I wasn't thinking straight” you explained, mentally preparing for him to strike you at any given moment now. 

You should be the one asking for an apology, he should be the one saying sorry for using you. 

“Get up” he ordered, extending his hand to you. You looked at him sheepishly, his dark figure standing over you. 

You obeyed, taking his cold hand, frightened a little bit by his intimidating and unpredictable behavior. He led you to the bathroom that was placed just across from the couch you were making out with Sunghoon on, stopping in front of the sink. 

He looked at you through the mirror, his lips falling to your ear “Spit” 

“What?” you asked, your voice cracking. 

“You heard me the first time” he said sternly, his gaze never falling from your eyes. 

“W-why?” you mumbled, and his small smile dropped. 

His fingers squeezed your waist painfully, his other hand shoving your face down towards the sink “When I tell you to do something, you do it” he groaned, and with your eyes shut, you completed his order. 

“Wash your mouth” he ordered after a moment, his body pressing against your ass as he held your head in place “Wash all that’s left of him” 

You just listened to every word he said. He let go of your hair, letting you look at yourself again. Heeseung smiled, his hands wandering from your waist to the band of your skirt. 

“Did you like it when Sunghoon touched you here? Did you feel taken care of? Tell me, pretty girl” his hand slipped down lower, his fingers easily slipping past your panties, hovering over your core. 

“I asked you a question” he said more sternly, as you refused to reply to him, your brain fixated on the feeling of his fingers on you. 

“I liked it,” you replied truthfully, and he smiled. 

“You like when my friends take care of you, don’t you? You’d let Jay fuck you, you’d blow Jake if he asked, wouldn't you?” he asked, and you winced at his words, the sound mixing with the way his fingers played with you. 

“But you’d come back to me. You’d come back all swollen from their house to me. Cause you love me” he said, and you nodded, your hips riding his hand that was buried deep in your underwear. 

“Want me to fuck you now? Show you who you actually belong to?” he whispered in your ear sweetly, his fingers still teasing your entrance. 

“Yes” you managed to utter. Your heart was pounding so hard, a part of you craving Heeseung’s touch, while another one trembled with fear. 

He turned you around, you could finally face him. His eyes were dark, his anger mingling in the air. His lips were wet with desire. 

“Playing with my best friend, making me watch, you loved it, didn't you baby?” he laughed, his hand escaping your skirt, finding its way to your hips. He pressed himself against you, his hands wandering under your top. 

“You’ll get what you want, don’t worry” he smiled, his fingers caressing your lips “That pussy wouldn't give it to you anyway” he laughed, catching you in a sloppy kiss. 

“Get on your knees, baby” he said, his tone soft, a caring facade covering his internal rage. 

You nodded, softly, sliding down to your knees in front of him. The dimly lit space made him look so beautiful, his harsh words leaving with Sunghoon a while ago. 

“You can take it right?” he asked, unbuckling his belt, the material of his black dress pants brushing against your skin as he slid them down. 

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as he teased you, palming himself through his boxers. You could see his pulsing erection, the way his face twisted as he continued stimulating himself. 

“You wanna see, huh? Dirty girl, you love every second of this” he laughed, his voice laced with innuendo. 

Finally, with one hand he slid down his underwear, freeing his thick, hard cock. It slapped against his sculpted torso, and he smiled seeing your face light up. 

“You like what you see, yeah? So fucking hard just for you” he asked with amusement, grabbing your jaw. 

You nodded, finally being able to see him whole, raw in front of you. 

He was now completely exposed before you, fully vulnerable and at your mercy.

“Good. Feel how hard I am for you. Touch me” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You reached out tentatively, unsure of your actions, your cold fingers wrapping around his rigid shaft, coating its surface with his arousal as you slowly stroked him. He was hot and pulsing with his heartbeat. 

He groaned “Yeah, like that” his eyes closed with pleasure instinctively “Now put it in your pretty mouth” he ordered after a moment. 

You leaned forward, as he pulled your hair aside, twirling it in his palm. Your breath tickled his tip, his teeth gritting as he watched you open your mouth for him, and wrap your sweet lips around the head of his cock. 

He groaned, your warm mouth hugging him reluctantly. You could taste his bittersweet pre-cum on your toungue, the sensation of his hardness making shivers go down your spine. Your head began to move deeper down his length, finding it difficult to fit all of him inside you. 

“Fuck, s’good, suck me nice and slow just like that” he moaned, slightly pushing your head down his cock. He could see the tears forming in your eyes, and it made him twitch in your mouth. 

You did as he instructed, taking your time with him, finding the spots that made him react the most, teasing his sensitive underside. Hollowing your cheeks, going faster, Heeseung’s grip on you only tightening with every movement. 

You looked so helpless and lost, your mouth full of him. He fought to keep quiet, his other hand gripping the counter, his chest heaving unevenly. Your head bobbed up and down, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. 

“Fuck, keep going, I’m close” he whined, his lips parted as he guided you back and forth on his length. 

His cock twitched, your movements becoming sloppier as you awaited his climax. You could feel him deep down in your throat, the feeling accompanied by his intense breathing and hoarse moans. His hand gripped your hair tightly, he began to thrust gently, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.  

“I’m gonna cum, fuck” his voice was strained, his heart racing in his chest “Gonna cum in your mouth, take my load baby” 

He groaned, his warm, thick cum spilling all over your tongue, Heeseung’s body shuddering as he emptied his load down your throat.  

“Swallow it,” he said, his breath shaky as he rode out his high. 

He pulled out after a moment, his cock glistening with your saliva and his juices. 

“You’re so perfect” he breathed out, still trying to steady himself “Get up, sweet girl” he instructed, and with an ache to your knees you managed to get up. 

His lips hurried to connect with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your lips were so soft and wet, your eyes watery. He wiped a salty tear that slipped from your eye. The look on your face took him back to the day he first met you, so pretty and untouched. 

“Let me make you feel good now” he whispered, guiding you to the bed, his pants and boxers left abandoned in the bathroom, as he got rid of his shirt while locking the door. 

He remembers just how much he fantasized about fucking you behind an unlocked door, hoping one of his sickly perverted friends walked in. But he no longer wanted to share you. 

He yearned for you, needed you just like the flesh that wanted to knit itself back together after a fresh wound. His desire was so primal, so intuitive. He was peeling his skin back, the layers slowly unfolding before your eyes. 

“Undress for me” he waited, his eyes tracing your every move, his body shivering as he watched you. 

If you were ready, he wanted to make you shiver like that too. 

You pulled down your black skirt, squeezing your thighs together as you were left only in your underwear. He came towards you, helping with your top half. He puts your hands up, the material gliding against your shaky skin. The fabric falls to the floor with a small thud, leaving you bare for him to adore. 

He stood back, admiring the beauty of the girl in front of him. He regretted every spoken word at that moment, every curse, every joke and everything that led up to this moment. 

Those words stained his mouth like a pomegranate, the lingering sensation still on his tongue as he took you in. 

Heeseung’s lips crashed down on yours, his shivering hands roaming down to your enclosed thighs, spreading you open enough for his fingers to slide through. He explored you with rough urgency, his mind blank as he focused on you and only you. 

He moved you down to sit on his lap, his hard on pressing against your ass. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Desperation sat heavily on his tongue. 

“You’re so pretty, all mine, all this is for me” he mumbled into your skin, his fingers digging at your hips. Your teeth grit, hands pulling his dark hair. 

Heeseung was so hungry for you. Hungry for your lips, your flesh, your bones that he wanted to intertwine with his. He was so drunk on love. 

His hand slipped down your body, his thumb circling small circles on your clothed heat. He felt the wetness seep through. 

He lifted you up, lying you down on the mattress swiftly. He situated himself in between your legs, his eyes scanning your body. You were such a pretty girl, so obedient and welcoming to him. You didn't protest, just did what he asked you to.

“Heeseung, please..” you whispered, and he could feel his heartbeat speed up “I want you inside me” he was amused by your eagerness, the way you were so direct with your words. 

“Sweet girl” he murmured, his fingers hooking the band of your pretty pink underwear “So fucking ready for me” 

He looked at you one last time, his fingers pulling at your panties, and with a nod to your head, he rolled the fabric down your legs, throwing it next to his abandoned shirt. 

“Already this wet?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly “I barely even touched you” a smirk adorned his lips.

He could come just by looking at you, your greed only fueling his own desire to fuck the shit out of you. But he'd hurt you, wouldn't he? 

Heeseung’s heart was racing just from the sight of you, his body reacting instantly to the view in front of him. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his pretty blue veins popping out from under his skin. 

He aligned himself with you, coating his length with your arousal. His throbbing cock glided in between your folds, your body trembling at the new feeling, as heavy breaths slipped from your mouth. His tip nudged against your entrance, your heart racing. You had never felt anyone this closely, and nothing made you more excited than it being Heeseung after all. 

“I won’t hurt you, yeah?” he laughed, his tone low “You think you can take it?” he teased, his tip slipping in and out, each time going just a little further. 

“Mhm” you nodded your head, looking at him with your mouth slightly parted. 

He leaned down to squeeze your cheeks “Yeah? And you won't cry?” you attempted to nod again, but his grip on you was firm. You just blinked eagerly, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

His tone was inciting, it could almost seem as if he was making fun of you. Yet no other man had ever made you feel so wanted, so good. No man has ever touched you like Heeseung did. 

He pressed you down underneath him, holding onto your lower back, his lips wandering all over your damp skin, His touch was rushed, he wanted this just as much as you. 

“Ready?” he asked, stroking himself, his gaze glued to you. You breathed out a short conformation, grabbing into his arm that flexed under your touch. 

Heeseung nodded, his eyes dark with desire and need. His hands were shaking, his body trembling with the effort of restraint. 

He grabbed onto your leg, and with a slow movement, buried himself deep inside you. You gasped, pleading for your body to adjust to the sudden invasion. Heeseung’s cock filled you completely, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. He didn't move, waiting for the look of discomfort to wipe off your face. 

You had wanted this. You waited impatiently for Heeseung to take away the one sacred thing you owned- your virginity. You wanted him to be the man that gets to have you first, the love and thirst for him overpowering any rational thoughts. 

“Fucking tight” he breathed out, as his head fell back, a low, gutteral moan escaping his lips as he continued to move, his body conusmed by the sheer pleasure. 

It didn't take him a long time to bottom out, groans falling from his slightly parted lips. The pain of his thickness was almost exciting, your nails digging at his skin, eyelids becoming heavy. His cock buldged in your stomach, making him moan out loud with no sense of embarrassment. 

Your walls gripped onto his length “Feels s'good, shit” his thrusts were slow and delicate, not wanting to break your fragile frame “See this, so fucking deep inside you” he took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach so you could feel him. 

“Does it feel nice?” he kissed your neck, his face hugging the side of yours as he picked up his pace.

You turned to look at him “It d-does” you whispered. 

He rammed into you, his strokes becoming more frequent and sloppy. His face twisted with pleasure, a stream of euphonious sounds slipped from your lips, powering his own arousal. The music slightly entered the room through the shut door, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breaths overpowering it.

“That’s it, baby” his hands gripped your hips as you moved with him in sync, his body almost automatically responding to any of your movements. Your breathing became increasingly uneven and ragged “Just like that, just like that” 

“Fuck, Heeseung” you struggled for breath, his pace becoming infernal. 

His eyes ran down your body like never before, his face looking down at you intently, almost like a wolf looking down on its prey. His fingers continued to grab onto anything he managed, his mind going blank as the sound of your cries filled his ears. 

The sight and sensation drived you further into ecstasy, his warmth so strong on your skin. You couldn't help the pleasure, a small, salty tear escaping your glossy eyes. 

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a desperate, rough kiss, his body shaking with need. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His thumb wiped down the tear from your cheek, his eyes hooded as he stared down at you, analyzing the state he had put you in. 

“You’re so perfect, so perfect for me” he whispered, his body on fire, every fiber of his being consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside you, of feeling you beneath him. 

Your moans become guttural, body shuddering with overwhelming pleasure at his words, at the thought of having him like this all the time. 

“I’m so in love with you, fuck” he breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest. 

He knew he was in too deep, knew that he couldn't stop this even if he wanted to, not when he felt like this, burried so fucking deep inside you. 

“I’m close” you managed to articulate, your voice strained. 

Heeseung nods, his body feeling like he’s on the edge, too. He speeds up his movements, his cock pounding into your tired core at an almost demonic pace. His own senses are overwhelmed by you, his mind and body consumed with desire and pleasure. 

He gasps, his mouth moving down to your chest “I’m close too. Just a little more, you can do it. Just a little more” his voice a low, raspy whisper. 

You grip his hand tightly, a low moan escaping your lips as Heeseung pushes himself closer to the edge. You were hanging on by a thread, desperate for release, desperate for him. 

“I can’t hold back” he groaned, his thighs shaking, control slipping him completely “I’m going to fill you up so deep with my cum, baby. Don’t move” 

Heeseung took your heart, his mouth stained red. He kisses you with that mouth, he’s all over you again. He can no longer control himself, each movement throwing him over the edge, his own bravery breaking as you look so much sweeter and smaller under him. 

With one last thrust, his body shuddered as he shot his load of cum inside your pulsating walls. His body collapsed on top of you, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. He continued to move inside you, his fingers holding onto your body, helping you chase your own high. 

You close your eyes, releasing your own arousal on his length. Your body shivers and arches beneath him. He groans against your neck, gripping your hip tighter, his own body trembling with pleasure and exertion. 

He buries his face into your neck, his breathing slowly starting to even out after a few moments. He can feel your breathing start to even out under him as you came down from your own climax. He held you close, letting the waves of otherworldly pleasure wash over the both of you.

“You were so good” he whispers, his voice still laced with a hint of breathlessness “I love you, so much. I love you so much it hurts” 

He couldn’t help it. Those three words have never fallen from his lips, and this time he couldn't blame it on the slip of his tongue. Every bone in his body, his flesh, his tissue, the sinews that bound him together, it flowed in his veins- the uncontrollable desire to love you. 

His words struck you to the core. It felt so real, Sunghoon’s confession long gone as you couldn't help but reciprocate his words. With the way he cared for you, it couldn't be true. Heeseung wouldn't use you, he loved you, and you loved him. 

 You look down at him, and this time he looks much less scary. His eyes aren't so dark and hooded, his hair is messy, and his lips are puffed out.

It’s been so long since you first saw him, your mind completely swapping the first impression he made on you, to something much sweeter and beautiful. You remembered him so well, he was your precious, doe-eyed baby deer. He was never wrong, he was never the bad guy. 

The world turned on him, he was innocent. He didn't have a drinking problem, he wasn't smoking too much, he just gave into his teenage curiosity. 

He continues to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around you, his face buried into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, savoring the feeling of you beneath him. 

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of shame and regret. “I’m so sorry” he repeats and you look at him, confused. 

“What? Is everything okay?” you ask, caressing his hair, twirling small pieces in your fingers “You're scaring me” 

He sighs, his heart breaking “Sunghoon was right. I told him to do it. I told him to tell you the truth” 

taglist: @deobitifull @yunhoswrldddd @parksunghoonsgf @itgirlalisaa @alienqbrain @cyjhhyj @missycheif1404

[kurishiri]

95K┊Dark If —Harrison Gray—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the 95k story for dark if (part 1), featuring harry. i think it is “required reading” to understand the world of this event, but they set it as the 95k bonus story, so i'm translating it. please note this does not necessarily have a happy end.

— cw: mentions of murder and death, angst.

Every story had an established plot, so to speak.

For example, in Cinderella, the prince fell in love at first sight with Cinderella, and they lived happily ever after.

Or if we took Snow White, the kiss from the prince would awaken her, and then they lived happily ever after.

‘It’s boring if everything goes as planned?’ That’s fine, since it’s the type of story most people want.

But, I wonder when this all went down...when did this fairytale world start to become so twisted?

And also, what had to have gone down for me to end up in this role of guiding the keyman to this world and through those twists?

Tonight, once again, the keyman who had wandered into this fairytale world tried to run away, returning to reality.

In other words, they were not the keyman, but rather they just happened to get caught up in all of this.

Victor: It seems this time as well, they were unable to find the missing thing.

Harrison the Lying Fox: They’ll just think of it all as a bad dream and forget about it anyway.

H: Besides...

Victor: ‘It’s best to quickly forget about this world and live in reality’?

This mysterious man named Victor, who wandered this world, had a shrewd look as he smiled, and as usual, such a look irritated me.

Just when I thought of throwing even a single insult his way, I heard the sound of footsteps.

(Ahh, here we go again...)

(Someone was ‘summoned’ by this world.)

Victor: Oh, where are you headed off to? There’s a guest here.

Harrison the Lying Fox: I’ll look from afar. There’s not much point in talking face to face anyway.

Victor: I see. Then do as you like.

——And then, the footsteps gradually grew louder, until they stopped.

Victor: Welcome to the twisted fairytale world...

V: A guest has come~~ Yippeee~~!

There stood a figure, petrified from what looked like anxiety.

Kate: Um, where... I... just now I was at the bookstore, and...

(Oh jeez... she’s so frightened.)

Kate: Uhm, I’m in the middle of my letter carrier duties. So I would like to return to Kingsley Books...

Victor: Now that may be a bit difficult.

Kate: Huh?

Victor’s explanation, something he had repeated thousands of times over, flowed smoothly.

How he selfishly wanted her to find the ‘missing thing’ in the fairytale world.

And then, the one named Kate was sent to the twisted fairytale world in order to find that very thing.

Victor: Harrison. Are you going to take a peek into the story?

Harrison the Lying Fox: You can stop with the act. I know you know as well that I’ve got no choice but to.

The lying fox was always a despised presence within a fairy tale.

And that was the role I bore. It was my fate to spend my life serving this world so that it could return to normal.

(I can freely traverse through any fairytale world.)

(But if I were to flip a coin on it, it would mean I would never be able to become a character in any fairy tale.)

Despite the fact I was bearing this troublesome fate, I myself couldn’t correct any of these stories... it was ironic.

Victor: Well then, have a good time. May you find the best happy end this time.

—— Traversing... ——

Kate: I’m... Cinderella?

Having been sent to the world of Cinderella, Kate wasted little time in starting her search for the missing thing.

She was trying so hard I couldn’t help but feel fed up.

But——

Stepmother: It’s because of children like you that my own girls don’t get chosen by the prince!

Kate: P-please stop...

Stepmother: You...someone like you...!

So that one of her own children would become the prince’s fiancée, the stepmother schemed and killed Kate.

Once again, this fairy tale reached a bad end.

And then, Kate was taken back to reality from the fairytale world.

—— In reality ——

Kate: Huh? I... what was I doing again?

K: ...I feel as though I was sleeping for a long time...

I had come to realize in the long time I had been observing that if a keyman were to die in the fairytale world and reach a bad end,

they would be forcefully returned to reality like this.

And——all of what happened in that world would be wiped clean from their memories.

But, in most cases, their bodies would still remember, and they would leave, as though to run away.

It was like they were saying they didn’t want to see a bad dream again.

(Alright now, you get out of here quickly too.)

(Go back to that peaceful everyday life filled with normalcy.)

Kate: ………

After standing up with a bit of a wobble, Kate once again reached for the fallen book.

(………Huh? What in the world are you doing?)

And then, as if trying her best to remember something precious, she furrowed her brows,

and then, once again, Kate was sucked into the book like she was being summoned by it.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Wh——you idiot.

And so, Kate — once again — found herself repeating the same exchange with Victor,

landing in the world of Alice in Wonderland.

In this world, the bell signifying the Queen of Heart’s judgment resonated.

Kate: I’m looking for the missing thing in this world.

K: That is, the thing that’s lacking in the world. If that is——a peaceful life...

Liam the Cheshire Cat: Then you wouldn’t want to approach the Queen of Hearts. Well, all is up to you, Alice.

And so, Kate once again tried so hard to find the missing thing, it was laughable.

(Why do you feel the need to go so far?)

(...Ah, jeez, if you get hurt again that’s all on you.)

This time, in this story as well, Kate was unable to find the missing thing.

And, never learning from what had happened, she would continue to choose this cycle.

Over, and over again, she would roam within these twisted fairy tales.

At one time, she was Snow White.

But, she was killed by a foreign prince named Natalia, who was aiming to conquer the country that Queen Elbert ruled, covering for him.

And at another time, she was Sleeping Beauty.

She was cursed by a fairy to ‘prick her finger on a spinning wheel ten years later, triggering the curse,’

but before that time, she had passed away from an illness.

Such events would repeat themselves, over and over again.

And, over and over again, I would watch over Kate.

Today as well, Kate was in a twisted fairytale world, continuing her search.

At this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care about what fairy tale she was in.

It was just watching over her was my job.

Today, it had been raining in this forest nonstop since the morning, and Kate’s shoulders grew more soaked.

When I saw her body trembling in the cold, I couldn’t bear it...

——And, for the first time, I approached Kate.

Without an utterance, I held an umbrella above her.

Kate: ...?

Harrison the Lying Fox: The rain won’t stop for a while. Wanna come in?

Kate: T-thank you?

Harrison the Lying Fox: Haha, why phrase it like a question?

Kate: Um... can I ask who you are?

(My name...)

Harrison the Lying Fox: That kind of thing doesn’t really matter, does it. Since we’re going to be parting ways when the rain stops anyway.

Kate: Is that so. Yes... I suppose so...

Kate looked a bit lonely, before thanking me again.

Under a single umbrella, I looked up at the sky, the rain falling non-stop.

(I hate the rain.)

(...But, just for today, I wouldn’t mind if it never stopped.)

(Because, then I can be together with you... for just a little longer.)

The ‘thanks’ from Kate made a strange warmth seep into my heart.

And then, once again, Kate was killed in the fairy tale.

While I’d seen her die countless times, for some reason, this time made me feel a pang in my heart for the first time.

—— Time skip ——

Victor: Oh my, Harrison. It’s not every day I see you here.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Could you stop this already?

Victor: ...I take it this is about Kate?

Harrison the Lying Fox: .........

Victor: That, I can’t do.

Harrison the Lying Fox: And why’s that?

Victor: Because, for some reason, Kate herself ends up choosing to come back here over and over. This is a first for me as well.

V: And I find myself thinking, about Kate...

Harrison the Lying Fox: What about her? Hurry and say it already.

Victor: Perhaps she may be the true keyman?

V: Harrison? Where are you headed?

Harrison the Lying Fox: ...To Kate.

Victor: I see... do be careful.

Kate was in the world of Cinderella, like she was the first time.

Tonight, Kate was participating in the ball, and she must introduce herself to the prince.

She had a fairy godmother alter her appearance, and I thought she looked more beautiful than any of the other participants here.

That was no lie, either, since the eyes of any who passed by would be taken by her.

But, Kate, the gentle soul she was, could not bring herself to approach the prince directly.

(Ahh... if she doesn’t speak up, he’ll get stolen by other women.)

(Jeez, always making more work for me.)

I quietly approached, and I dropped an empty glass from a table right adjacent to Kate,

causing a shattering sound to resonate through the dance hall, and everyone in the venue turned their attention on Kate.

Kate: Ah, wh—? Me? I-I’m so sorry...

(Look over there, the prince has finally noticed you.)

Prince: Um, are you hurt anywhere?

When I confirmed the prince had reached out to Kate, I left the venue.

After all, a lying fox was hardly suited for such a place.

I descended the long staircase myself.

(I don’t think that would be enough to change the course of the story.)

(Kate, go and find the missing thing. This time, for sure.)

When I wished for this, a bitter feeling bloomed in my chest, as though I had bitten on sand.

(I see, if Kate were to find a happy ending, I would no longer be needed.)

Before I knew it, I had watched over Kate for quite a while.

At some point, Kate had already become a part of my everyday.

(——What am I saying, with something so out of character like how a farewell would be lonely.)

Trying to shake off these conflicting emotions, I continued to walk, when...

Kate: Uhm...

(...Kate?)

When I turned around, I saw Kate running down, holding the hem of her dress up as she did.

(...What happened with the prince?)

(Why’s she chasing after me?)

Many words welled up in my throat, but I pushed them all down.

After all, in Kate’s memory, I was not there.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Did you need something?

Kate: Ah, um...

Harrison the Lying Fox: ...?

Kate: Have... we met somewhere before, by any chance...?

Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)

Kate’s eyes pierced through me, like she was begging for the truth.

We stared at each other for several seconds, which felt more like an eternity.

But, the one who broke it first was me.

Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. It’s probably just you.

(It’s alright. I’m good at telling lies.)

Kate: I...see. Sorry about that, for saying something so strange. Please forget it.

Kate put up a forced smile before she returned from where she came.

And I, much like a fool, couldn’t take my eyes off of her back.

(Hey, Kate. Having watched over you all this time, I’ve come to realize something.)

The ‘missing thing’ that Kate had always been searching for in these fairytale worlds...

(That is——the protagonist.)

(Kate. You yourself are the missing thing in its truest form.)

Had Kate followed her own heart, choosing a path to become happy,

I was sure the twisted fairy tale would reach its end.

But, when I tried to tell Kate,

Harrison the Lying Fox: Gugh, hah... gh...

Something seemed to stop words from forming in my voice.

And, as though mocking at this eternal, twisted fate from afar, the clock struck twelve.

Harrison the Lying Fox: .........

(I can’t become your prince, nor can I become your lover.)

(And, someday, you may end up finding your happy end.)

(But... for now... even if it’s just this moment——)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Hey, you there. ...Heading that way could spell out danger, you know?

Kate: And you are?

Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. More importantly, where are you planning to go?

(...Let me watch over you, while holding the key of this secret in my hand.)

That night, as strange as it was, I had a dream.

In my fairy tale, one that remained without a name to call it, Kate suddenly appeared and said——

Kate: Harrison!

Harrison the Lying Fox: How do you know my name?

Kate: Of course I know. Because I’ve always been searching for you.

Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)

Kate: ...Harrison, I like you. Would you become my happy end?

(Ahh... I see now.)

(So this is the most convenient dream for me.)

A bitter, yet unbearably sweet feeling blossomed in my heart.

(If this isn’t a reality, then I won’t have to lie anymore, right?)

I touched Kate’s wrist, and then brought her in an embrace.

(That’s right, I had always... wanted to hug you like this.)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Me too.

H: I’ve always wanted to reach the best end with you, too.

(Kate, I no longer want to see you crying.)

(I think you’re much better suited with a carefree smile.)

Harrison the Lying Fox: Kate. I like you.

I wished that time could stop, just a little bit longer,

for while this momentary dream was fleeting, I had never had seen a better one before.

Fin.

masterlist 🗝️ ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[primreaperstuff]

Trying to figure out what's under the Jhesselbraum crossed out text in the Book of Bill

Dunno if anybody's done this before but I figured I'd give it a shot. This is the original image.

I first went and found the font used for this. I think it's DIN Condensed Bold. This font unfortunately costs money to get onto your computer, but it is included with Adobe Suite software so if you have Photoshop or are silly like me and used Illustrator, you can access it (I know Illustrator isn't great for this stuff but I generally use GIMP and didn't feel like installing Photoshop for this one thing).

And this is the image with the letters I can figure out.

If I got this right, there are a couple of things in here that are huge.

Bill thinks (or at least thought) very highly of Jhess. He describes her as the smartest Henchmaniac. Depending on how you interpret that comment about the eyes, he either let her into the group despite not liking how many eyes she has or has sour grapes about her leaving.

Jhess did a ton of the heavy lifting for the portal project. Bill is often presumed to simply have the multiversal know-how for a lot of the physics and stuff behind the portal, but this implies that Jhess was actually the first one to figure much of this stuff out and Bill went off of what she told him.

I also want to draw your attention to a tiny detail I noticed in the name Bill gives her. It's so small that it might just be me just seeing a pattern where none exists, but I thought it worth mentioning anyway.

My first thought was, obviously, that the name given was "JESS." The first two letters are clearly J and E and the character is called Jheselbraum so that would track. But then I noticed this tiny squarish region that does not line up with how the red pen's stroke normally tapers off and is slightly whiter than the pen. It is exactly where another letter would be... and it does not line up with DIN's capital S! The capital letters in DIN that it lines up with are B, D, E, F, H, I, L, M, N, P, R, and T. The name looks like it cannot exceed 5 characters given the position of the pen stroke.

In terms of plausible names in there, these are the options:

Jeb

Jed/Jedi

Jet/Jett/Jete

Jeff

Jerry

Jerk (lol)

Jelly

Jem

Jen/Jenn

The majority of the plausible names, as you can tell, are either masculine or ungendered. Which makes me wonder-- is Jheselbraum the Unswerving trans??

Because that implies a lot. For one, I have to question why Bill is deadnaming her in that case. Is it to be hurtful or did he just legitimately never figure it out? She went on the run from him so it's likely she never updated him on her live-name. (And I mean, let's face it, "Jheselbraum" is not that far off from some of the live-names trans people choose for themselves. You guys are reviving antiquated names one transition at a time. \pos)

He also speaks rather admiringly of her, which would be odd if he was trying to insult her with her deadname, so I think it's really highlighting how little Bill actually knows-- and might underlie the real reason he crossed it out. He literally just found out she transitioned and he doesn't even know her live-name. Really undermines the whole "unlimited being with knowledge and answers" thing he claims about himself.

It would also explain what drew her to Bill in the first place. Bill already believes in 14 million genders, and he was offering to smash all the norms and rules. What have norms and rules ever done for the trans community? Seldom anything good is my impression.

Hell, maybe she wound up doing her own sex change surgery, because nobody else would do it for her, and that's why she has the skills to install a metal plate in Ford's head. (Pure speculation of course)

Or maybe I'm just overthinking a print error or false pattern or something! Who knows?

Anyway, I thought this was interesting enough to share. Not important my tailbone lol.

[windvexer]

what's your opinion on pop culture witchcraft? i think it seems really fun and cool im just not sure how exactly a fictional god will manifest in the "real" world? i was just curious on what you thought :p thank you for your time!

I think that pop culture witchcraft is beautiful and sacred and I think more people should get into it!

My views on the intersection of popular culture (aka, the dominant cultural beliefs and creations at this moment in time) and witchcraft originate from the fact that when I began doing a lot of energy work, I saw a lot of stuff as video game characters & assets.

If I would binge any video game, for the next little while, a lot of my energy readings would be output in the symbols and lore from that game.

E.g., a pokemon binge, seeing Gengar near the querent: "Yes, you're being haunted by a ghost."

A DAO binge, seeing a dryad writing a letter to the querent: "A tree wants to talk to you."

These experiences have deeply influenced my beliefs on the nature of psychism, communing with the spirit world, and divination as a whole. It has inspired my beliefs on how to work with divinatory tools, especially my concepts of choosing your own symbol sets to work with.

After all, an upright triangle is so abstract, but a charmander? For many of us, that is a deeply rooted symbol of fire indeed! And I can't imagine how a triangle might act if it needs to be revived and balanced in my life, but I can surely visualize a charmander feeling sick and cold, or desperately trying to stack and balance heavy boxes.

This inspired me to consider the intersection of popular culture and the experiential nature of witchcraft. After all, aren't so many of us deeply imprinted on and influenced by what culture has told us about magic and spirits? Where is the line in the sand between how culture makes us interact with magic (path), and how culture makes us interact with magic (practice)?

Let me tell you a story!!

There is some internet monster named Momo. Momo has a *very* scary face (to me at least) so be warned if you google.

But when this story starts, I had never heard of Momo. I had never seen a picture of Momo or heard her name. Yes? Yes.

Now one time, I was doing an energy reading for a person, and I saw a horrifying monster woman with huge eyes and a twisted smile like a V slashed across her face, and not only this, but the horrifying monster woman was standing over the querent's bed, watching them sleep.

As a reader with about an ounce of wisdom, I knew much better than to say, "hey, a horrifying monster is watching you while you sleep." Because that is a dick thing to say to anyone.

As I continued watching to try and gain more information, it struck me that this monster woman wasn't threatening at all. She didn't have bad vibes. In fact she seemed neutral, or perhaps even an ally. She was just watching the person sleep.

I couldn't help but notice, however, that I could see her face so clearly. So distinctly. So I googled something like, "big smile scary woman face."

And there she was: Momo! The exact monster I was seeing. It was a startling moment, made all the more strange by the fact that this wasn't some monster of mythical lore or legend. It was like, a TikTok trend or something.

Finally I had to tell the querent something. Now y'all this happened some years ago and I don't remember exactly how it went down, but it was like this:

"Hey, someone is watching you sleep. The form is scary looking but they don't seem threatening at all. I googled it and it looks exactly like an internet urban legend named Momo."

"What? My cat?"

"No, it's a woman, an urban legend named Momo."

"No, my cat Momo. My cat is named Momo. She watches me while I sleep."

So to answer your question, Anon:

I expect that a fictional god can manifest at least as bizarrely as a real cat, I believe that the simple phrase "real world" is an artifact that fits into few reliquaries of the occult, and I think that pop culture witchcraft is absolutely fabulous.

[thepringlesofblood]

Find Out Your Ceresian Senator Name!

(made with love, the d20 gang put a lot of work into diversifying character names, & as I was doing my etymology post I noticed similarities but no clear formula so I thought I’d write one for funsies)

First Name: The first letter of the street you grew up on (if you didn’t grow up on a street feel free to use a town/city name, or a landmark!).

I included alternates for gender reasons - a/o means the name can end with either a or o depending on your preference, e.g. Emilio vs Emilia. You can probably also throw an -e at the end of some of them if (like me) you wanna be a bit nonbinary about it.

A - Aurelius (Adria, Andrea) B - Bianca (Bacchus, Basilla) C - Cara (Cassius, Camila/o) D - Dominic (Donatella/o, Daniela) E - Emanuel (Emanuela, Emilia/o,  Eduardo) F - Francisco (Fabrizia/o, Fiero) G - Giuseppe (Graciela, Gio) H - Hercules (Hero, Hermes) I - Ignazia/o (Imelda, Isabella) J - Jupiter (Jiovanni, Juno) K - Katarina (Kronos, Celeste) L - Lorenzo (Luca, Loretta) M - Marco (Messina, Manuela) N - Nunzio (Natalia, Nico) O - Oliverio (Ouranos, Roberta/o) P - Patrizia/o (Paula/o, Pallas) Q - Quirinus (Pietro, Ricarda/o) R - Rizzo (Rafaela/Rafael, Renata) S - Silvio (Sabina/e, Serafina/o) T - Titian (Tullia/o, Terra) U - Ulysses (Urania/Uranus, Rosetta) V - Valentina/o (Venus, Vesta, Vesuvio) W - Luigi (Mario, Rosalina) X - Xanto (Romeo, Diana, Apollo) Y - Ylenia (Saturn/Saturnus, Minerva) Z - Zappa (Mars, Melete, Diana)

Last name: The last letter of your favorite food

A - Bucatini B - Capellini C - Bavette D - Matriciani E - Pappardelle F - Scialatelli G - Spaghettini H - Tagliatelle I - Trenetti J - Vermicelli K - Anelli L - Cascatelli M - Castellane N - Cavatappi O - Farfalle P - Garganelli   Q - Passatelli R - Paccheri S - Rigatoni T - Strozzapretti U - Testaroli V - Cannelloni   W - Agnolini X - Cappaletti Y - Fagottini Z - Sacchettoni

Voila! Now just put “Senator” (or another Roman govt position if you want) in front of it. I’m Senator Andrea Trenetti!

I also did some optional funsies for those of us with dice we never get to use:

Roll 1d20 


If it lands on a 1, you are straight up a loaf of bread. use the Bread Table under the cut


If it lands on a 2-10, you are a pasta dish. Use the last name chart for your first name, and use the Pasta Dish Table under the cut for your last

If you roll a nat 20, you are may choose b/w

a popular snack food. Use the Snack Table under the cut
. 

you can also use the first name chart and use the snack table for your last name if you want

a Ceresian folk deity. not a senator anymore, but arguably funnier. Use the Deity Table under the cut

otherwise, use tables above as normal.


In The Ravening War, all of the senators also got “tribune” titles like “Tribune of Triscutia” - if you want one of those, you can either:

Use the last name table but use first letter of your favorite food

Use either the Bread, Pasta Dish, or Snack table under the cut

Bread Table

Roll 1d12 or use your birth month

1. Panettone (you have a little Candian on your mother’s side of the family) 2. Muffuletta 3. Pane rustico 4. Panino 5. Pita 6. Tortano 7. Baguette 8. Ciambella 9. Fugassa 10. Friselle 11. Crescentina 12. Boule

Pasta Dish Table

Roll 1d20 or how many mozzarella sticks do you think you could eat in one sitting? (if you can’t eat mozzarella sticks imagine carrot sticks instead)

1. Arrabiatta 2. Amatriciana 3. Bolognese 4. Capresi   5. Bottarga 6. Indiavolati 7. Siracusani 8. Scarpariello 9. Boscaiola 10. Fagioli 11. Lucchesi 12. di Mare 13. Napoletana 14. Puttanesca 15. Ragu   16. Sorrentina 17. Tartufo 18. Valtellina 19. Zucca 20. Cacio-pepe

Snack Table

Roll 1d6, or rate the last movie you saw from 0-5 stars (or 1-6 if you don’t want to do math)

Tostito(s)

if you like you can also use Fritos or Dorito(s)

Chex (you can add a last name that describes the kind of Chex if you want)

Pepperidge (like Pepperidge farms)

Ritz

Kellogg (you can add a last name that describes the kind of Kellogg’s food item if you want)

General Mills

you can forgo the “Senator” title if you so chose and just be “General Mills”

the ancient Roman govt Ceresia is based on had a lot of interplay between the military and the government so like. Generals still have govt. sway.

you could also just be “Senator Mills”

Deity Table

Roll 1d6 or tbh just pick which one you like they’re all fun

you are now known as Ben the Original, but you have never forgotten your past life as Uncle Ben.

you are Little Miss Sunbeam, a maiden goddess of light and happiness

you are the Triple God, the Holy Trinity, and your aspects are Snap, Crackle, and Pop

you are a Keebler elf, one of a large family of forest spirits hidden deep in the mountains on the border of Candia and Ceresia

you are Umaemon, an otherworldly cat-like being with unknowable powers and dual aspects of both cat and human.

you are the Pillsbury Doughboy. 

[faerii-shin]

"Concealed Destiny" Part 1/2

Shinsuke Kita x Fem! Y/N

Part 1 | Part 2

summary : “My life is nothing without you in it. If you were not here, I wouldn’t have a purpose.”

warnings : none

genre : Royalty AU, sfw ( fluff & soft )

word count: 472 words 2,668 characters

a/n : Sorry for being away with not a single notice! Here's a mini storyline before I post Part 3 of my Oikawa series. Tysm & Enjoy 🤍

meanings: p/n - prefecture ( place ) name | Hyōgo - where Inarizaki High is from

‘To Y/N L/N of the P/N Prefecture. You are reading this letter on behalf of Prince Shinsuke Kita, son of the king and next to the throne and royal heir.’  Thoughts went ravaging in her mind, why would she be receiving this? However, despite what she was thinking about, the petite girl decided to continue reading. ‘As of yesterday, it was decided that a Masquerade Ball would be held to determine a specific choice needed to be made. It has come of time for the Prince to finally find his match, his soulmate, his queen, after multiple mishaps.’  ‘You were chosen above other young ladies in your prefecture. For your cooperation, please come, Saturday 7 o’clock pm. We will be expecting you in your best attire. In any case you will need help for preparation, upon presenting this letter to the Hyōgo Castle gates, you will be allowed entrance. Thank you.’ ‘Signed Yours Truly, the Assistant and Personal Advisor of the Royal Family of Hyōgo’  In the letter, something was attached to it. A pair of lustrous white lace gloves.  Written on a smaller portion, were these words: ‘Use this to be paired with your gown.’ Rumors were spread across kingdoms. She knew there were multiple candidates, but all were rejected and that she was probably the last one. A sense of happiness filled her heart; she was never a shining light in the prefecture. Every time she tried to strike a conversation with her classmates — or even her "friends", they always looked down on her like a wad of gum stuck to their Mary Janes'. Even though she tried to force the butterflies in her stomach out of her mouth, she was speechless.  Instead, a flush of pink crossed her face. She gingerly picked up the gloves. Before she could break her gaze, a water droplet landed on her head and it started to drizzle with rain. Gripping the gloves and the letter, she turned around quickly in order not to get wet, but stumbled into a passerby. It was a man of average height, wearing white gloves seemingly similar to what she received.  "My apologies, Sir." She told him as she picked up his wet cloak that fell to the ground. "It’s not a problem at all." He replied. That voice. She felt like she had heard it somewhere before. Except, where? Y/N looked at the man with shock while returning the cloak. She immediately recognized him as the Prince. "P-Prince Shinsuke, my sincere apologies again. I could take this with me and get it cleaned." She said, turning around in embarrassment leaving him standing there seeing that he had an umbrella with him for spare use. "Wait Ms! It’s alright, I’ll get it cleaned myself." He replied back, taking her wrist, allowing the umbrella to cover them both.

The End. Thanks for choosing to read this!

[layviyu]

FLUFF ALPHABET — A, F, H, J, L, P & U WITH AKITO

short desc: letters a, f, h, j, l, p, u of the fluff alphabet with akito there's not much to explain

type: just hcs

characters: shinonome akito

genre: fluff

note: i used this list as a reference; my friend was the one who picked out the letters (she had no idea what they meant)

Attractive (What do they find attractive about their partner?)

akito surely would be one to find multiple thing attractive about his partner, and would be your biggest admirer, even if he won't outright tell you. but the thing he likes the most are your eyes. he's always found them gorgeous; he could easily lose himself in them (and he has definitely done that before). he likes it when they light up when you see something you like, and he absolutely adores it when you look at him with such affectionate eyes.

Feelings (When did they know they’re in love?)

sometimes, akito would notice how his heart beat faster whenever he was around you, or that he got flustered more easily with you. the thought of possibly having a crush on you seemed impossible to him — you were simply a close friend, and nothing more than that, right? well, that definitely changed once he noticed you started to spend too much time with toya. he couldn't help getting somewhat jealous at the idea of you preferring toya over him. that's where the truth finally sunk in. holy shit. he really has a crush you, doesn't he? more than that, he's in love with you.

Honesty (Do they have secrets they hide from their S/O?)

akito has always liked to be open with you. he doesn't like keeping secrets, and wants your relationship to be safe for you to be honest with each other. unless he starts to overwork himself once again — he knows how you act when it comes to his health. whenever you notice he seemed to have a hoarse voice, or if he seemed more tired than usual, he'd just brush it off, saying it was nothing to worry about. however, when you find why he's acting like that and confront him about it, he would apologize and say he didn't want to make you worry about him.

Jealousy (Do they get jealous? How do they deal with it?)

akito is definitely on the jealous side. it's not rare for you to see him acting more annoyed or clingy after you've spent some time with someone else. of course, if you ask him if he's jealous, he'll be quick to deny it and will claim you're imagining things. he trusts you and believes you won't cheat, but sometimes, he lets himself getting a little insecure, asking himself if someday you'll find someone better and leave him for them. if goes overboard with his jealousy, he'll definitely apologize, though — he'll never want you to view him as controlling or possessive.

Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

even though it wasn't intentional, akito was the first one. in a small discussion about why akito was so bothered over you spending some time with toya. what was up with him, anyway? he never acted like this before. with the banter getting more agitated, akito ended up blurting out: "it's because i love you, you idiot!". you were taken aback by the sudden confession and he turns his face away from you, his cheeks flaring red.

Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

initially, akito wasn't very fond of pet names. he only called you by your second name, but once ena started bugging him to be more affectionate with you, he gave it some thought, and settled for some you ended up liking. his personal favorite is definitely "babe", though.

Understanding (How well do they know their partner?)

akito is definitely a very observant person. he catches on what you like quickly, and sometimes, seems to know you better than you know yourself. this shines especially if there's a restaurant or a cafe you go to frequently — he knows your order by heart. most of the time he also names your order, and when you ask how he knew what you were going to order, he just dismisses it as you just ordering the same thing every time. however, he likes paying attention to the little details about you — even the things you thought he'd never notice.

layviyu — do not repost my work on any other social media

posted on: 01/04/2024 — last edited on: 01/04/2024

[fic-dumpster]

The dead can give life

Characters: Ghost!Baji, Reader(Y/N), Bonten, Toman | 1257 words

Warnings: manga spoilers, mentions of death, spirits, supernatural stuff, violence, grammar mistakes, idk mediocre writing. There is not a pairing yet… there won’t be… :P idk… ta-da? Trick or treat?

“Could you please go home? Heaven? Hell! For all I care,” he noticed that you could see him, so he had followed after you.

“Nop.” the long-haired boy with pointy canines paid you no mind.

“Look, not because I am the only person who can see you-“ you began to say

“Yes, actually, that’s the only reason.” he contradicted your unfinished statement.

“Okay, okay. Then what’s your name?” you finally gave up.

“Baji,” he answered.

“Okay, Baji. How did you die?” You inquired as you lifted an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story…” he sighed, looking at the black uniform he’s wearing.

“I have time.” you saw a flash of sadness pass through his eyes, so you decided to lend an ear.

-

The capability of seeing dead people has always been part of you. Now with more than 20 years on your shoulders, a thing that is horrifying for some became common to you. With time you learned that ignoring those spirits was for the best. Except for that demon child of a ghost you met once upon a time on a Halloween eve.

Oh, how you didn’t suspect that this Baji Keisuke character would give your life a new meaning.

You’ve met this… almost friendly ghost of a 14-year-old boy. You say almost because he tends to be kind of aggressive, most of the time. It was October 31st, 2017, when you first met Baji. He seemed somewhat... lost? Maybe that's why he followed you.

Baji, he said his name was, told you about his life when he was alive. You listened to the fights he won and the very unusual adventures he shared with his friends. You also heard his regrets and, finally, how he died by his own hand. ‘A very tragic ending for such a colorful life,’ you thought.

You took pity for the boy and suggested what most souls sought. Closure. You offered to write letters for those he wished to communicate something or say goodbye appropriately. You said a letter because talking to people wasn't your forte. After a while, he accepted.

-

“You look like a demon today and every day,” you grumbled. Baji, the ghost, you might add, pulled your covers for the fifth time this morning.

“And you like a crazy woman, now hurry up! We have a lot of places to go.” this is the most excited you’ve seen the ghost boy.

“Yah! Okay! Go and wait in the kitchen; I need to change.” sushing Baji out, you heard him murmur about you being a grumpy old lady. Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your closet.

It's been a month since you've met Baji, and he was a handful. It took you a month to write the seven letters he needed. And that leads you to today, the big day of deliveries. Seeing that most letters had a name and address, you could easily mail them, except for one, but Baji insisted on delivering them with you.

As you walked towards your first delivery, you remembered a conversation with your ghost friends. It happened a couple of days after meeting him.

Baji asked how you had so much time in your hands to help a dead boy. He kept questioning you about family, friends, and even pets. But your answer didn’t seem to be of his liking. You explained how everyone in your family thought you were sick in the head and how because of your ghost-seeing tendencies, you never had friends. Baji apologized for asking, but you really didn’t mind. It was your reality.

A hand waving in front of your face woke you up from your memories. “Y/N, let's check one more time. I'm kind of anxious,” confessed Baji.

“Okay,” you said as you pulled the letters from your bag. “But be fast, please. This is not a good place, gang territory and all that,” you huffed.

You read the names out loud so Baji could see that every letter was there. “Pah-chin, Mitsuya, Draken, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Takemichi, and Manjiro,” you finished.

A sudden commotion made both of you turn towards the sound of people murmuring and flashes of cameras. At first, you couldn't focus. The waves of a feeling of demise hit your body, and as you blinked, the image in front of you cleared up.

A sea of the dead.

“Y/N! That's Mikey,” you gave Baji a weird look, “I mean Manjiro! The one with the tattoo on his nape and short white hair.” he pointed towards the men in suits that were leaving a club called FNN.

The mass of spirits seemed to follow after this Mikey or Manjiro and his men.

“Are you sure? That doesn't look like a Manjiro to me,” you said, scared of the energy that surrounded those men. You saw countless spirits following the group, and that was never a good sign in your book.

“How would you know?” He threw you a confused side glance, “Let's go now! Just give it to him, and we continue on our way,” Baji was excited since you never found Sano Manjiro’s address or any information about him, and he thought he would have to make you ask Draken or anyone and then wait last to see him. “Go!”

“Okay! I’m going!” you walked towards the group. Were you afraid? Yes. Did you know what you were doing? Hell no.

Trying to avoid eye contact with the souls surrounding the group of men, you made it to the man in flip flops that, according to Baji, was Sano Manjiro. You don't know how none noticed you, yet you slid your way between tall and big bodies towards him.

“Hi! Sano Manjiro, right? This is for you!” you squicked at the intimidating flip-flop-wearing man as you bowed and extended your hands with the letter in between them. “Baji Keisuke ordered me to!” and then, as soon as you felt he touched the envelope, you ran for your life.

You ran and ran, hoping that Baji saw you bolt out of there and had decided to follow you. Something in you told you to go; it screamed danger, and with your experience, that voice was never wrong.

“Y/N?!? Are you okay? What happened?” Baji appeared, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you abruptly stopped at his poor attempt of lightening the mood.

“Very funny,” you sarcastically responded, “Baji, your friend must be crazy! Didn't you see the amount of death that surrounds him?” just remembering the feeling sent shivers down your spine.

“So we continue?” he blatantly ignored your concerns. How does a ghost ignore other ghosts?

You gave a no for an answer, explaining that the more contact you had with spirits, the more exhausted you felt. And today, you ran twice through an army of lost souls. Now it makes sense to him why you always nap so much. He understood your situation. Pah-chin, Mitsuya, Draken, Chifuyu, Kazutora, and Takemichi can wait.

Still, there was something else bothering you. Like... The alarms in your head didn't turn off. On the contrary, they screamed even louder.

-

“Boss, we have her address and a background chek.” a man with scars in the corners of his lips spoke. “No history or contact with Baji Keisuke,”

“How should we proceed?” A man with a single red eye and a scar in the corner of the other asked.

“Bring her here,” Mikey said before munching on a heart-shaped Manju.

[cc-writesfor2dcharacters]

hi, babe! yeah, i think we're all simping so hard for him slakslakslskks because i am such a sucker for wakasa!!!!!! and thanks to your request, my imagination ran wild :D hope u enjoy this one!

also, y'all can request sum boyfriend headcanons of your chosen character,, but make sure to read the rules first.... you can choose other characters from a different fandom :p

𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

It's been so long since I've established that Wakasa would call you his "queen" and "princess". Because he likes giving you pet names. It differs from his mood. But, if he ever calls you by your first name, it's either he's pissed off, mad at you, or he was jealous of someone.

And, speaking of jealousy...

He doesn't clearly show it, but he's POSSESSIVE as heck!!! Every time you two go out, he always has one of his hands holding onto your waist. It's his way to establish that he is your boyfriend and no one else could have you but him.

When you do point out that he's jealous, oH MAN... TSUNDERE MODE FOR THIS MYSTERIOUS MAN.

"What are you talking about, gorgeous? I don't even remember that guy you're telling me that I was jealous of." However, he'll remember that guy's name and face until the end of the world.

If we talk about the start of it all, for him, you were the sunshine he needed to protect at all cost.

Being one of the most prominent delinquents in Japan, his enemies saw you as an opportunity to get to him. But, he'll be sure to beat kill anyone who gets in your way.

He fell in love with you so deeply that he thinks there's no turning back. Although, if we're talking about HOW he fell in love with you. To be honest, he doesn't know. All he knows is that it happened and it's the most beautiful thing to ever happen to him.

He isn't the type of guy that your father used to warn you about. He's the type of guy that your father would admire. Read this headcanon and look for Wakasa's part. Your father absolutely fell in love with him, maybe even more than you did.

Speaking of your parents, they trust Wakasa so much. They always want your boyfriend to be at family dinners or family vacations. Because they noticed how wider your smile got, how genuinely you laugh every time Wakasa is around. And, there's a saying that parents will immediately know if that person is the right one for you or if your friends are true friends. They already had a gut feeling that Wakasa is the only man capable of loving you and being patient with you. The only man that they would let their daughter be with forever.

++Wakasa respects your parents so much. And, in turn, your parents make it seem like Wakasa is their child and not you.

Dates? He either goes all out or just a casual stay-in while watching the movies, there's no in-between. As long as he could spend time with you, he will count it as a date.

This guy, I swear, keeps all of your letters and gifts. He hides it in a box and is very careful with it. He sometimes read your letters when he's feeling a little down. It never failed to cheer him up.

I see him more as a quality time guy. So, expect that almost every day, he's at your front door, waiting for you.

But, that doesn't mean he's not a sucker for your hugs and kisses. He will literally melt on the spot if you gave him a deep kiss on the cheek.

Speaking of kiss... Your first kiss with him was SPECTACULAR. He planned it really well, that you were so overwhelmed when it happened. It actually happened when he asked you to be his girlfriend. (Because this man ain't settling if he hasn't asked you yet, he respects your decisions, and he doesn't want to assume that you are already his girlfriend without even your knowledge or permission)

When you gave him that "yes" it was so sudden since you were the first one who initiated the kiss. You just pulled him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him passionately. It was your FIRST OF THE FIRST KISS, yet it felt like his lips were the only ones you wanted to kiss for the rest of your life.

"I just- I love you, Y/N. You are my queen, and my duty is to love you, okay?"

He also always brings you along when he and his friends are having a trip. So, he'll have you on the passenger seat of his motorcycle. You always loved road trips with him since it meant that you can carelessly hug him and intake your favorite scent in the world: him.

His earrings? You have the other pair of them. Because secretly for him, it is endearing to see you wear any of his accessories or clothes. It feels domestic in a way for him.

All of his promises would never be broken. He will fulfill as long as he can. His actions speak louder than his words. Through the small touches using his fingers, through how he looks at you like you're the only one existing, and how he knows everything about you without even telling him about it.

You know that you'll marry him one day, and Wakasa's determined to.

And, Y/N, please expect the grandest proposal of all time...

You are his queen, right? And, he will make you feel like it. Not just on the day he proposes, or on the day you two will get married, but every single day that you are his.

a/n: i know, i went overboard with this HAHJASHAHH kneewaze, i luv wakasa so much sklaskalsk

[glitch-zero]

Brahms Heelshire Nsfw Alphabet

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Oh, he’ll let you clean up, usually. But keep in mind that sex always will end in cuddles. No doubt about it. Even if you get up to shower, Brahms willl go and follow you in eventually, demanding as usual.

B: Bodypart (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Brahms loves his chest. His broad shoulders too. Makes him look all mighty and strong, which isn’t a lie.

Brahms also really likes it when you lay on said chest and shoulders.

His partner?... he can’t decide. Whatever he can hold and/or fondle is fair game in his eyes.

…

Though he does like a nice rack. And love handles.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Even if he’s caught up in the heat of the moment, Brahms still somewhat of a gentleman and will warn you when he’s about to bust one so you can avoid it; or direct it away from your face.

Though if given permission, this man will nut in you every chance he gets. He much prefers to fill you.

D: Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oh. Oh, this man is into watching you do everything. He’ll jerk off into your underwear while watching you shower. He’s a stinky man that can get away with jerking off behind a wall.

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced at all, but all that lack of sex in his earlier years makes it seem like he’s real good.

All that awkwardness dissolves once you get him going. If he’s on top, he can take the reigns.

F: Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

If you asked Brahms, (with the knowledge that he’ll freeze up and blush so hard his mask turns all hot), he would say he wouldn’t know. Whatever gets the job done.

But he does enjoy holding his partner’s hands. He’s adamant about that.

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Brahms takes it pretty seriously. And even if he’s making a silly face during, it’s not going to stop him from drilling into you till you scream bloody murder.

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Have you seen this man. Do you think this man, having an ungroomed head of hair, a thick ass beard, chest hair so thick it makes him sweat, has perfectly hairless junk.

He’s swamped down there.

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate. Brahms loves proving how much he adores you. How much he wants to make sweet love to you. Now, he isn’t as poetic as that, but he loves to make sure you’re appreciated every second you’re screwing.

This man cannot fuck. He makes love that just happens to also include fucking your brains out.

J: Jack/Jill Off (Masturbation headcanon)

This man has the whole inner walls of the house to himself. He can drop trou and crank one out whenever he wishes, moaning as loud as he wants.

Then again, if you’re in the same room (expanded on letter K), he’ll pipe down and won’t be as vigorous.

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

MAJOR VOYEUR. As I’ve said, this man can watch anyone and anything at all times behind the walls. He loves to watch you masturbate, hear you moan, hear you at your most private. Double points if you moan his name. (He actually might barrel out of the wall and spice things up, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

As much hype Brahms gives watching others, he doesn’t like to be watched. He likes to be in control, and he just doesn’t want to be spectated. Give this poor man some head.

Brahms’s other kinks include mild choking and clothing fetishism. He does like biting, but you’re going to have to fish that kink out of him. He’ll kill a man but there’s no way he’ll bite his beloved without consent.

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

You’re alone in this giant mansion. You’re getting that Brahms cock everywhere.

But his favorite place? His room. He loves it, makes him feel good. Surrounded by his territory. You both are safe here, no one’s getting caught, even if it were possible.

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s so easy to turn on. Brahms is so touched starved it’s not even funny at this point. Just tell him he looks ‘kinda hot’ and you’ve earned yourself a clingy, horny Brahms for the rest of the day.

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Please don’t degrade him, oh my god he’s going to cry. He needs to be praised, he needs to be reinforced, tell what he’s doing is good. It’s more rewarding anyway for both parties.

Don’t light candles/use candle wax either, that should be a given. You can probably get away with incense, but even still.

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Brahms enjoys head as much as the next guy, but the moment you show him some new trick or maneuver he’ll enjoy it a whole lot more. He’s a very dramatic receiver and will not stop looking at you. Hope you like eyes being burned into the crown of your head.

Don’t underestimate his giving skills though. He’s not well versed in oral, but the moment he hits your sweet spot he’s going to absolutely pounce on it. He can feign skill pretty well.

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It all depends on how he’s feeling; Brahms doesn’t choose one over the other. His sweet innocent voice makes it seem like the latter, but don’t be surprised when you get the pounding of your life. It’s just how he is, be ready for both (unless you explicitly ask)!

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind a quickie! He’ll bend you over the dining table or pin you to the laundry room wall. Brahms is a big pushover though, and if you want to take it to the bedroom, he’ll carry you right over!

Brahms also enjoys quickies for the sake of how many positions can he get you in! All depends on the room.

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Not much to risk, unfortunately. Living in a big empty house, far away from the big city. He could fuck you on that tiny balcony as much as he wants, but there’s no risk of you both getting caught (plus it’s England and cold, don’t do it outside hello).

If there was a chance, even, he’s game. He’s been jerking off in the walls for years now without so much as a peep, he knows he can shush.

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s always satisfied with a single round, but you better be in for the long haul if you want to wear him out for good. He loves your enthusiasm! But don’t be surprised if on round four you’re exhausted. Your determination is funny to Brahms, but he’s a horny man!

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Brahms totally would have a fleshlight, wouldn’t he. He’d be a creep and fix your underwear on it. But I don’t think he’d own one; he prefers to not leave the house and his parents would never buy such a crude item.

I think vibrators would be too overwhelming. He’d be happy to try, though. He’ll always humor you!

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Fuck yes, Brahms loves to tease. He’ll grab your waist, tickle your neck with his beard. He won’t take his mask off, but you can feel his hot breath emanating from inside.

He haaates being teased though. He gets all huffy, he immediately thinks that you want sex now, but when you step away to make lunch is the moment he gets cranky. How can you leave him like this!!! You know how easily worked up he gets!!!

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Very. Sure, you’d think Brahms prefers to be quiet during his life in the walls, but he’s just a ball of loud moans, ranging in severity. His voice gets all loud and squeaky, begging and whining, you’d wonder if he’s crying at this point.

W: Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hugs are the only thing that doesn’t rile him up. He recognizes that hold as something sweet, something to treasure, something he’s never felt in so long. Brahms loves to be doted on.

Unless you buck on his hips. Oho, don’t get him started.

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Bushy man. Decently thick. Perfectly rounded tip that has a slight curve. Cut. Seven inches when hard. Sports a noticeable thick vein trailing on the side.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Everything gets him hard. It’s not difficult to turn him on, just looking at his junk can make a night different.

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Most of the time, he’ll park himself on the nearest nappable surface and pass out with you.

[maximoff-pan]

Something, Everything | Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: What happens when you break out of Wanda’s hold on you? What does this mean for you and Pietro Peter?

Character: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: Y’all I’m so sorry this is short, I’m just so in love with Peter Maximoff and WandaVision has sparked my love again. This doesn’t have a lot of Peter in it but if you guys want, I’m definitely down to write some fluffy Peter one shots if you want! Send me any requests you’d like to see!

Disclaimer: I haven’t had the chance to watch the show yet, so if this is completely off from the plot of WandaVision, you know why lol.

Something doesn’t feel right. You’re not quite sure what it is, but you can’t shake the feeling that something, everything in this town is off.

You take in your surroundings suspiciously. Standing in the living room of an overly classic, cliche suburban house, you hear people bustling around you. But it’s all fuzzy.

This isn’t your world. This isn’t your universe. This isn’t where you belong. This revelation is the accumulation of all the red flags that you’ve noticed during your stay in Westview. And something innate, something instinctual in your mind shouts at you to ‘get out.’ But you can’t leave. Her hold on you is tighter than ever before.

“Babe?” Peter’s voice cuts through the static of your brain waves.

“Peter?” Your voice shakes. His hands are resting on his hips, a playful grin adorning his features. For a moment you feel calm, before Wanda whips around the corner with a threatening look on her face, and the dread comes roaring back.

“You hit your head or something?” Peter laughs, but something tells you that’s not his name. “Pietro.” He reminds you.

Wanda sends you another menacing look, an eerily serene smile shaping her lips. Without a second thought, your control begins to fade. The feeling of dread is gone, replaced with this rush of belonging and voice in your mind that is soothing you into conformity. You relax your body, allowing her to regain control of you....for now. The faces in your memory fade to nothing, and any thoughts of Peter are gone.

Wanda realizes you are getting too strong, your mutation allowing you to loosen her grip on you. Without a doubt you have been the hardest person to keep a hold on, but this is only the first time you’ve shown signs of memory. And hopefully, it will be the last.

“Pietro.” You nod, your voice airily sweet. “Silly me. You know how scattered I can be.”

“That’s perfectly fine (Y/n).” Wanda chimes as she waltzes back into the kitchen. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

•••••

The way you speak and the way you act feels slightly forced. There’s always a smile on your face and when you begin to doubt it, a voice assures you that you are happy. And to be quite honest, maybe you are.

This life seems nothing short of perfect. You have a doting boyfriend and a loving family that you always wanted. There is never a single problem to face and the days pass by efforlessly. Why would you question your happiness? No one else seems to. And yet, there’s something, everything in you that is telling you to run.

“Wanda, we’d be more than happy to watch the twins for you.” Before you’re even aware of it, you’re speaking cheerily, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I can assure you, we can handle it.”

She lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s not you I’m worried about.” Her eyes dart to your boyfriend who’s busy messing with a can of whipped cream. “It’s him I’m unsure of.”

“Oh come on!” Pietro slides into the conversation, an offended look on his face. “Don’t sweat it sis. I’ve got the old xy chromosome. Uncle P to the rescue huh?”

You choke out a laugh as he mutters that he too can be responsible. You turn to Wanda calmly. “I’ll make sure to look after the children. All three of them.”

Pietro’s eyes widen as he pulls you into his chest, placing a kiss on your head. “I’m wounded by you. Absolutely wounded.”

Happy scenes like these are what make up every second of your days in Westview. You can’t remember a time when it wasn’t like this, but as each day passes, the pit in your stomach gets larger and the feeling that something, everything is off continues to manifest.

Sometimes you think you remember something. And sometimes you have these moments of recognition; they’re brief, but they exist nonetheless. Your brain keeps flashing the name Peter in your mind like a neon sign in big bright letters. But every time you think you’re getting somewhere, someone pulls you away, and makes it all fade to grey.

You wonder if he feels it too. Pietro, Peter, whoever he is. In normal circumstances, questioning your boyfriend’s identity would scare you. But these aren’t normal circumstances, and oddly enough, he is the only thing that feels real. He is the only person that doesn’t make you feel crazy, even if he doesn’t feel the same eeriness that you do.

Whatever your life was before this, he must have been someone to you. Because if there is one thing you are certain of, it is that you are in love with the man before you. Not even Wanda could make you fake that.

•••••

Wanda has dreaded this moment. She hoped it wouldn’t come, but she thought better. She knew there would be a time when her hold on you became so weak that you would break free. She figured she’d have more time, but seeing the look in your eyes, the fury that is eminently directed towards her, she knows that time is up.

Everyone else is out of the house, Wanda’s attempt at having a girls night with you, an attempt to settle your nerves, to make you feel more welcome. She likes you, and she feels that you like her too, but she also feels that you are desperate to find what you’ve lost. You are desperate to find the life you had before Westview, and she’s not sure how much longer she can keep you from it. Wanda thought that being alone with you would give her a chance to steady her grip on you, but it only seems to be the catalyst for weakening it.

When it happens, it hits you like a freight train. The air is knocked out of your lungs as memories flood through your mind.

“Peter.” You breathe. “His name is Peter.”

The tension is growing as your heart beats faster, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Wanda’s gaze pierces through your soul, her eyes glowing red.

“(Y/n)?” She questions, tilting her head as if to challenge you.

“You tried to make me forget.” Your voice feels unsteady. “You lied to me.”

Her words are calm and collected. It scares you how composed she is. “I had no choice.” It feels like another challenge.

You take a step towards her, mind clear and an aura of power radiating from you. You accept her challenge. Your hands glow a vibrant purple. “I don’t like being controlled.”

•••••

Behind the screen, Darcy’s eyes widen at what has played out before her. She turns to Jimmy and Monica with a doubtful look on her face.

“I think we have a problem.”

[yamagucji]

some tips for writing blogs, especially those who are just starting out. these are some things that works for me and may or may not work for others.

how to add a read more link on mobile

type :readmore: on a free space, then hit the enter or return button

personally i think they’re very helpful because it lessens the space you take up in your dash, and might encourage more people to rb

+ you can also add this on a spot where it gives a sort of cliffhanger, essentially making people want to ‘read more’

headers, banners, and dividers

though not necessary, it’s good to have a title for your work. make sure it’s bold and doesn’t blend in with your notes (aka pairing, warnings, etc.). this also helps when someone wants to look up one of your works in your search bar

i don’t really make banners or covers for my works. but some good apps that i know of would be picsart and canva. if you’re looking for ideas, i definitely recommend going into canva

wondering how to make those really small, thin dividers? you can make them using picsart! to make a divider hit tools > free crop > brush > size (adjust it to your preference > then draw a line along the edge of your photo > save

using the divider you just saved, go back to picsart and edit it again > draw option > hit rainbow square at the bottom left corner > hit suction/droplet symbol right below the check mark > color in the white spots bc for some reason picsart glitches and makes dividers look white-ish

new blog? just opened an account?

this is gonna sound really frustrating. but... tumblr needs to check if you’re a bot or not. what does this mean? it’s likely that your first few posts won’t show up on the search bar. you may not even get to edit your header/pfp yet ://

this happened to me and there was no visibility on my account at ALL. what helped me get ‘verified’ is that i followed a LOT of accounts, liked a bunch of posts, made some posts here and there. now that lets tumblr know you’re not a bot

visibility

the tumblr tagging system usually only allows the first 5 tags in your post to show up. so, what can do you about this? only use FIVE or less tags in your post. wait about 15 minutes or more until you can add some more tags in your post, and they usually all show up like that

another important thing about using tags is not to generalize! especially if you’re using a popular tag. but also don’t specify it too much where barely anyone looks it up. for example, if you’re writing a gn piece about oikawa, i recommend you use the tags such as: oikawa x reader, haikyuu x reader, oikawa x gn!reader, haikyuu headcanons, etc

a good rule of thumb is to use character x reader tags first, then leave the full name or fandom tag last

FOR NSFW: tumblr doesn’t let any tags with nsfw show up. so, give your nsfw works another tag. maybe #namegetspicy idk, you figure it out

FOR WARNINGS: especially if you’re a dark content creator, i highly encourage you to add tw:xyz tags. if you already have a warning note at the top then that’s great. but even better for readers who prefer to actually block these tags that way they never get to see it

another important thing to note is that people have different timezones. it helps if you rb your work at a different time of the day, in case people missed it! (icymi) i’ve noticed that reblogging helps to make your post show up in the tags

interaction + feedback

first and foremost, you are not obligated to write for your followers, and neither are your followers obligated to interact with you. remember that everyone has their own individual lives, and they have their own things to do— so do you, too.

make friends! become mutuals with other writers, visit their ask box. i know it can be daunting having to initiate these things, but you might just turn out to have fun! you can’t expect people to interact with you if you’re not interacting (back). it’s... kind of a two way thing yk? no need to be afraid to interact with other writers. oh, and rb other writers works!

pspsps join tag games or do ask games. it’s fun and very interactive

it never hurts to ask for feedback. i usually do this in a more subtle way because i don’t really expect a full on analysis on my works. maybe a little, is this okay? or feedback appreciated. sometimes it takes a little bit of coaxing for the silent readers

formatting your posts and blog

i generally put in the title at the top in big, bold letters

then comes the header/divider. helps to make the post more... visually appealing ig?

it’s important to add warnings (if any) and the pairing. the audience is not all female, and it might be a little frustrating for male readers having to find out its an x fem reader piece like halfway through your fic

if you have multiple works posted, it’s really really helpful to have a navigation page!

you can organize the posts you make with tags! for example, if you’re shitposting, you can use a specific tag for that. if you have a nsfw related post (ESPECIALLY when your blog is open to the general audience) please make a tag for it

themes + colors

if you have a color in mind but don’t know which direction to go from there, i recommend looking up color + aesthetic

looking to use the same color? download a name color app that’ll give you a hex code for any color you want to use. then, you can type in that hex code for when you’re choosing a color for your tumblr bio

wondering how to make your header image small like mine? just choose a photo for your header and turn off the stretch image option

want to use a different text color that tumblr doesn’t offer? it’s not as complicated as you think. you’ll have to go on a desktop to do this and do some html (but trust me, it’s not very difficult). look up “HTML noob but trying my best - how to use colored text on desktop”

^^ i don’t have the link for the color text tutorial so you can try looking it up

how to make an aesthetic navi and masterlist

step 1: decide a theme! if you’re stuck, think about a character + color/season/mood or look up “[insert] aesthetic” to find some inspiration. or you can try looking at other blogs too

step 2: find a color scheme! it’s easier if you choose fewer colors. if you want to use the same color for both divider and text, download a color name app in order to get the hex code of that color.

step 3: add categories to your navi! most navigation pages include a link to masterlist, about/byi, and rules. your navi should have a title that indicates that it’s... a navigation page. you can add thin colored dividers with the same color to make it easier for followers to navigate

step 4: you can choose to create a ‘cover’ or a picture for your navigation and masterlist! again, i recommend you use the canva app as a starting point

extra: search up emoticon symbols to spice up your titles!

reminder for you as a writer

you’re not obligated to do any of these things. i’ve noticed that we tend to build pressure on ourselves when it comes to content and interaction. remember, this !! is !! for !! fun !! when you realize that it’s no longer fun, then know that it’s time to take a break. and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self care.

^^ c/p from this post lol

at the end of the day, follower count and interaction doesn’t define you. again for the love of beings, you’re here on your own accord.

will be adding more if needed/asked.

[angelsdevils]

Time Zone: Sequel

Warning: There are some SPOILERS Note: This story will only be on my Wattpad and AO3 which are usernames Aurora_Petals. If you see anyone claiming this plot as their own let me know. I do NOT own the characters. KoFi not mandatory but donations are appreciated!

Tag List: @omakeomuomu @thisbicc @galactict3a @6-022-10-23 @bontensbabygirl @mrskasukib @artemis1862 @oikawascutie

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Final |

Reader's POV:

I woke up the next morning, groaning. I didn’t get to sleep last night because I thought it would be smart to try and start the letter. I bet my room is a mess right now. Writing a letter shouldn’t be this nerve wrecking. I slowly got out of bed, and made my way back to my desk. I sat down at the desk and decided to turn some music on. 

“Okay I can do this~ they are just a normal person like me…” I mumbled to myself as I picked up my pen.

‘Dear Kazutora, 

It’s so nice to finally write you, honestly it has been so nerve wrecking. I have so much balled up paper on my floor, I am gonna have to clean it! Anyway, my name is (Y/N) (L/N)… wait, that’s backwards… sorry still learning japanese. My name is (L/N) (Y/N). I am not really good at talking about myself honestly. So I hope you don’t mind that I ramble a lot in my letters. I do want to learn a lot about you! Also, don’t feel like you have to pretend to be someone you aren’t in these letters. Just be yourself, I wanna know the real you. I won’t judge, and what is said in these letters stays between us. Got it? I hope you are eating healthy, and getting some sleep. Me personally, I did not sleep at all, I was up all night trying to write this letter to you. I got maybe 2 hours of sleep. Not good I know. Now it’s morning and I am still writing, but its going better than it was. What kind of food do you like? What is your hobby? Favorite color? I love (favorite food), I enjoy (hobby), it’s something that keeps me locked away in the house most of the time. My favorite color is (favorite color). I only have a older brother, who takes care of me though between me and you he is a huge dork. We always end up fighting before I end up giving up. He has too much energy. I need him to donate me some honestly, haha. Do you have siblings? Anyway, I really hope to hear from you soon! Who knows maybe me and you will be best friends! Considering that spot has yet to be taken… So maybe you can take that title :P No pressure though, I am pretty weird… Quote of the day: “Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you will land upon the stars!”:

Your Penpal,  (L/N) (Y/N)

I stared at my letter with a smile before nodding my head satisfied. It shows the real me, and that I am not being fake. Now to mail this and to wait until his letter. I quickly put it in the envelope and wrote the address before putting it on top of my mailbox for the mailman. I sighed softly before getting ready for the day. I had nothing planned to much, besides staying indoors. I never really had too many friends, so I wasn’t ever invited to other places unless Jessica needed me in regards to the club. 

I got into the shower, before throwing on a pair of sweat pants and hoodie before getting me some food in my system. I saw a note on the fridge and noticed my brother left for work. Typical. I grabbed me a bowl of cereal before going back onto the couch, and turned on the T.V. 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

[innocent-malfoy-slut]

Sytherin Queen

Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Type: fluff/angst/smut

Summary: the Sytherin Queen and King are announced and to celebrate your victory, Draco has something unusual planned for you.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Reader (y/n), Pansy Parkinson

Warning(s): cheating (?), fingering, sex in front of a mirror

The first month of your seventh, and last, year at Hogwarts had started really smoothly. You had been no problems at attending classes and, for the first time since you attended the school, you felt like a normal student in a normal school.

But then your caring boyfriend took the matter into his own hands and did his better to remember you every day who you were and who you belonged to. He was older than you. He had graduated the year before and when you went back to the School on the first of September, he wasn’t with you.

“Troubles in paradise?” Pansy Parkinson appeared in the seat next to yours in the library and after placing her bag down on the floor, she turned completely to you and started intensely at you, “I can see the gears rotating into your brain.”

You let out a bitter smile and lowered your gaze on the opened book in front of you, not able to hold hers any longer, “Graham isn’t replying to my letters anymore,” you rubbed your hands on your face, but kept going, “We spent the entire summer together, but now he is distant and…I don’t know why I am doing this, it’s like he doesn’t even wants to try to make this work,” you spat out all your doubts regarding your relationship with your boyfriend. A tear went down your cheek and then landed on the white paper, “And I don’t know if I still love him.”

“Silly, I already know that!” she kept het voice tone low, yet it was like she had shouted it right to your face, “If it can comfort you, you’re pretty good at hiding your emotions, but you like staring…a lot,” Pansy was pleased with herself when she succeeded in getting a smile from you, “Listen, I remember how you and Graham used to be and I hoped it would work also once outside these walls. But obviously they aren’t going the way you wanted them,” she took your hands in hers and said: “I’ve never been seriously involved with someone yet, but I suggest you take your time and clear your mind about your feelings for Graham…and the other boy.”

Two weeks later you were still fervently hoping in a reply letter from your supposed-to-be boyfriend outside the school. After the fourth day you understood it wasn’t worth the wait, so you removed the necklace he had given you on 31stAugust that same year and put it into your drawer, next to your bed, unsure of what to do with it.

A few days before Pansy had convinced you to compete for the role of Slytherin Queen, which would have been assigned the night of the Ball -exclusive for Slytherins. You signed up under your friend’s insistence and there you were, in your dorm, in front of a full-figure mirror, just looking at you.

You had chosen a long green satin dress, with thin straps on your shoulders and a draped cowl neckline which highlighted your olive-skinned neck. Your parents had sent you earlier that week a piece of jewellery which came directly from your grandmother’s collection. It was a necklace representing a snake, it was entirely encrusted with shining diamonds, and at the end of it, right on the head of the snake, there were two big emeralds.

“That outfit is literally screaming ‘I’m the Slytherin Queen’,” Pansy appeared from behind the door of the bathroom and leaned against the frame of it, “Was that you the one who didn’t want to sign up for the competition?” she took a sip from a glass she then placed down on her bedside table.

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you sat down on your bed, “I’m still not sure about that,” you chuckled and fidget with your fingers, “Why would I be the Slytherin Queen when there’s you, or Daphne.”

“There’s a difference between you and us. Yes, we may be the centre of gossip, but I look at you while you take care of the First Years, or while you help the Third-Year girls with their problems. If I can use this term, you act as a mum. You are the kindest Slytherin among all of us.”

You gave her a heart-warming smile and hugged her tightly, “It’s time for us to go,” you hid yourself from her while swiping a solo tear running down your cheek, “Are your ready?” your hand reached for the doorknob and turned it once you made sure Pansy war right behind you.

You climbed down the stairs and soon were met with the strong smell of Firewhiskey, introduced illegally inside the green and silver common room. You didn’t notice the whispering all around you, both boys and girls were astonished by your beauty that night. Pansy went pouring you a glass of Whiskey, meanwhile you found a free-from-people spot in the room. You detected Blaise and Theo making their way into the crowd, being soon approached by two girls per one. They were both wearing two simple grey suits, which fitted the very good.

Behind them the door of the prefect’s dorm opened, and Draco Malfoy got out of it. He was wearing an entirely black suit; the trousers covered his thin and long legs perfectly, making them look slimmer. His tie was what made you drool the most; the thing you imagined him doing to you with his black tie. You were almost ashamed by the way Draco attracted you; you had never felt anything like that with Graham, especially because the nature of your relationship was strictly based on who you were and the heritage -cultural and non-cultural- you brought with you.

“You’ll need this, trust me.”

You didn’t notice Pansy coming closer to you and handing you a glass of Firewhiskey, which you gladly took from her hands and swallowed in one swift motion, “I won’t make it ‘till the end of the night,” you whispered more to yourself than o your friend, and fortunately she seemed not to have listened.

Instead, Pansy was focused more on the three boys now approaching the two of you, “Girls, aren’t you stunning this evening,” Theo lingered with his eyes on your neckline, earning a slap on the back of his neck, “What?” he asked the platinum-haired boy on his left.

“She has a boyfriend, who is a Slytherin. Calm down,” Malfoy scolded him with a harsh tone, while he kept shaking the drink within the glass between his hands. He raised his gaze from the light brown liquid and fixed his eyes on Pansy’s dress.

“There you are!” a voice which came from behind you surprised both you and your brown-haired friend on your left, “They are about to name the Queen and the Kind,” Daphne informed all of you. She was followed by her younger sister, Astoria, who kept revolving around your group since the beginning of the year.

You couldn’t say you were bothered by her presence, especially since she would sometimes turn to you when she needed any kind of advice. But you often found yourself observe the way she approached the older boys, mainly Draco. Astoria used to touch his arm whenever he was talking to her, or her fastidious laugh which was always too exaggerated.

Even though you had never talked about it with Pansy, you had the impression she had the same thoughts as you about the younger Greengrass and her pretty explicative manners with boys.

You moved along with your group as they came closer to the little stage, set up for the occasion, and stopped right underneath it. One of the boys from the same year as yours -so, from the seventh year- climbed up the stage and took the microphone between his hands.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the annual Slytherin Ball,” the crowd started cheering and considered the amount of alcohol which had been already consumed, the excitement was brimming, “We will start right away with the name of the Slytherin King,” he pointed at a crown laid on the top of a wooden-made stool, “Let’s be clear, who competed never had a chance against the one and only Slytherin Prince. Ladies, you voted your King to be…” the suspense which followed was senseless, because everyone in the room had understood who was about to be called. And, in fact, the crowd exploded shouting when Draco was invited to collect from the stage the crown now belonging to him. “Malfoy, do you want to reveal your Queen’s name?”

The platinum-haired boy took the envelope from the boy’s hands and unwrapped it. He read the name written on it and let out a soft chuckle, “Give me the crown,” after a moment he was getting off the platform with a feminine version of his crown, studded with hundreds of little silver-coloured glitters, in his hands. He came to a stop only once he was in front of your group.

Next to you, Pansy got excited, but you kept it together since you knew you weren’t the only one among you girls competing that night. Astoria Greengrass had signed up only one day before the beginning of the poll and she had quite an amount of ‘friends’ who certainly gave her their votes.

Draco switched his eyes between you and the younger girl. To you, it seemed like you could normally breath no longer; the only thing you attempt doing was holding your friend’s hand and, in that moment, you figured that maybe you actually cared about the damn crown. You looked into Draco’s eyes as they laid on you and you saw his lips slightly curling up.

What came next, your brain couldn’t process it. All of a sudden everybody’s eyes were on you and they watched as Draco carefully placed the crown onto your head, eventually locking a rebellious lock of your hair behind your ear. He looked at you as your cheeks flushed under his touch and, liking how your body reacted to his, he grabbed your hand with his while the other one was gently placed on your waist, “Would you like to dance, Queen?”

Saliva was no longer being produced inside your mouth, so what you did was simply nodding, trying not to lose your respectability by drooling over him.

The crowd made some space for you in the middle of the common room as Draco dragged you away from your friends. Once you were one in front of the other, he pulled you closer and you had to place both your arms over his shoulders -no that the position upset you. You started dancing really slowly; it was like you were studying each other, unsure of what you were doing was okay with the other.

Draco wasn’t the kind of boy who liked to ask, he would rather take what he believed being his by right. That was what he did with you on September of the same year; he didn’t care about your ‘boyfriend’ outside the school, what he really mattered to him was that you were his. And you were glad you could count on him.

What brought you to him was entirely different from what brought you and Graham together. You and Draco actually shared the same interests and there wasn’t a single moment since you knew each other that he made you feel inferior to him.

That was why when, in the general confusion, he asked you to follow him, you did it without even questioning him where to. He interlaced your fingers together and dragged you through the crowd and across the room; in less than a couple of minutes you were walking down the aisle of the boys’ dorm.

Draco had a room only for him; he said to you it was because he was a prefect, but deep down you knew he got it because of his father. And each time you tried to tease him about it, he would rapidly change the topic of the conversation. You had been more than one time inside of his room, and no one of your friends knew it.

Once you made it to his room, he closed the door behind your back and pushed you against it, “So, my Queen, how to you want to celebrate?” he whispered in a seductive tone next to your ear, “I have a couple of suggestions to make,” he kissed your lobe over and over again, leaving a trail of wetness behind, “Want to hear them?”

You nodded frantically, “T-tell me,” your hands were soon wrapped around the back of his neck and your lips found his in a matter of seconds, “What were you thinking, Draco?” you knew how much he liked his name being whispered by you, and since he had firstly told you that, you kept doing it -but only when there was only the two of you.

He put some distance between the two of you while he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb, “You are astonishing with this crown on,” he drew with his fingers the outline of it and then laid his eyes again on your figure, “Do never take it off tonight, sweetheart.”

You shivered as his fingers lifted the straps of your dress, “Is the door locked?” you looked around yourself and then stopped your gaze on his features, enlightened by the weak light inside the room. You didn’t have to ask; Draco brought a hand behind you and when you heard the key being turned in the keyhole, you were sure no one would have busted into the room that night.

Your hands, which were still hanging behind his neck, went stroking the tiny, soft hair on it, while his were now placed on your waist.

“Don’t waste our time then,” Draco dragged you forward, again and again, until your butt hit his desk, “I had in mind something different for today,” as he pulled down the strips of your dress, and let it fall on the ground, he was pleasantly surprised by what were you wearing under it.

A constant thought lingering in your mind all day made you wear a lingerie under the silk dress; it was basic, yet the sexiest Draco had ever seen on a woman.

He took his time observing you, imprinting in his mind the forest green strapless bra and slip on you, “I cannot say how much I love this colour on you,” his fingers went playing behind your back, with the hook of it, while his eyes paid attention a little lower from there, “No, I will show you how much I love this colour on you.”

You felt his hands leaving your body and felt cold and alone when he turned his back at you completely. You watched him tearing down a drape from the wall, unveiling a full-length mirror, “One quick question,” your curious self was coming out, “Is that always been there?” you didn’t address to him directly, instead you preferred looking at him through the glass, “And why I didn’t know about it?” you suddenly felt two large hands regaining their place on your hips.

“I don’t like the idea of seeing myself as I wake up.”

You looked up and chuckled at his words; it was such a Draco Malfoy’s typical expression to use, “Are we going to spend the entire night commending your mirror?” you turned around and placed your hands around the back of his neck, again, “Or are we up to something else?”

“You can bet that pretty ass of yours we are,” he roughly flipped you, now your back was pressed against his chest and your ass was grinding against his hard erection, “Nice dress, by the way,” his fingers traced the line of your shoulders and then went down, up to the very end of your back, “Maybe tomorrow morning you can make a catwalk just for me.”

“It depends,” you answered vaguely, and you lips curled up in a lazy smile as you enjoyed his touch burning your skin.

“On what? If I may ask.”

“On how good you fuck me tonight,” you looked like the typical innocent, good girl to everyone -even to Graham-, but there was one only person in the entire world who had the pleasure to meet the real you.

“Are you challenging me, Miss Y/L/N?” Draco pulled you further against him and his arms wrapped around your hips, “You know I never refuse a challenge, especially if I know I will win,” having said that, there was no more time for words. He pushed you down and within seconds you were on your knees, looking at him through the full-length mirror in front of you.

You kept silent, watching Draco pushing down his black jacket, which was soon followed by his black shirt; his fingers found the buckle the belt he was wearing and undid it -quite masterfully, according to you. His trousers were thrown onto the bed; he stood there, behind you, in his underwear which did left nothing to your imagination.

You licked your upper lip and smirked, staring directly into his eyes, “Are we going to take it slow all night?”

“Face down. Ass up,” Draco commanded you and chuckled as you eagerly accomplished his orders. His eyes followed the narrow line of the thong you were wearing. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it -he wanted that catwalk the morning after more than anything. Draco’s fingers trailed down the fabric until they rushed against your core, “Already so wet for me?”

“Only for you, Draco,” you knew how much he like it when you said it to him, and so you fitted that sentence every time you could.

“What do you want?” he kneeled behind you, eyes fixed on yours through the mirror, “You ask, and I will accomplish, my Queen.”

“Then,” you turned your head around to look him straight in the face, “I want to be fucked so hard that I won’t remember even my name tomorrow morning,” you noticed the lust sparkling in his eyes.

Draco’s hand laid down on your head and pointed it towards the mirror, he pushed until your cheek touched the soft carpet, “Spread your legs,” he supported the movement you made with your legs, “Good girl,” your underwear was moved to the side and the boy’s cold fingers were met with the heat of your wet pussy. Draco pushed his index inside you, twisted it and pulled it out. He repeated the action a couple of times before thrusting his middle and annular inside, too. He intensified his pace and was about to brought you your first orgasm of the night, except that he removed his fingers before the wave could hit you, “Pathetic.”

“W-why?” you asked breathless.

Since the first time you had sex with Draco, you understood it was nothing like the boys you had been before -nor Graham. Draco had always cared about you and your body, and out your pleasure before his own. Though he didn’t seem an altruistic person, within the walls of the bedroom, Draco came in second place. But he was an arrogant asshole even when you were throbbing for him.

“You should know by now that you are only allowed to come on my cock,” he kept his back straight while he brushed the tip of his hard member against the labia of your pussy, “I haven’t heard you beg yet.”

You let out a deep breath and steadied yourself o your elbows, reaching an even wide opening with your legs, “Please, my King, let me come on your cock. Please, fuck me ‘till my mind blo-“ you gasped when you felt him going deep inside you. You thought that he knew what he was asking for when he told you to put yourself in that position: you could literally feel him hitting all your soft spots and his tip was less than an inch away from your cervix.

He was big and thick; again, nothing you had experienced before.

“Move.”

You brought forward your hips and pushed them back, enough for his balls to hit your clit; you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, pleased with the sensation. You repeated you action once more, this time you were staring at his face, twisted in a satisfied expression. You heard him babbling senseless words and that gave you the strength to do it again. After that, you didn’t push yourself away, instead you kept your position and held his cock deep buried inside you.

“Already tired?” Draco went down on your ass at first gently, then he slapped it quite hard. He didn’t go back, but he gave you a thrust and you couldn’t help but lower your head. His fingers grabbed a few hairs of yours and pulled it up again, “I said: eyes on me. If not, you will be punished,” then he whispered next to you ears, “I really don’t want to show every Slytherin how accommodating you can be.”

Draco pulled himself back and then, in one quick motion, he thrusted back into you. He steadied himself to a fast pace, which had you moaning so loud that he congratulated himself for casting a silencing charm over the room moments before. He grabbed your crown, which had fallen from your head, and put it back on it, keeping it in place with another charm, “Look at yourself, the Slytherin Queen being destroyed by the only man who will ever see you like this,” he felt your walls tightening around him and his cock growing harder inside you, “You desperate slut.”

When you noticed his hand running between your legs, and your core, you shivered and then, all of a sudden, he pinched your clit, and you didn’t hold it back anymore; you screamed while the orgasm washed you over and over again.

When you raised your head to meet Draco’s grey eyes, he was already looking at you with a smile plastered over his face. It wasn’t his usual smirk, neither was he making of somebody, Draco Malfoy had on the soft smile he had only shown to you. The only girl he had ever cared about.

“I’ll give you that catwalk tomorrow morning,” you said in no more than a whisper, but you were sure he had listened to you because he giggled and placed a warm kiss on your back, along the line of your backbone, “Can we cuddle before round two?”

Draco broke into laughs, “Are you up for round two?” meanwhile he carefully made you stand up and took you to the bed. As usual he tucked you under the sheets and then jumped on the mattress, reaching his spot behind you.

“I’m always up for round two with you.”

Tag List

@iam-fucking-batgirl

[imasimpforshanks]

Hello author! Can I ask for K and L for Sanji/Ace please. (Fluff) thankyou!

Fluff Alphabet - Portgas D. Ace

a/n: hiya!!!! Here is ace’s fluff alphabet! 💗I know you only asked for K & L but I hate only answering a few letters of these at a time LMAO 💀ALSOOOOO I’m going to Sanjis at some point too, because I got a lot more angst asks than fluff so yahhhh! Anywayssss hope you enjoy<3333

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

Ace absolutely loves to pull pranks on you AND he loves to pull pranks with you. Once a month you actually have an all-out prank war against one another where even the crew fear that they will be caught in the middle of it.

Oh, and true to his character, the two of you spend a lot of time eating food together. It’s very difficult for any normal human being to eat anything close to the amount Ace eats, so more often than not, it’s you staring at him in awe while he scoffs down another plate of food.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

He finds your smile to be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen, it’s even more beautiful when the smile is directed at him. The moment you smile at him everything else in the world seems to melt away. Ace does everything in his power to bring a smile to your face, because when you smile everything else seems to fall into place. (SO CLICHÉ I KNOW BUT IT’S TRUE!)

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

His go to method of comfort is cuddles. He just wraps his arms around you and gives you lots of forehead kisses. He’ll say all these kind things about you and ask what you need from him. If you’re not sure, or if you don’t feel like talking, he’ll patiently wait until you’re ready to talk.

D-Dreams (how do they picture they future with their s/o?)

In every possible future he envisions, you are there. To Ace, there is no future unless you are with him. It’ll be the two of you living life to the absolute fullest, taking it day-by-day.

He isn’t too keen on having (biological) children as he doesn’t want them to be burdened with the blood of Gol D. Roger.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

He tends to take the more dominant role in the relationship. It’s just his natural personality that seeps through, it’s truly not intentional. He’s confident and loud so there’s not really any way you can’t not listen to him. However, if you were to voice any opinions or comments, you’ve got all his attention!

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

I talk about his fights with his s/o a little in his angst alphabet. Here it is again!

Fights with Ace, although they don’t happen often, can quickly get out of hand. He’s stubborn and his inability to accept that he’s not always right can cause a minor disagreement to escalate into an all-out fight. On a few occasions you have argued about him never turning his back on an opponent.

Your fights tend to be followed by cooldown time. Things can get quite heated (no pun intended) so you need some alone time and space to breathe. After that though, you comeback together and apologize.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Ace felt unloved and unwanted by the world growing up (save for Luffy and Sabo, oh and Dadan), so it was quite the change to experience the unconditional love you provided him. He will forever be grateful for what you have done for him, in fact, he’s so grateful about it that he can never shut up about it! Much like how he gushes about his ‘stupid kid brother’ to the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace will also never shut up about you to anyone he talks to. Your name somehow always makes its way into any conversation he has.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

The only secret he kept from you was that he was the son of the Pirate King. He was scared that once you knew, you would view him differently. But over time he was able to see that that would never be the case. So, after telling you that, he never kept anything from you ever again. Ace actually finds sharing secrets with you to be a weight off his shoulders.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You were another person that was able to show Ace he is worthy of being loved. It’s an insecurity of his that will probably never go away, but that’s okay because you’re more than happy to remind him daily.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

I talked about Ace’s jealousy in his angst alphabet! But I’ll go over it again here!

When he gets jealous he turns into such a man child. He’s pouting and moping around while mumbling to himself. He develops quite a petty attitude. If you were to ask him “want to go get something to eat?” he’d respond with “why don’t you just go and ask ____ for some food.” But, as soon as you begin commenting on how jealous he’s acting he’s going to deny it to the end of his days.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

I feel as though I may give Ace a little too much credit when it comes to this because I want to think that he’d be one of those amazing kissers, like he just has a knack for it. But in reality, that probably wouldn’t be the case.

Ace is more likely to be quite an overexcited kisser. He’s keen and passionate, that’s for sure. But with your first kiss, he’s a little too keen and tries to move way to fast. After some calming down and a little bit of a giggle to one other he’s in the zone.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

The two of you are just talking and he’s, unsurprisingly, brought up his brother, Luffy. What is surprising however, is when he tells you how badly he wants you guys to meet each other. Your first reaction was “yeah that stands to reason he wants all of us to meet luffy” but before you could say anything Ace is already going on like “yeah, I just can’t wait to have the two people I love most in the world meet. It’d be real cool” (or something along those lines and probably a little less cheesy LMAO). You just stare at him like “heh?” and he stares at you like “uhhhh… yeah I said what I said?”

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Heck yeah, this dude wants to get married! Getting to show you off to everyone? Yes please! Getting to tell you in front of everyone he knows just how much he loves you? BIG YES. Oh, AND a big ass party afterwards? THIS DUDE CANNOT WAIT! Being able to marry you is one of his dreams, and he’s actually been thinking about since the first date you guys went on.

But, he’s really struggling with how to propose to you. He’s gone through every cliché in the book. A ring at the bottom of your glass, in your food, a carriage ride etc. They’re all great ideas but he doesn’t think they suit the dynamic of your relationship. So, he’s going to enlist the help of Whitebeard Pirates and create an elaborate prank (that has a 50/50 chance of going wrong but also still working out exactly as he wanted).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He likes to call you hot stuff or baby. Initially, these nicknames resulted in a lot of teasing from the other whitebeard pirates but neither of you cared.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

Whitebeard and a few of the other division commanders are the first to notice. I mean, it’s not that hard… He is constantly bringing you up in every conversation (if you’re not there) and if you are there, they can’t even get his attention for a moment. You have his undivided attention! It isn’t until Marco or someone says “You’re down baddddd, Ace” that he’s like HUH?

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

Ace loves PDA. He is all about kissing you in front of everyone else. So much so that you constantly get told to “get a room!”. Ace loves to show off his relationship with you to the whole wide world. He’s incredibly proud to have found someone that loves him wholeheartedly.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

Well, thanks to his devil fruit, his body temperature tends to run pretty warm, so you have your own personal heater.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Ace is romantic in his own way, that’s for sure. He expresses his love through teasing and jokes, but also through quality time. He’s big on that. Making sure all his attention is on you so you know just how much he loves you.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

He has so much faith in your ability to achieve your goals. He wants to be able to help you in any way he can, so if you come to him and ask for help, he would be absolutely ecstatic! Ace just wants to be a part of your success story (in the best way possible, I know some people only want to because then they get credited but that’s not why ace wants to do it at all! Nothing makes Ace happier than seeing those he loves achieve their goals).

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

Your relationship is already spiced out enough as it is. He’s got an extremely mischievous personality so is constantly getting up to god knows what, and some how always manages to drag you into it. If anything, your relationship could do with a little more routine (but you both are extremely happy with the way it is).

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

Ace is an extremely empathetic individual. He understands a lot more than most, just how awful negative emotions can be (whether that’s sadness, insecurity, anger etc.). So he is quick to your aid whenever something seems to wrong.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

All relationships in Ace’s life are extremely important to him. He even values them more than his own life. Your relationship is no exception. You’ve shown him love, and accepted him for who he truly is, so there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you and he makes that very clear every single day.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

He knows all your food orders off by heart. And when I say all your food orders, I mean ALL of them. He knows your food orders for each of your different moods. He memorised them pretty quickly so that he could surprise you with food regardless of your mood.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He is an extremely affectionate individual. Ace is practically attached to your hip at every possible moment. An arm will always be thrown around your waist or shoulders, and he literally wants to spend all day smothering you in kisses. He’s shameless when it comes to affection.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

He copes by talking about you to EVERYONE. He tells the crew stories about you (mind you these are stories not only that they’ve heard multiple times, but they were also there to witness themselves). It gets to the point where even Whitebeard is like “ya know what Ace, you can go visit them.”

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

As I said previously, all relationships in Ace’s life are extremely important to him. We saw what lengths he was willing to go to when Thatch was killed by Blackbeard, and you would be no different. In fact, Ace would be willing to do all of that and so much more, if it was for you.