#so i'll be back on main story quick

[bmpmp3]

the really beautiful landscape/skyscape animation in makoto shinkai's works tends to be the big thing i see focused on and that is understandable and deserved like the weather and lighting effects are unREAL but i do think we should also appreciate how absolute insane the plotlines of his original movies get. at least two movies with in universe catastrophes with major ecological implications. the guns and explosions. theres that one movie i havent seen yet with the guy who turns into a chair (?)

[muletia]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader

summary: what if optimus' obsession bypassed his memory loss? what if he was so infatuated that even his past self yearned for you?

cw: fluff, pinch of angst, canon divergence: orion is taken by the autobots, obsessive thoughts, clinginess, orion literally cannot be left alone for one(1) second, tbh nothing happens in this, i just wanted to write obsessed!orion interacting with you, bad writing, silliness

word count: 4700

"Come to the base. It's urgent."

As you stare at the terse message from Ratchet, your chewing slows and stops. A storm of questions whirls in your mind, panic creeping into your body. Before you can even type a single letter, your phone rings. The caller is none other than the Autobot medic himself. You answer in less than a second.

"Hello? Ratchet, please don't scare me—what exactly happened?"

"It's about Optimus." Your heart skips a beat. "During the last mission, he was... injured. Or, to be precise, damaged."

"Is it serious?" you ask, pacing nervously around the break room. Lunch now long forgotten. "Will he be all right?"

"Physically—he's never looked or felt better. Mentally, however... that's a different story. I'll explain the details when you get here. And make it quick."

"Hold on, wait—I can't just leave work early like that. There's a whole procedure for this. I can't just waltz out, even though I’d love to leave right now."

"...In an hour and a half, I expect to see you here at the base. See you then."

He hangs up. You stare at your phone screen for a moment, replaying the conversation in your head. Something serious must have happened—Ratchet wouldn’t disturb you at work otherwise. And it involved Optimus... You bite your lip, torn by indecision. You need to at least make sure he's okay, to see with your own eyes what Ratchet was talking about. Otherwise, you'll regret your negligence and spend the rest of the day worrying.

Shoving the half-eaten sandwich into your bag, you rush to your computer to draft a request for early leave, praying fervently that your boss will grant it.

You kept pressing the gas, speeding toward the base, trying to balance obeying traffic laws with worrying about the Autobot. You knew he had been preparing for a mission recently, he had told you about it during a ride you shared, but you didn’t expect it to end like this. Maybe you should have, considering you were associated with a race of aliens deeply embroiled in a centuries-long war, but you always pushed such unpleasant thoughts to the back of your mind, wishing your friends the best. Now, though, all the worst scenarios were coming to the surface. Had he fallen into a coma? Was his processor damaged? Had he died? You didn’t want to think about such an ending. Optimus was alive. You were sure of that.

Seeing the familiar red rock, a tight knot of anxiety gripped your throat. In a few moments, you were about to drive into what was practically your second home, not knowing what awaited you. You glanced at the clock. You were half an hour late—well beyond the time Ratchet had given you.

As if on cue, the medic called you again.

“Don’t enter the hangar. Leave the vehicle at the entrance.”

Before you could say a word, he hung up, leaving you to sigh in frustration.

Following his instructions, you parked at the main entrance and made the rest of the journey on foot. The lights seemed especially harsh, glaring into your eyes as the tunnel stretched endlessly ahead of you, as if warning you, giving you one last chance to turn back. But no force on Earth could stop you now. Determined, you marched forward, needing to know what had happened to your friend.

The hangar was full of Autobots, their sheer presence intimidating. You had thought you were over the feeling of smallness that came with being one of the humans among them, but now it hit you again, hard, dredging up memories of when humans in their midst were still a novelty. You froze for a moment, your courage momentarily disappearing in the shadows of giants.

It wasn’t until your eyes landed on the reason you had left work early that you began to breathe again. Optimus stood there, seemingly whole and healthy, facing the platform where the kids likely were. Relief washed over you. He was alive. Your heart was still racing, but the weight of dread lifted slightly, leaving you braced for the next wave of bad news.

"Hey, sorry I’m late. Work took longer than I expected," you called out.

Your voice immediately caught his attention. Optimus turned to you so abruptly that it shocked everyone present, abandoning the conversation he had been engaged in. Tilting your head back to meet his gaze, you were surprised when he knelt down on one knee, making himself more accessible. You still had to look up, but now his face wasn’t obscured by his… windshields.

The first hint that something was off was his smile—wide, cheerful, and curious. Optimus didn’t smile like that, not even when something genuinely delighted him. Worry started gnawing at you again. Something was wrong.

"Greetings. You must be our next human ally, correct?"

At first, you were at a loss for words. Of all the scenarios you had imagined, memory loss hadn’t even crossed your mind. But before the conversation could veer into awkward territory or panic could take hold, you managed to reply, mirroring his smile.

"That’s right."

"You seem… familiar. As though we have met before."

The hangar fell silent, the atmosphere thickening.

"Of course he would remember her," Ratchet hissed under his breath. You shot him a glare filled with venom.

Focusing back on the mech before you, you forced a calm smile, masking the whirlwind of emotions inside you. You felt like you were on the verge of exploding—uncertain whether to jog his memories or pretend this was truly your first meeting. Why hadn’t anyone given you guidance on how to handle this?

"Erm, well…" you began, only for Ratchet to step in and spare you.

"Humans can look quite similar at first glance," the medic interjected. "Orion, this is [Name], the last human who should know of our existence."

A flicker of something lit up in his cyan optics—something indefinable, known only to him.

"Greetings, [Name]. It is a great pleasure to meet you."

He extended a servo toward you. Tentatively, you clasped one of his digits, ignoring the ache in your heart. This shouldn’t have been happening. You shouldn’t have to forge a new relationship with someone so dear to you. It felt uncanny—like he was wearing Optimus’s skin but was someone entirely different inside. It was unnerving, disorienting. Yet this stranger had knelt before you, reduced himself to your scale to show respect, just as Optimus always had. It was a glimpse of his alternate self, a sign of the inherent honor and kindness he still carried.

"Hello, Orion. The pleasure is all mine."

Letting go of his servo, you gave him an apologetic smile, signaling the end of the conversation. You needed answers, clarity about the situation, before you could decide how to proceed. As Orion straightened up, you stepped past him toward the platform. You could feel curious optics on you, particularly his, as you fist-bumped the kids. Unbeknownst to you, Orion clenched his servo in the same way you had during your handshake.

"So," you said to Ratchet, "what happened?"

The medic sighed, clearly weary of recounting the story yet again. But you had to know. You listened intently, the details unsettling and at times horrifying, but you felt a growing sense of calm. At least now you knew what you were dealing with—what topics to avoid, how to act. The relief faded, however, when you learned that the first attempt to restore Optimus’s memories had failed, and no date had been set for the next.

As Ratchet spoke, most of the team dispersed, leaving only you, the medic, and Orion in the hangar. Taking a moment to process everything, you glanced at Orion, catching his curious gaze.

This was your new reality. Optimus was gone, yet not entirely, standing just a few meters away, watching you intently. It was too much to dwell on. You needed something to distract yourself.

Standing from the couch, you headed down the stairs. You figured you’d be here for the rest of the evening, so you might as well find something productive to do.

"[Name]?" Orion’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He looked genuinely concerned. "Are you leaving already?"

His behavior puzzled you.

"I’m just going to grab my things. I’ll be right back."

"I see. May I accompany you?"

Oh, that was adorable—especially with the hopeful tone in his voice.

"I’m not sure you’ll fit in the tunnel in your current form," you teased with a laugh. "It won’t take long. I’ll be back in a minute."

This time, you quickened your pace.

For several hours, Orion's life had been filled with uncertainty. He didn’t know how he had ended up on this planet, who the Autobots around him were, or why they called him "Prime" when he felt he was unworthy of the title. And now, another enigma had appeared—you. Orion could not rationalize the overwhelming need to be near you. He had felt it the moment he laid his optics on you. The need to stay close, to converse, to observe. The need to know you better. Never before had such intense emotions stirred within him for anyone, let alone a stranger. But you weren’t a stranger. This may have been your first meeting, and he may have spoken to you for the first time, but you were not unfamiliar. Of that, he was absolutely certain.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes into hours since you had disappeared into the tunnel. He regretted not following you, even if it meant transforming into his alt-form. At least he would have kept an optic on you, preventing the gnawing feelings of confusion and longing from devouring him from inside.

Ratchet watched his friend closely. He recognized that look, that body language. He knew what it signified, what storm was brewing in Orion’s processor. Optimus had been the same when it came to you. For a brief moment, his friend was back. Too bad it was under such circumstances.

"Do you really remember that woman?" he asked.

"I am not certain," Orion replied, still gazing toward the tunnel. "I feel like she is not a stranger, even though I know this was our first encounter. And as… Prime, if I indeed held that title, was she close to me?"

Primus.

"Perhaps closer than any human, but only Optimus knew to what extent. That might explain why you recognized her."

"Then she is special."

"Everything points to that."

Orion glanced at him, offering a faint smile. For reasons Ratchet couldn’t quite explain, the gesture was hard to look at. Fortunately, you emerged from the tunnel, giving him an excuse to start working again.

"See? I told you it’d only take a minute," you laughed, a black backpack slung over your shoulder.

Orion didn’t confess the truth—that by his reckoning, you had been gone an eternity. He watched intently as you climbed the stairs and took a seat on the couch.

"So, Orion," you began, "what did you do on Cybertron?"

Oh. You were curious about him? Truly? He had never thought of himself as particularly interesting.

It was fortunate that you were not looking at him because his body language betrayed his embarrassment.

"I was an archivist. Do humans on Earth have similar professions?"

"Of course. You know, I’ve always admired archivists. It’s meticulous work, requiring patience and nerves of steel—if you know what I mean. Anyway, it’s an important job, and anyone who takes it up is very cool in my book."

"Cool?"

"You know, fascinating, impressive, admirable."

"Does that mean that... in your optics, I am… cool?"

He asked without thinking and immediately regretted it when you gave him an amused look. Embarrassed, he tilted his helm downward. For such a towering and formidable being, he was also astonishingly skittish. It was peculiar to see a former Prime in such a light, but it made him more relatable, more emotionally accessible. Even so, you couldn’t deny that you missed Optimus.

"Of course, you’re cool to me."

That answer brightened him. A spectacle of stars dances in his optics.

You returned to typing on your laptop, but Orion had other plans for you.

"It seems I still have much to learn about this planet."

"I think you’ll catch on quickly. Besides, if it makes you feel any better, the other bots don’t know everything either. If you’re ever unsure, just ask. I’ll do my best to help."

"Thank you, [Name]. Your kindness is very important to me."

"Anytime. If you’d like, you could also explore our literature—it’ll give you a good insight into what humanity is all about. That sounds like a fitting activity for an archivist, doesn’t it?"

He would much rather have you as his sole source of knowledge about your species, as it meant spending more time with you. He wanted to know not just what you were but who you were—your interests, where you worked, how you spent your free time, your philosophy, beliefs, and hobbies. Everything you were willing to share. He wanted to know you inside and out, to solidify this sense of connection and make it real. And if you wished, he would bare his own secrets, reveal his spark, and show you every part of himself. Perhaps then you might look at him just for a second longer.

"Yes, I believe that would be an enjoyable activity. And what is it that you do?"

He asked question after question, each answer adding a new layer of understanding about you. He shared a little in return, preferring listening to you—your opinions, your perspective.

Time passed swiftly in your company. Relentless and unforgiving, it waited for no one. Orion realized this when you set aside your device and began stretching. It was a mesmerizing sight—your movements were so different from those of Cybertronians, fluid, and light. That was until the air was pierced by the loud crack coming from your back.

Energon froze in his fuel lines, and his spark leaped to his intake.

"[Name]? Are you alright? Are you harmed?"

"Hm?" you hummed, confused. He looked as though calamity had befallen him, as though you’d been beheaded. Then you remembered—it was Orion, not Optimus, and the human body was weird. "Oh, that. Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s perfectly normal." To prove your point, you began cracking your knuckles, stopping quickly when you saw his horrified expression. "Okay, sorry about that. But really, I’m fine. I just need to stretch."

"Alright…" he replied, though he didn’t seem convinced. You couldn’t blame him.

You rose from the couch and stepped down from the platform, intending to take a short walk. Panic erupted in his spark. Oh no. No, no, no. He didn’t want to be left alone, not after such a jarring experience. He wouldn’t let you out of his optics now—not even for a moment.

"May I accompany you?"

"Of course!" you replied without hesitation, smiling—a gesture he immediately mirrored. "It won’t be very exciting, though."

"On the contrary, I find you to be a most intriguing individual."

"Oh, thank you," you said, clearing your throat, embarrassed. Compliments delivered in that baritone still flustered you.

Together, you ventured deeper into the base, bypassing various sections. In the training room, Arcee worked on her speed, while Bulkhead struck a makeshift punching bag fashioned from an old car. The children watched the spectacle, occasionally entertaining themselves. You both quickly slipped past the always-open entryway and continued on your way.

“[Name]?” Orion inquires. You turn into an empty hangar with a high platform, starting to ascend the stairs.

“Hm?”

“How do humans attempt to court their partners?”

You hadn't expected that kind of question. You stop mid-step, pondering your answer. When you look at him, his expression is dead serious, though his optics betray a determination. Why would he want to know this? You decide it’s probably mere curiosity.

“It depends on the person.” You continue climbing the stairs until you finally reach the top, now level with his faceplate. “Some buy gifts like flowers, others go on elaborate dates. But the common factor is spending time together, and getting to know one another. Feelings tend to develop naturally that way,” you explain. “Actually, that’s an interesting topic. How did it work on Cybertron?”

“Similarly. However, instead of exchanging ‘flowers,’ we presented rare metals or crystals to leave the best impression. To demonstrate strength and potential as a partner.”

“I know a few people who would totally fall for that approach. Heh, I’d be thrilled to get a geode myself.”

Orion suddenly lights up. Were you suggesting something or just sharing an opinion? Whatever it was, he felt compelled to try. To prove himself worthy. Perhaps he could even find the ‘flowers’ you mentioned.

“I see. Thank you for enlightening me.”

“You’re welcome?” you reply, unsure exactly how you’ve helped, but the sight of his broad smile and bright optics makes it all worthwhile. He was utterly adorable.

The two of you chat casually until you’re forced to check the time. You inhale sharply, and Orion tilts his head slightly, curious about your reaction.

“It was great talking to you, but I really need to go. I have work tomorrow and I’d like to get some sleep.”

Panic flashes across his face. He had enjoyed your company so much. He didn’t feel alienated or alone when he was with you. The sense of connection played a significant role, but Orion had already let you into his spark. He had found a safe harbor in you and wasn’t ready to drift away just yet. He wasn’t ready to let go, even if the world around him were to crumble.

“May I accompany you?” he asks, desperation seeping into his tone.

“Excuse me?”

“May I accompany you?” he repeats, now begging.

“My home isn’t exactly designed to host a giant robot. Besides, it’s dangerous and... wait, do you even know the traffic regulations?”

His expression answers the question, but he still attempts to defend himself.

“I have acquainted myself with them partially.”

“Who has the right of way at an uncontrolled intersection?”

He opens his mouth but quickly closes it again, visibly crestfallen. He looks as though he might cry.

“Orion, we’ll see each other tomorrow,” you reassure him. “The first thing I’ll do after work is come here.”

He frantically searches for an argument to keep you with him—anything to prolong your company. Then he remembers his first encounter with human children.

“Every child was assigned a guardian who escorted them home and ensured their safety,” he states, refusing to give up. “Do you have a protector?”

“Unofficially, that was Optimus…”

“Then I would like to carry on his mission.”

“I’m not a child, Orion.”

“I understand that. I merely wish for your safety, [Name],” he explains earnestly. “And… I would prefer not to part from the company most dear to me.”

Your thoughts drift back to something he said earlier—how he recognized the bond you once shared, even though this was your first conversation. He hadn’t recognized Ratchet or anyone from his team—only you.

You tried to put yourself in his position. To suddenly find yourself in a foreign place, surrounded by strangers addressing you by a false name and feeding you information that might as well be fiction. And then, in a world where nothing is familiar, someone steps in—someone you vaguely recognize. You might not know their name, but you know there was once a connection. Wouldn’t you cling to that tiny thread, desperately pulling it closer if someone tried to take it away?

Orion had found solid ground, and you were unintentionally trying to undermine it. You exhale softly. You already knew you’d be saying goodbye to sleep tonight.

“Alright.” His smile makes it all worth it. It’s as though you’ve handed him a star from the sky. “Let’s see what Ratchet has to say about all this.”

"I see no objections."

Orion looks at you with excitement sparkling in his optics.

"Wow, that was quick."

"It's a good excuse for Orion to explore the area and get accustomed to his alt mode."

The medic refrains from adding that if the former leader remained at the base, he would likely have wasted away in longing for you, lamenting to every sentient being that he couldn't wait to see you again. Though the comment teeters on the edge of his glossa, he opts for discretion. Optimus, at least, had never vocalized his peculiar obsession with you quite so openly.

"Should anything unusual occur, contact me immediately. Someone will come for you in the morning," Ratchet advises his friend before turning to you. "Good night, [Name]."

You thank the medic for his diligence and ask him to take some rest, earning a piercing glare that almost feels lethal, then retrieve your backpack and head toward the tunnel. Orion stays close by, not leaving your side even after transforming. Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you, visibly delighted at the prospect of your first shared drive together. In his mind, this was more than a mere drive—it was a deeply intimate act, almost akin to inviting a partner into one’s private space.

But his dreams are promptly shattered when you inform him that you have your own car.

The journey is uneventful but nerve-wracking; you constantly check your side mirror to ensure Orion is still following you. Thankfully, there are no issues, and he even remembers to use his turn signals when necessary. Everything proceeds smoothly until you pull into your driveway and are struck by a dreadful realization: Will a Peterbilt even fit in my garage?

You park your car to the side, leaving Orion enough space to drive safely. Exiting your vehicle, you open the garage door and wave at him to proceed. You nervously bite your thumb, watching the massive truck carefully edge into the space. There are barely three centimeters between the roof of the truck and the ceiling. When you close the garage door, the already limited space shrinks further.

"So, do you regret your decision now?" you ask, stepping around to the front of the truck.

Orion transforms with meticulous precision, carefully positioning his limbs and helm to avoid damaging the walls. The process goes well until his helm grazes the ceiling with an audible thud, dislodging a few small pieces of debris. He winces slightly and rubs his helm but offers you a warm smile.

"I do not regret my decision."

"Pfff, well, that's good. Are you all right?"

"I am unharmed."

You can’t help but feel guilty for confining him to such a cramped space, but it was his choice. If he insisted, he would simply have to endure it. Of course, that meant you would have to endure it, too, as the issues began almost immediately.

"All right, I’m going to grab my things. I’ll be back in a moment."

He panics again—something you’re beginning to expect from him.

"Please, do not leave me."

His voice is unchanging. A deep and thick baritone that permeates your body, speaking straight to your soul. It is strange to hear the same voice coming out of a shamed and uncertain being, begging you for company.

"I’ll only be gone for two minutes."

You reach for the door handle, but his servo shoots forward, blocking your exit.

"Orion," you chide, your tone sharp and reprimanding.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, his apprehension laid bare.

"Please, I do not wish to be alone."

"Two minutes," you say firmly, though your annoyance falters when you see the raw emotion in his optics. Sighing, you place a hand on the edge of his digit, catching his attention. "I’ll be back. I promise."

He believes you, of course he does. He trusts you to return, yes, he even knows it. It doesn't change the fact that he is frightened, he feels alone, and your proximity calms the storm raging through his processor. His whole body is clamoring for you, screaming for you to stay with him. He craves bodily contact, he wants your soft hands to stroke his metal and your lips to whisper sweet nothings. He wants more, he wants to feel the softness, more, more, more.

He takes his servo away.

"Good mech."

As you disappear through the door, Orion buries his face in his hands. Despite his embarrassment, he can’t suppress a grin. He had enjoyed that moment—far too much.

He wants to hear you say it again.

When you return, you’re carrying a blanket, a deck of UNO cards, some snacks, and your laptop. Orion beams at the sight of you but frowns when he notices you shivering.

"Are you cold?" he asks with concern.

"Hmm? A little, but I’ll warm up soon."

Without warning, he gently scoops you up in his servo, handling you with the utmost care. The shock is brief—you don’t even have time to protest before he places you on his chassis. His servo remains loosely wrapped around you as a precaution, but your back presses against his warm metal frame. Tilting your head up to glare at him for pulling such a stunt, you find him already watching you, amusement dancing in his optics.

"Ask next time before you do something like that," you scold lightly.

"I make no promises," he teases, earning a playful flick to his digit.

"I was planning to play UNO, but since you pulled that move, let’s watch a movie instead. Unless you’d rather do something else?"

"I leave myself entirely at your mercy."

He would have been content doing nothing as long as he could hold you close.

"All right, then. A movie it is."

It's hard for him to keep up with the plot when he's overstimulated, but he tries, because your questions encouraging discussion come out of nowhere. And it was just at moments when he started to drift off, when the optics shifted from the tiny screen to you; when there was only you and him in the world. Sometimes, however, he would focus for longer, especially during the romantic scenes. He longs to experience something similar with you, an indestructible, sappy love. To recite poetry into your ear and watch you blush, to announce to everyone how much you mean to him. To bestow expensive gifts, the geodes you mentioned earlier. He needs your tender words, your praise, your touch. You could do whatever you liked with him, and he would give you his spark.

He worries when you fall silent for too long.

"[Name]?" he calls softly, leaning closer to check on you. Relief washes over him when he sees you’ve simply fallen asleep. Poor thing—you must have been exhausted.

Still, a part of him resents it. He wanted to talk to you longer, watch more films, learn more about human romance to win your favor. But he knows his thoughts are selfish. Setting the laptop aside, he carefully covers you with his other servo, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety.

He's not sure he'll be able to recharge. At least not now, when he was too absorbed in devouring you with his optics. You felt safe with him. You gave him your trust. You chose him.

A spark of possessiveness sweeps through his processor. He doesn't want to let you go. He doesn't want you to go to work tomorrow and leave him for eternity. He also knows he shouldn't think that way. The spark goes out.

Watching you sleep, his processor churns with thoughts. You trusted him. He vows to prove his worth tomorrow, to show you just how deep his feelings run.

Because he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be himself. How much longer he will remain as Orion Pax.

[amiableness]

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader ☼ 659 words

"Y/N, love, what should we name him?" James asks curiously from his seat beside you.

For the past twenty minutes, you've been nestled on the couch between James and Remus, completely engrossed in the romance novel cradled in your hands. The story is reaching a pivotal moment, and your anticipation grows as the main characters edge closer to acknowledging their long-held feelings for each other.

James's right arm rests comfortably behind your shoulders, a reassuring presence, while Remus quietly turns the pages of his own book, the room enveloped in a serene hush. Despite the delay of Sirius and Peter, you hope they'll at least allow you to savor this crucial juncture in your literary escape.

"Name what—" you begin, turning to look at James curiously. But a sharp shriek escapes your lips as you spot a fairly giant spider crawling across his left hand. Your book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as adrenaline kicks in. 

In pure desperation, you scramble across the couch towards Remus, your movements quick and almost frantic. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you find yourself in his lap, straddling his thighs. Remus, caught off guard, drops his book with a soft thud, his arms reacting instinctively to encircle you. His solid and reassuring arms pull you close against his chest, your own chest pressing firmly against his sturdy torso while you loop your arms around his neck for added security.

You watch James with wide eyes and parted lips, a sense of panic creeping in as he flashes you a teasing grin. You know he's about to tease you— it's inevitable.

“You don’t want to hold him? I can just plop him right-” James extends his left arm towards you, his tone teasing. 

Your reaction is immediate—a gasp that turns heads in the room, “Don’t you fucking dare!” You cling to Remus all the more, your fear palpable as you avoid any closer contact with the unwelcome intruder.

You and James both know there isn’t much of a threat behind your words. It’s hard to come across as intimidating when you’re buried in Remus's arms, seeking refuge from James's teasing.

"You can't keep running to Remus every time you have a problem." James teasingly huffs out, recalling the countless times Remus has scolded him for teasing you.

"Yes, she can." Remus asserts firmly, his voice carrying a hint of protectiveness.

"I promise he won’t bite." James continues, carefully adjusting his hands, one in front of the other, to let the spider crawl freely.

"Mate, leave it alone." Remus grumbles, adjusting your position so you nestle closer into him. Your cheek finds a comfortable spot on Remus’s shoulder. You consider giving James a defiant glare, but then remember he could easily toss the insect in your direction.

"I’m just teasing her. She knows I’m just messing around." James protests.

“James, leave her the fuck alone." Remus snaps sharply. James quickly complies, dropping his hand towards the floor and shaking off the spider. You watch with tense shoulders as the arachnid scurries off towards a dark corner. James glances nervously at Remus, guilt prickling in his stomach as he meets Remus's searing glare.

He knows better than to push Remus when he’s agitated, especially when it involves the girl he's so desperately into.

Several minutes passed in silence before James broke it.

"The spider's gone, love. You can get off his lap now. I'm sure Remus wants to go back to reading his book alone." He teases with a mischievous glint in his eyes, throwing a playful jab your way as he eyes how content you look being held by Remus.

"If Remus doesn't mind, I think I'll stay right where I am." You retort with a hint of defiance, glancing at Remus for confirmation. He responds by pulling you closer, his arm wrapping protectively around you, and giving James a pointed stare that silently asserts your decision to stay put.

That settled that.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part four)

series masterlist & main masterlist

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I don’t have much to say other than enjoy! Please leave your thoughts and opinions in the comments or message me! I’d love to hear what you have to say <3

part four: friends for now?

Hugh let you drag him through the club by your intertwined hands. The crowd seemed to be never ending as you walked through, trying to make it to the bar. A few people stopped you along the way to congratulate you and give their praises, but the night no longer felt special. It didn’t even feel like these people were here for you. They were just strangers attending a random party. Most of them already way past tipsy and probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. When the bar was in sight, you did a quick scan of the area. In the right corner, you saw a small, tall table that had two tall stools, perfect. 

“Heyyy y/n! I’ve been looking for you!” Ashley yells over the music with a big smile on her face. You don’t miss the way she glances back at Hugh. “Where have you been?” She asks and you can hear the accusation that’s hidden behind her words. Hugh squeezes your hand and it makes you realize just how close he is to you, the front of his body a whisper away from touching the back of yours. “I’ve been making the rounds. I was looking for you but kept getting stopped along the way.” You’re yelling back at her, trying to sound alive and bubbly by letting a laugh out at the end. You weren’t sure if she bought it. Ashley gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t. “We were gonna grab a drink, you wanna come?” You offer her but she shakes her head. “No, I have one over there.” She points to a group of girls sitting at a larger table that sits on the left side of the bar. “I’ll see you later okay?” She leans to give you a quick hug and she notices the point of contact between Hugh and yourself. “Don’t be stupid y/n.” She whispers in your ear and leans back from the hug with a smile. “Love you!” She’s yelling this time as she walks away. Her comment made your chest burn. You could tell that she thought something more was happening between Hugh and yourself but he saved you. He helped you get away from Pedro and she had no right to be accusatory. 

This night kept getting worse, the only thing keeping you from going home and leaving your own party was the warmth of Hugh’s hand. The warmth suddenly vanished, Hugh letting go of your hand for the first time since he helped you off of the couch in the backroom. He pulled back one of the stools for you and offered his arm to hold as you climbed up to sit. Your foot faltered slightly, causing your leg to buckle, but Hugh was quick to grab your waist to stabilize you. “Thank you.” You say again. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asks julting his thumb towards the bar behind him. 

“Oh! I'll take a pop my cherry margarita please.” You smile, voice full of excitement. Hugh lets out that rich man laugh that you haven't heard since the day you met him. 

“A WHAT?” He’s still laughing, it’s so contagious that your own laughter slips past your lips unexpectedly. 

“Pop my cherry margarita. It’s a real thing!” You explained to him that you wanted to create a drink menu that matched the album song titles. It was the one detail you really had a say in. “I thought they were handing out pamphlets at the door that explained that. Did you not get one?” Hugh’s eyebrows furrowed but they relax just as fast as he pulled a folded up pamphlet from his back pocket. You gasp dramatically. 

“You didn’t read it?” Your voice held a joking tone but you couldn’t help but feel a ping of hurt within your chest at the thought of him not taking the time to at least skim over the silly little paper. 

“I was looking for you when I first got here.” He admits shyly, an emotion you didn’t know Hugh was capable of having. He was always so confident and loud, never shy. It was cute. 

“Well in that case, you are forgiven.” His words made your heart swell. 

“I’ll be right back.” He gives your shoulder a light squeeze and walks over to the bar. 

Taking a look around the room, you’re glad that people are enjoying themselves. Your album only has three more songs to play before you’d have to go back on stage to give your thanks again. The club was booked all night, meaning that everyone was welcome to stay until it closes at two am. You didn’t plan to stay that late and after the events of the night, you weren’t sure if you’d stay any longer than your second ‘speech’. You glance back over to Hugh. He’s leaning on the counter, making conversation with the bartender. He was so charismatic, easily falling into conversation with anyone he met. You were certain that there wasn’t a person in the world that disliked him, he was the definition of likable. The reality of the situation was starting to settle more clearly now that your mind wasn’t clouded by the brief altercation with Pedro. Hugh hadn’t left your side since the moment he found you, he helped you collect yourself, and now he was ordering you a drink. You weren’t sure what this meant for him- you knew exactly what it meant for you. All of his acts of kindness were starting to overfill the file in your head labeled ‘big fat crush on Hugh Jackman’. 

“Here you are, one pop my cherry margarita.” He slides the glass in front of you and sits in the stool across from you. The drink is a bright red with a silver shimmer throughout. Two cherries sat on the top of the ice with a lime hugging the sugar lined rim. You took a sip, the tequila a little too strong for your liking, but the sweetness of the cherry and the slight hint of lime was refreshing.  “Mhmm that’s good. What'd you get?” You ask while squinting at his drink. “Slut me out martini?” He says unsure. You laugh. “Hm. Slut me out is probably my favorite song off the album, a good ‘ol dirty martini fits the vibe of the song.” He takes a sip and nods. “Hey.” You say to catch his attention again. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to actually listen to the album. You’re probably disappointed, given you’re such a big fan and all.” You’re mostly joking, the only sincerity being behind the fact he didn’t get to do what he came here to do. What you invited him here for. “Stop apologizing sweetheart.” He grunts out giving you a pointed look. 

“I did hear the first few songs, they were really good.” He says, taking a sip of his martini. 

“Just good?” You question. It looks like he thinks for a moment before speaking. 

“They’re surprising.” He says slowly. “How so?” You’re quick to respond. 

“Just… didn’t expect it. It’s different from your other stuff, it’s seductive.” 

“Hm..are you seduced?” His eyes lock onto yours. Your tongue darts out to pull the straw that sits in your glass to your lips. You can see his eyes move down towards your lips as you suck on the straw. When his eyes match yours again, he’s repositioning himself on the stool and lets out a low chuckle. “You’re something else y/n.” He shakes his head and you hum in satisfaction. 

You glance over to the dancing crowd, eyes moving over the groups of people. You meet Stacy’s eyes and you can hear the buzz of the last song fill your ears. She started making her way towards you, disappearing every few seconds as she weaved through people. “Shit.” You mumble as you try to think of ways to get out of getting on stage and thanking everyone again. “What’s wrong?” Hugh’s voice was filled with concern, the same tone he had used earlier in the night. “Stacy..my uh.. my assistant, I guess, is making her way over here right now and I like really, really don’t wanna go up on that stage again.” You frown. You were being stubborn, you knew that. The smart side of your brain tried to tell you that it wasn’t professional to just leave your own event. 

“C’mon.” Hugh is standing up quickly, offering his hand once again. “Huh?” You asked him, confusion written all over your face. “I’m getting you out of here. Let’s go.” You look around the room one last time. Stacy is about ten feet away, stress present on her face. “Okay.” You grab his hand and he helps you down, his other hand instinctively meeting your waist. “Y/n! I needed you on the stage like three minutes ago!” Stacy yells across the lowering distance. Hugh tugs your hand and you follow. You’re trying your best to keep up with his long legs as he walks swiftly through everyone. He pushes open the door and flashing lights blind the both of you. Covering your face, you tried to block the paparazzi’s cameras, completely trusting Hugh to guide you through this all. Once you reach the small parking lot that sits on the left side of the building, Hugh is opening the passenger door for you and helps you in. He hurries over to the drivers side and drives off as fast as he can, escaping the leeches that are trying to take as many pictures as possible. “Oh my god, you’re literally a life saver.” You say, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Pulling out your phone from the small purse that’s been draped on your shoulder most of the night, you sent a quick text to Stacy, responding to the endless texts and calls you’ve received from her in the past five minutes. 

You: I’m sorry Stacypoo. I’ll explain later. Love you <33

You knew work Stacy would be mad at you for some time but once you explained everything, friend Stacy would understand. “Do you want me to take you home?” Hugh asks. “Yes please. I’m pooped.” You huff out and he chuckles. You connect your phone to the car bluetooth and set your address on the GPS. The silence in the car calmed your body down at a rapid rate. Exhaustion took over your body and you could feel the ache in your feet from the heels. You were only at the party for an hour, yet it felt like you had been there all night. Looking at the time, the clock read 11:30pm. Hugh was quiet and you were afraid you might have caused too much trouble for him. That he wouldn’t want to be around you again after this. “Thank you Hugh. Really, you totally made this night so much better.” Your head is leaning against the headrest and you roll it slightly to look over at him. The faint light coming from the street lights shined on his face dimly. He was so handsome. You wanted to tell him. “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy your company.” He glances in your direction with a smile. The silence fills the space again.

 “Did you purposely wear a gray shirt to match my outfit?” You asked curiously. You meant to ask earlier but it slipped your mind. “What?” He’s smiling. “You heard me. Did you?” Your tone was teasing. “Maybe.” 

“Yes or no Hugh Jackman.” His name rolled off your tongue in a joking matter. You could've sworn you could see a slight blush but it was too dark in the car to tell. “Is this it?” He asks, pointing to your house. “Yea that’s me.” 

He pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park, cutting the engine. Hugh opens his car door to get out. “Oh! You don’t have to get out, it’s okay.” He ignores you, walking over to your side of the car anyways, closing the door once you’re out. You awkwardly walk up to your front door and search your purse for your keys. When you find them, you turn around to face Hugh. “Thank you for driving me home Hugh.” “No problem sweetheart.” He smiles warmly and you take a moment to take it in. Your eyes rake across every wrinkle in his face, showing the life he’s lived. His smile lines set deep into his cheeks and you can’t help but think how perfectly they suit him. His facial hair was just past a stubble but not quite filled out into his full beard yet. “I should get inside, don’t wanna keep you out any later.” Your voice is soft and you want to invite him in but you couldn’t. “Okay darling.” 

This crush on Hugh was something that felt deeper after tonight. If anything were to happen with him, you wanted it to be right. No rushing. The feeling was mature. Hugh was someone you didn’t want to lose, no matter how he fit into your life. It was a little scary to think about- how much you wanted him in your life. 

“Goodnight Hugh.” 

“Goodnight y/n.” 

You turn to unlock your door and just as you're twisting the handle, Hugh wraps his large hand around your arm. He gives you a small tug, urging you to turn around. “Y/n…” He speaks softly. “Yes?” He doesn’t say anything. “Hugh, are you okay?” His hand releases your arm, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His hands are rough. You can feel a few calluses along his hand, undoubtedly from the gym.  He’s searching your eyes but you're unsure what he’s trying to find. “Can I kiss you?” 

Oh. 

“Yes.” It’s barely audible, the only confirmation that he had heard you came from his lips meeting yours. The kiss was slow, soft, like he was afraid to move too much. Hugh’s lips melted into yours perfectly, dancing together in a rhythm that felt natural. He was bent down slightly to match your height, your heels aiding him. He was the one to break the kiss, you weren’t sure if you would have ever stopped kissing him if he didn’t pull away. You wanted to ask him so many questions, get into his head. You always had this impeding urge to know everything but you wanted to live in the sweetness of the moment. Hugh’s hands dropped from your cheeks and a small smile rested on his face. “Goodnight gorgeous.” He kisses the top of your head for the second time that night. “Goodnight..” You walked inside, standing half way out of the door, waving at Hugh as he drove away. 

You: text me when you get home so I know you got home safe! p.s. ur a good kisser.  

Walking around your house, you slowly stripped from your outfit, gathering your things to start your nightly routine as you waited for Hugh’s text. You hopped into the shower and thought about the crazy events that had happened in just a few hours. The kiss was something you hadn’t expected and it was killing you to not know what it meant for your relationship with Hugh. When you were brushing your teeth, your phone lit up on the bathroom counter. 

Hugh <3: Just got home. You’re not half bad yourself lol. 

You: really though, did you try to match my outfit? 

Hugh <3: Goodnight y/n… 

You: fine. I’ll get the truth out of you one day!! 

You: goodnight hugh! <3 

When your head hits the pillow, all you can do is think about the feeling of Hugh’s lips on yours, his hands on your face. You fell asleep with a smile on your face. 

—

The constant buzzing of your phone woke you up. It’s been going off for close to an hour and you tried your best to ignore it but the vibration under your pillow was starting to give you a headache. You winced at the brightness of the screen as your eyes adjusted to the light that invaded your eyeballs too suddenly. Squinting at the name, you let out a sigh. “Oh fuck me..” 

“Hi Stacy…” You say it sweetly, hoping it would ease whatever was coming your way. “Y/n, I need you to explain why the fuck you decided to run away from me last night.” Her voice is eerily calm, you’d prefer if she was yelling at you. “Oh yea…” You clear your throat. “So you know how when we started to plan the event, Pedro and I were still very much together?” You ask and she gives a short ‘yes’. “Well, when we had the last meeting, I completely forgot about him being invited already and forgot to take him off the list.” “Y/n, can you get to the point please, the label is on my ass right now trying to clear things up.” “Sorry…he uh.. Pedro showed up last night and he was mean Stacy. He kept saying how he wanted me back and he kept trying to grab me.” Your voice falters slightly. You couldn’t understand how Pedro, who was once so sweet and loving, had turned so cruel. “I’m so sorry y/n… I didn’t know, nobody knew.” You can hear the sympathy in her voice. “It’s fine, it’s over. I tried to stay, but I really wanted to leave. I’m sorry Stacy.” “It’s fine.” She sighs.

 “Have you been on your socials yet?” 

“No…why?” 

“Look at what I sent you.” 

You put her on speaker and open the text thread between Stacy and yourself. There were at least a hundred texts from her between last night and this morning. You click on a link she had sent and when you opened it, there was a picture from last night of Hugh and yourself leaving the party hand in hand. There were articles upon articles questioning if Hugh was your ‘new older fix’. There were also pictures of Pedro leaving the party with rumors of you cheating. It was all one big mess, but every single article seemed to agree on one thing:

Y/n L/n was a slut who liked older men. 

They weren’t completely wrong, you loved being with an older man, but you weren’t a slut, or a cheater, or a gold digger, or any other names they had called you. The rumors and name calling never bothered you but it always had a negative effect on the men in your life, even if they never got the shit end of the stick. It was why Pedro broke up with you and why everyone before him never wanted to make anything official, or even be seen with you. You felt so stupid for not telling Hugh that you needed to go out the back way, that he shouldn’t be seen leaving with you. Your dating life brought nothing but a bad reputation and you didn't want Hugh’s name involved in it. You're thankful that this article was centered on dragging you down and not Hugh. 

“Shit..” You whisper. “How mad are they?” You ask, referring to your management team. 

“They’re pretty pissed off. They keep nagging about how they warned you with Pedro. They’re worried about your image.” 

“God, I wish they would get over that already. It’s literally not that big of a deal.” Your irritation grew. It had always been something you hated about the industry, that they cared so much about minor personal details. As long as you were making music, making fans happy, and making them money- why does it matter who you’re seen with. You hated how much everyone ‘cared’ about what you did. 

“I know y/n, it sucks. I’ll try to get them calmed down and prevent any unnecessary meetings. I want you to focus on whatever you need to. Don’t stress yourself out about this.” “Thank you Stacy. I really am sorry if I got you into trouble last night.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it and I’m glad you did something for yourself for once.” 

The rest of the conversation is short and ends with Stacy complaining about Mark, the guy from the meeting, was blowing up her phone. 

You needed to talk to Hugh as soon as possible. There were so many things that needed to be discussed: the paparazzi pictures, the kiss, what we are, can he handle being your controversially old boyfriend- if that’s even what he wanted. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had already seen the headlines, if his team was just as mad as yours. 

You: hi hugh! could we meet up and talk sometime today? 

Hugh <3: Of course darling. Just tell me a time and place and I'll be there. 

You: 3pm at my house? 

Hugh <3: See you then. 😀

The emoji he attached made you laugh, Hugh texted like your parents and it should make you cringe but it does the exact opposite. You sent him your address, not expecting him to remember where you live, and started to prepare for his visit. You had a few hours before the agreed upon time, allowing you to clean up around your house and get presentable. Not wanting to go overboard, you decided on a pair of black flared leggings and a dark green crew neck that had ‘New York’ across the chest. You could feel your nerves working up as the time ticked away, each minute that went by increasing your heart rate. You were sitting on the couch, when there was a knock on your door. Taking a peek through the peephole, you could see Hugh standing there. You opened the door wide and gave him a tender smile. “Hi sweetheart.” He greets you with his own warm smile. “Hi Hugh. Come in.”  You open the door wider and he slips past you, waiting for you to close the door. “You can take your shoes off here if you want, but you don't have to.” He slides them off and you lead him into the living room. You take a seat on the couch, smacking the cushion next to you with your hand, urging him to take a seat as well- he does. You don’t speak right away, trying to find the right words to say, what to talk about first. “You okay y/n?” His expression is full of worry.

“Have you seen the pictures or anything about last night?” 

“No…?” You can tell he’s confused and you don’t say anything. Instead, you open your phone to the link Stacy sent and hand it to him. His eyes are moving back and forth slowly as he reads and scrolls through it. When he's done, he hands the phone back to you and sighs. “This is what you wanted to talk about?” He asks. “Yea…and other things.” 

He sighs. “Y/n, I already told you I don’t care what other people say. I don’t think what these people are saying about us should matter.” 

“I don’t want to drag you into this mess though, Hugh. It’s not fair to you, especially when everything they’re saying are lies.” 

“That’s just the way those people make a living. It won’t matter in a week, everyone will forget and move on, so don’t worry about me baby, worry about yourself. They said some nasty things in there, don’t let that get to your head kid?” His hand rests on your thigh and scrunch up your face at the nickname. 

“Hugh, for moral reasons, you can’t call me kid when you kissed me just last night. It's weird.” Your voice switching from the previous unsure and scared to serious. He lets out a laugh and a quick sorry. His hand still rests on your thigh and you reach out to place your hand on his, fingers slightly intertwining at the awkward angle. “Why did you kiss me last night?” Your doe like eyes look up at him. “I wanted to.” His answer is too brief for your liking and you can tell he’s teasing. “Why did you want to?” You ask further. “You looked really pretty in your sparkly little outfit last night sweetheart. You always look really pretty, truthfully. There’s just something about you that draws me to you.” He confesses. “Yea?”  “Yea…It’s a little scary if i’m being honest, how drawn to you I am.” “I’m scared too, Hugh.” You admit. “I’m terrified that whatever this is or whatever it leads to is going to get taken away from me.” Your willingness to be this open shocks you, but this needs to be done right. You would put your fears behind you for him. He squeezes your hand. “What do you mean?” 

“I just feel like every time I get something good that makes me happy, it’s gone faster than I can enjoy it. I mean..with uh…with Pedro, everything was going great, I was so happy…and he just.. left. All because things got hard, because he cared too much about everything else. I was getting attacked consistently, but he couldn’t handle it. My happiness got shattered. I don’t want that to happen again, especially not with someone like you. It sounds insane, we only just met, but Hugh, I really like you.” 

“I really like you too y/n.” He smiles and leans forward. His lips are getting closer to yours and as much as you want to kiss him, you can’t, not yet. “Wait..” You put the hand that isn’t holding his hand on his chest, stopping him from moving forward. “What’s wrong baby. You don't wanna kiss me?” there's a cocky smirk on his face and it was the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. His voice was smooth and seductive. “As much as I want to shove my tongue down your throat right now, I really wanna do this right.” His eyes widen slightly at your words. “Right?” He questions. “I wanna get to know you more and take it slow. I like you too much for this to be rushed and ruined.” “Hmm. I can work with that, but just to be completely sure, you don’t want to kiss me?” The smirk is back. “God..you’re too hot for your own good.” You grab his neck and pull him into you. You kiss him with as much passion as possible, it would be the last one for a while, until time passes and these feelings are certain. His tongue slithers across your bottom lip and you pull back from the kiss. “You’re really testing your luck Jackman.” You laugh and he shrugs. 

“Is waiting okay with you? I don’t want you to feel pressured or tied to me in some way.” You’re playing with his long fingers. “That’s fine by me baby, I'll wait for you as long as I need to.” He leans back into the couch. 

“Friends for now?” You ask. 

“Friends for now.” He nods.

Thank you for reading <33

part five

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

if you want to be added/removed please leave a comment on this post! *let me know if I missed anyone or if the tag doesn't work*

[jadegrey711]

Wally Clark x Reader Drabble

Just a quick little drabble about Wally and reader trying out some thigh riding. Really more banter than smut, but enjoy!

*NOT MY GIF*

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

"I really don't understand why you wore shorts on top of the grey sweatpants?" you teased as you sat in Wally's lap. "I mean you died after the movie Rocky came out and he was just rocking the grey sweatpants."

"It was the style!" Wally groaned.

"This is why the 90s were WAY better than the 80s."

"Excuse me?" Wally gasped. "The Goonies? Stand by Me? E. freaking T! Not to mention Dirty Dancing, which I know you love. So don't even try." He acused pointing a finger at you. "As well as MTV. The 80s were the shit."

"The 80s had great movies no doubt but fashion please! The 80s will forever be the spandex era, and you my wonderful Wally, are a victim of that." You said making your point, and trying to get up from Wally's lap.

"You think I'm a fashion victim?" Wally gaped, and pulled you back down to where you were stradling his thigh, the heat of his strong thighs radiating through the grey sweatpants he always wore. "Please I might have been dead but I watched everyone go through the 2010s, all that galaxy print still makes me shudder." He made an exasperated shivering motion which made you laugh as he wrapped his arms back around your torso.

"I never said that the 2010s fashion wasn't shit either. I think that galaxy print and spandex go hand in hand with the fashion victim department."

"Oh you're going to pay for that comment, baby. I ain't nobody's fashion victim." The grip on your waist tightened just a fraction.

"Oh yeah? And whatcha gonna do...Wallace?" You sassed staring those dark brown eyes down. And watched as they flicked down to your precarious position, straddling his thigh.

"Hmmm. Let's see what this will do." He said as he grabbed the hem of your jeans, and brought you forward on his thigh. You let out a small gasp, as the seam of your jeans hit just right on your clit as he brought you up his thigh.

"Wally!" You gasped.

"Did it feel good baby?"

"That's not the point." You said softly still trying to sound stern. "People will hear us." Wally leaned in close for a kiss.

"I promise I'll keep you quiet." He smirked, then pulled you back down his leg and back up again. You let out a reluctant moan and Wally was quick to cover your mouth with his, hushing your moans.

"Wally." You tried again, but he was having fun now and there's no stopping Wally not until he's made you cream your pants.

"You're so sensitive baby. We're going to have to do this more in the future." He growled, as he brought you back down and up again. "Do you think I could make you cum like this? It's going to be fun trying." He chuckled, kissing you again and deepening it this time, his tongue invading your mouth, eating the small moans he pulled from you.

"Maybe next time, I'll do this when you've only got your panties on, see how fast this fashion victim can make you cum, huh?"

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped, you and the heat that the thought of you two doing this again brought to your core.

[m-ilkiee]

Anything for you, Fushiguro-kun - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [summary] handsome blue eyes, honeyed praises and putting your needs above his, megumi seems like the perfect guy to lose your virginity to. that is, if everything he did wasn't for his selfish gain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [pairing] aged up! fushiguro megumi x fem! reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning] no-curse au, dark content, aged up fushiguro megumi, smut, angst, manipulation, gaslighting, coercion, dubcon, fingering (f.recieving), piv sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, creampie, corruption kink, praise kink, use of pet names (baby, good girl), mention of pregnancy and oral. everyone in this fic is above 20+

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r- 18+] not suitable for 17 or younger

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 2.9k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [author's notes]: i adore writing depraved megumi. please reblog, or say something nice and if you like this fic, I have an upcoming megumi fic called E-boys Ruined my Life, so please check that out and if you’re interested, apply to my taglist ♡ okay, back to the story

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main]

MEGUMI almost feels bad for you.

From the first day he met you, you've always been a good person. You're the type of person that genuinely cares about the well-being of people around you. You're considerate, kind and you never hold any grudges.

You're the kind of person that makes him sick to his stomach.

Megumi doesn't consider himself a good person. Sometimes he's nice to his friends and cordial to strangers, but that's it. He's not like you that would go out of your way to make anyone comfortable and certainly hates your style of putting others first before yourself, especially when it's detrimental.

Or at least he did. He doesn't hate it when you do it for him though.

"Megumi- i- can't … I've -mmh ahh- never done this before -ah ah-"

It wasn't his fault you were tempting. It was hard for him to stay focused when you're just so cute and pliant, being a sweetheart, a ray of sunshine. He wasn't one to care if someone was attractive or had big tits, but there's just something so appealing about you that he can't resist.

Your purity.

Ever since you mentioned you've never touched or kissed anyone, Megumi has never been the same around you. Something inside him shifted. It started with subtle touches on your arm and shoulders and then with each time you let him, he gets bolder; touching your back and moving lower, accidentally grabbing your tits or ass, roaming eyes whether you come over to his room like the naïve princess you were. He should feel like a piece of shit the way it's always you he fantasizes about whenever he jerks his cock to orgasm.

Unfortunately, he's not you and he's not going to feel guilty about it. Not like you would mind it, even, with all the cute sounds you make when anyone hits on you.

Your words are feeble in comparison to the loud moans he's pulling out of you with each thrust of his fingers in your cunt. It wasn't hard to get you on your back and legs spread out just for him to play with you.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he pressed a wet kiss on your neck, still fingering you deep and hard. "I'll be very gentle (name)." he curls his finger deep inside your cunt and you instantly arch your back, scrunching up the sheets underneath your fists. "Just gotta stretch that tight hole of yours real nice. Okay?"

A loud 'ah please' escapes your lips as he curls and twists his fingers into your g-spot faster and your face contorts into a perfect O as he fingers you. 

You're a panting mess underneath him and the sight has him practically drooling. Your legs are trembling on either side of his waist, as if they can't take any of his ministrations anymore. His fingers make quick work of getting you closer and closer to your orgasm and Megumi leans closer to your ear to guide you through it. "Feels good, doesn't it? That tension in your belly?"

He smirks when you nod hazily, your words unable to convey the new feelings you're experiencing right now. It only grows wider when Megumi strokes your g-spot to orgasm, to the point your hands are buried into his sheets and your thighs are violently shuddering while you scream "Megumi oh god '' loud enough to wake up his entire apartment. "Ah, please please-"

"Good girl. Keep cumming."

Music to his ears.

He pulls his fingers out of your poor, abused cunt, the drool of your clear cum connecting your still pulsating pussy to his long digits. Megumi pops the two fingers in his mouth, the tangy taste of your fluids assaulting his taste buds. He supposes this is what satisfaction tastes like - strong and pleasant- but if Megumi just wanted to taste your juices, he would have eaten you out instead.

That could wait, his cock is aching in his boxers

He has your back pressed on his sheets as he hovers on top of you, greedy eyes taking in the sight of your fucked out face and cups your chin with his unsoiled hand. "Won't you thank me baby? Gimme a kiss."

You're so obedient, puckering up as he slots his lips on yours. The kiss is messy, your tongue entangling in his and your soft hands digging through his thick dark hair while his hand squeezes your cheeks. Megumi kisses you until you're fucking breathless, letting you pull away as you pant for air before kissing you again, teeth knocking against each other desperately.

"Need to- fuck" he murmurs between kisses as you fall deeper and deeper into submission. "-fuck- I've got fuck that tight pussy of yours right now. Raw." You don't even get to protest when he adds. "Just need to fuck you raw baby. I'll get you the morning after. I swear."

"Bu-but I could get pregnant-"

"(Name), baby, please. It'll feel better to cum in you for your first time. I won't let you down. You trust me don'tcha?"

"But-"

One thing about you is that you're so easily convinced to go against everything you stand for. Megumi knows you're much too fucked out to understand the kind of risk he' about to put you through. It's selfish how he's hellbent on raw dogging you, something he hasn't ever done before and yet something about being first man that would not only dive into that pussy of yours, but also cum inside it sounds so appealing to him.

And looking at the way you're chewing your lips nervously, you just need a little nudge to agree.

"I'll wear a condom next time, baby. I promise, you'll enjoy it."

"O-okay."

Bingo. "Good girl."

He's much in a rush to roll down his boxers -practically soaked with pre- letting his pale pink erect cock spring up and slap his abdomen lightly. Your reaction was priceless, eyes almost bulging out of your sockets as he hovered above you again, stroking his cock with one hand and placing the other one just above your head. "Eyes on me." He demanded, and you complied, tearing your fearful gaze from his angry red tip moving closer to your entrance, to his face.

You're so pretty, the way your eyes are fixated on him trying not to think of the pain before the pleasure. Feeling a twinge of pity, he pressed a kiss on your cheek to ease up your nerves. "I'll be gentle. I promise." He whispers and you nod, keeping your thighs far apart no matter how bad you want to clamp them shut. Megumi rubs his lengthy dick between your wet folds, his tip teasing your poor, neglected clit before positioning himself towards your entrance.

Maybe it was sleazy for him to coax you into doing this. If Megumi was truly a good friend, he would pull away and leave, you've done nothing to deserve him using you like this after all. You came here to study and he's taken advantage of that.

"It's going to sting a little, (name). But I'll talk you through it. Just follow the sound of my voice, okay?"

Who was he kidding? Remorse was not something Megumi cared about, especially when it's him getting what he wants -you completely surrendering yourself to him and him tainting every inch of you until you're a filthy mess.

  THE blood curdling scream you let out is absolutely gut wrenching to anyone with a conscience. There's a part of Megumi that feels bad for you going through such agonizing pain of his cock splitting your poor cunt apart. Hell, tears are rolling down your cheeks and your fingers are buried in his sheets, trying to distract yourself from the pain.

"Ssh, it's okay." He coos, stroking your cheeks to soothe your pain, wiping your face with his thumbs. You're already shaking and crying, tears rolling down your trembling face, but you hang onto every word he says and lean into his touch. "It'll feel better soon, keep your eyes on me, breathe and relax."

You nod and take deep breaths between sobs, focusing on just him continuously comforting you. Megumi has never lied to you before and he won't start now. You just need to follow his instruction, so you let yourself ignore the searing pain of accommodating his entire length in one go and relax for him. All for him.

You'd do anything for Fushiguro Megumi.

The pain fades slowly but surely and the feeling of fullness for the first time is utterly delightful. The stretch hurt less and the need for him to just start moving was growing. "Megumi, please-"

He leans to your lips and cuts you short with another deep kiss, making you melt in his arms. God, it took everything in Megumi to not go crazy with how you were throbbing around his cock, because as much as he wanted this for himself, a little part of him wanted to take care of you too. Pulling away from the kiss, Megumi raises your legs to dive deeper into your cunt, making you jolt in response.

"I know, baby. I know."

His first thrust was slow, letting the feeling of pleasure wash over him as he let out a grunt. If he knew you were going to feel this good wrapped around his cock, he would have tried to seduce you a long time ago. He starts jerking his hips into you, increasing his pace with each thrust until he finds a steady rhythm that has the both of you moaning for each other.

Megumi is enraptured by the way sweat rolls down your breast, his eyes never never leaving your scrunched up face as he fucks into you. Your hands are now on his back and your nails are painfully scratching on him with each drag of his long cock inside your velvety walls.

"Ah, Megumi… s'good… your cock…"

Your words are a jumbled up mess in your head as you let Megumi fuck you deep and hard. He looks so handsome above you, his well formed abdomen glistening with sweat and slick from your wet pussy, dark blue eyes hooded with nothing short of lust, staring down at you. His dark, spiky hair stuck to his forehead, his biceps flexing every time he connects the two of you together.

Back when you first met him, those dark blue eyes always seemed to scare you because it made him look so unapproachable. Now, they're a siren call and you can't stop staring into them.

"Fuck, your pussy's takin' me too well." he whimpers into your ears, his breaths coming out in quick pants. You feel your pussy throb in response. "Gonna make me fucking lose my mind, shit."

The sound of skin slapping skin as he thrusts into you is sinful, loud and echoing through your ears. His dick is so deep inside you, far better than his fingers and he's fucking into you with such precision that has you gasping for more. You don't think this can get any better than what he's giving you right now-

"AH, WAIT, WAIT-"

Megumi has your legs practically folded to your chest and he's angled his thrusts to your g-spot, now increasing his pace until all you can hear is the headboard practically hitting the wall with his powerful thrusts. Your body is suddenly jerking against your command as the tip of his dick practically slams into your g-spot repeatedly. Your legs are twitching, your nails are drawing blood from his back and you're sure everyone can hear a shrill voice screaming "Megumi!" over and over again.

It's music to his ears.

Megumi can't help but smirk at the way you're out of control. Your pussy is throbbing around his cock like crazy as he pistons into you and you're a mess underneath him, his main goal from the start. "Yeah, keep clamping around my cock baby, just like that." He groans into your ears between thrusts, letting your moans fuel his lust. "And touch that clit of yours like I taught yoy, hmm?"

You comply despite being a shaking mess from his incessant pounding, removing your trembling hand from his back and moving them to your clit. Your breathing is harsh as you rub your clit to his thrusts; the pleasure is intense, too intense for you. "Megumi, 's too much-"

"You can take it (name). Rub your clit."

He's greedy. He wants to see you convulse and soak his bed. He wants you to cum so hard you would be embarrassed for days, weeks even thinking about how you ruined his sheets permanently. It's like an ego trip for him, watching your fucked out self do what he wants for his pleasure.

And like the person you are, you do as commanded.

The scent of sex practically saturated the air of his room. You rub at your clit wildly, your back pressed against the sheets as he pounds into your g-spot. The coil in your belly is even more intense than your previous ones, wounding so tightly it makes you feel like you're going to burst. He doesn't let up in his pounding and you don't stop touching yourself for him, enjoying his lustful gaze as you both work together to bring yourselves to orgasm.

"You're close aren't you?" He curses underneath his breath, your cunt is sucking him tightly and he can feel his dick practically twitch inside you. His breath tickles against your skin, earning a shiver of pleasure from you. "You're gonna be good and cum with me?"

"Yes, yes…" you're screaming now, you're too close, too close to snapping and you don't care if anyone has heard you scream at this point. The whole buildimg probably knows you're fucking him at this point, something you'll deal with later. "anything for you Megumi!"

Your orgasm comes first in torrents, racking your body with violent shudders as your pussy twitches against his cock, liquid soaking his entire abdomen and the sheets beneath you. The sight of you cumming has him following suit soon after, his entire body seizing up as he pumps you full of his hot semen, jerking his hips to ride out the intense ecstasy you both feel until he's spent. Megumi slumps onto you weakly, hazy eyes peeking at your tired form through his long lashes before resting on his elbows to kiss you gently on your forehead.

"That felt great."

You're barely conscious when his lips leave your forehead, the intensity of your orgasm practically knocking you out. You stare back at him and he knows you're unsure of what to say as he dragged himself out of you and climbed off the bed to get a bath started.

Megumi had taken your virginity. It was a thing that just happened and he doesn't regret anything he did. Maybe post nut clarity is taking its time to hit him, but he doesn't care that he had just slept with you. He doesn't care he manipulated you to get his high or that he's sick for deriving pleasure watching you lose your virginity to him.

All that matters is that he wants to do more things to you again and he will.

Once he was sure the shower was hot enough, he walked back to the bed. You were sitting up now, your eyes glued onto the floor with his phone in your hands. He popped up a brow on seeing hot tears roll down your cheeks when you finally sighted him, clearly confused at your reaction.

"You… you planned this."

Oh great, you looked through his phone while he was gone and saw the notification of the period tracker with your name written all over it.

No use denying.

"You shouldn't look through other people's phones. That's bad."

He dodges the phone thrown in his direction easily and it clatters onto the wall instead. Ah well, he'll get a new one when you're done with your tantrum. "You sick bastard! You monitored my fucking cycle, just so that you could have sex with me?"

Megumi doesn't know why he doesn't feel any guilt despite you being in tears. You were a sweet girl who had just been used and it's not like you did anything to him to deserve it. Ignoring you, he got two towels from his drawer and walked back to where you sat, dropping one on your lap. "You should pee, then join me in the shower." He's so casual about everything, mindlessly wrapping a towel around his waist and it genuinely terrifies you. "Do you need help to stand?"

"Megumi, I trusted you. How could you-"

You don't complete your sentence when he pins you flat on your back, his body hovering above you. Your words get caught up in your throat as you gaze at his unreadable expression, dark blue eyes glaring down on you. "How could I ?" He breathes against your skin and you feel your legs twitch against your better judgment. "I could because I wanted you to myself."

You want to turn your head away from Megumi but he curls his long fingers around your chin and jerks it to face him. "Don't look away now (name) and don't pretend you hated what we did. You enjoyed every moment of it as much as I did."

"But you-"

Your breath becomes shaky when he pulls down his towel, now feeling your skin on his as he leans down until your lips almost touch. "But what? I didn't drug you. I didn't force myself on you (name). I never once lied to you." 

You don't resist when he lowers his lips to your neck, now kissing you gently, letting him trail his lips onto your jaw. He murmurs into your skin at your compliance, clearly pleased he had proven his point. Just as he was greedy to have a taste of you, you were willing to give him all of yourself until there's nothing else left to give.

"If you wanted a round two, you could have just asked."

As usual, you gave in to him again. Too easy.

special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @getonite @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @iluv-ace @lovely-maryj @slvdsjjk @bunniejeansz @kalerah02 @maraya-007 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026 @Sycomantis666 @thisismarisaaa (bolded cannot be tagged)

divider by- @/cafekitsune

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Until I Found You [2]

Pairing: prince!Yeosang x princess!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 13.5k 🤡

Trigger Warnings: emotional abuse, manipulation, mistreatment

Summary: It had been a while since Lady Park's firm rejection, and the fourth prince was beginning to believe he would never get over her. Though the heartbreak had made him more mature, one thing remained unchanged: his stubborn reluctance to marry. Convinced he would never find someone who could understand his pain as deeply as the general's wife, he was unprepared for the surprise life had in store for him—one that came in the form of a foreign princess.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"It's late. We should likely retire for the night. May I escort you back to your chambers, my princess?" Yeosang's deep yet gentle voice sent a ripple through your heart—one that had been starved of warmth ever since you set foot in this foreign land. His genuine kindness touched you deeply, far more than he could ever know. For once, it was not a gesture for the sake of appearances, but something sincere.

"N-no, thank you, Your Highness," you replied, rising from your seat beside him. "I remember the way back and can manage on my own just fine."

A flicker of what seemed like admiration crossed his face as he stood to meet your gaze. "On your own? Are you sure? The palace can be like a maze at night. I don't mind walking with you—"

"I'm sure, truly," you said, cutting him off with a small, shy smile. "I was planning to explore a little more anyway. You should rest. I'll… see you soon, my prince." You bowed slightly, your reluctance was evident as you quietly exited, leaving him behind before he could press the matter further.

As much as you longed to accept his offer, you couldn't bear the thought of him seeing the reality of your living conditions or the disdainful treatment you received from the palace servants. You were far too ashamed to let him witness such things—you didn't want him to see how lowly you were regarded. You wanted to keep things as they were; for him to see you as a person with dignity, not merely as an object or a tool of duty.

It's better this way, Prince Yeosang.

Making your way back to your quarters, you realised the fourth prince had been right—it was indeed like a maze, and you found yourself stumbling through the winding paths. After a few wrong turns and frustrating detours, you eventually caught sight of the familiar building you were staying in for the time being. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. No one was waiting for you anyway, or so you thought. Yet, something was off.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you noticed the lanterns in your chambers were already lit. Who could be there? Panic surged through you—could it be your father?

Your heart raced as you noticed a line of palace maids standing in the courtyard, leading up to your room. The servants were unfamiliar to you; not the ones assigned to your service. These belonged to someone else. Clearing your throat to steady yourself, you entered cautiously, nodding in acknowledgement as the maids bowed low and greeted you as you passed.

With a shaky breath, you finally stepped into your room, your nerves still rattled by the unknown. But then you saw a figure, his back turned to you. A small breath of relief escaped when you realised it wasn't your father—just your… fiancé. But perhaps you had been too quick to let your guard down.

Your heart stopped when he slowly turned to face you, his expression dark and menacing. "Where the hell have you been?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

A chill ran down your spine at his words. Why did he care? What did it matter to him? You weren't supposed to be seen together until the morning anyway, so what could he possibly want?

"I… I was just taking a walk around the palace, Your Highness," you stammered, your voice shaking. "I thought I'd familiarise myself—"

He cut you off with a scoff, stepping toward you. That was when you noticed the slight sway in his step. He was drunk.

"Taking a walk around by yourself?" he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "Have you not listened to anything I've said? We are to play the perfect couple, and how do you think it would look to others if you were seen wandering around without me by your side? What kind of husband would they think I am? From now on, you are not to leave this building without me. Do you understand me, woman?"

The harshness of his words stung, your heart sinking as his command set in. This wasn't just about appearances—this was control. You opened your mouth to protest, the thought of your newfound friendship with Yeosang flickering in your mind.

"But, my prince—" you gasped as his hand suddenly gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up into his cold, narrowed eyes.

"I said, am I understood?" he repeated, the menace in his voice unmistakable.

You trembled under his grasp, nodding tearfully. He loosened his grip, his hand trailing down your face and lingering at your neck. "Now, that's a good girl." A wave of fear swept over you as his hand continued to drift lower, sending a shudder through your body. Desperate, you forced yourself to speak.

"Y-you should rest, Your Highness," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. "I fear it wouldn't be appropriate for others to see you here so late. We're not officially married yet."

His eyes flickered with understanding, and his lips twisted into a sly grin. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overpowering.

"Finally," he said with a slurred chuckle. "You say something smart. I'll see you tomorrow then, princess."

With a mocking smile, he turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as you stood frozen in place, your heart pounding in your chest. You waited until you could no longer hear him before collapsing onto the floor, trembling as the tears you'd held back began to fall.

As you remained in the same spot for what felt like an eternity, your mind raced, torn between relief and dread. A small, bitter smile tugged at your lips—thank the heavens you hadn't let the fourth prince walk you back tonight. The thought of what could have transpired had Yeochan found him with you sent a shudder through your entire being. What if he had seen? What if no amount of convincing could have diffused his anger? The memory of his disgusting hands on you sent another shiver down your spine.

God help me, please...

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe steadily, but the reality of your situation weighed heavily on your chest, pressing down with an unbearable force. This was your future, this man—this cold, vicious prince—was to be your husband.

The thought filled you with despair. You had heard rumours about royal marriages, about how they were rarely based on love or affection, but to face it in such a brutal, personal way… it was more than you could have imagined. Tears continued to stream down your face, soaking the sleeves of your garment as you hugged yourself, wondering how you would survive this life bound to him.

Loneliness had been your greatest fear, but now, as you stared into the empty darkness of your chambers, it seemed that loneliness would have been kinder than the fate that awaited you at the ninth prince's side.

You weren't sure how long you had been sitting there, but you knew that rest was essential if you were to face breakfast the next morning. The thought of maintaining your composure—looking at least somewhat decent for the final shared meal before your father's departure, as he was finally returning to Ruhon—loomed large in your mind. It wasn't just a matter of appearance; the King and Queen of Joseon would also be present, and you needed all your strength to uphold your act around your father and your soon-to-be husband.

Like a weary spectre, you dragged yourself to your bed, the weight of the evening's events still pressing heavily on your shoulders. With a sigh of resignation, you removed the outer layer of your hanbok, letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap before climbing into the bed, the comforter feeling like a fragile barrier against the cold reality of your situation.

You pulled the covers close, seeking solace in their warmth, as a fresh tear slipped down your cheek. "It'll be okay," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible. As exhaustion finally overcame you, you closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace amid the turmoil.

The following morning, the air in the grand dining hall was thick with formality and unspoken tension. As you sat at the breakfast table, trying to compose yourself, the King of Joseon turned to your father, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Are you truly certain it is acceptable to proceed with the ceremony without your presence, or that of the Queen of Ruhon, or even Royal Concubine Sarisu to witness the princess wed, Your Majesty?"

Your father, seated across from you, stifled a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a wicked satisfaction. He shook his head lightly before turning to you with a smug grin that made your stomach churn.

"No need," he responded, his voice laced with mockery, clearly intended for you to hear. "Princess Sarisu is my most independent daughter. She'll do fine without us. I'm sure her mother would love to see her off, but the lady is too weary to travel the distance. We'll leave our princess in your good hands, Your Majesty."

His words sent a cold shiver down your spine. You could feel the blood boiling beneath your skin, your fists trembling as you clutched the fabric of your hanbok, desperately trying to maintain your composure. Because that was a goddamned lie. Your mother was fine, perfectly capable of making the journey. This was his revenge, his way of punishing you for defying him.

While you were more than fine with the fact that you might never see him again, the realisation that you would miss the chance to see your mother one last time before your marriage struck you like a blow. She had only one daughter, and now she wouldn't even be there to witness your wedding—an event that, though not of your choosing, still held immense significance. The cruelty of your father was overwhelming, and a deep bitterness settled in your heart.

How could this man, the one who was supposed to protect and cherish you, be so heartless? The thought of him returning home to your mother, likely to mistreat her out of spite, filled you with both dread and simmering rage. But there was nothing you could do. You were trapped in this gilded cage, your future bound to a man you did not love, and your past severed by the very person who should have loved you most.

The ruler of Joseon, perceptive as ever, was quick to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface between you and your father. In an attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere, he let out a light chuckle. "I understand. Fear not, we will do well to take care of the princess. Right, Ninth Prince Yeochan?" His Majesty asked, his gaze shifting to his son seated beside you.

At the mention of his name, you stiffened, feeling your fiancé's arm snake around your shoulder. The contact was anything but comforting. Your fists clenched tightly around the skirt of your hanbok, desperately trying to stop your hands from trembling. Yeochan smiled, a smile that looked convincing enough to anyone who wasn't aware of the truth, and nodded, pulling you uncomfortably closer to him.

"Of course, Father," he replied, his tone dripping with false sincerity. "I will cherish her like the blessing she was bestowed upon me." His sweet words drew a coo from both his father and Her Majesty, their expressions softening with approval.

But your heart only hammered in dread.

Couldn't they hear the subtle sarcasm lacing his words? The forced affection in his actions? You felt as though you were the only one who could see through the facade, the only one who understood that those words, far from being a promise, were a warning. The weight of your fate pressed down on you even more heavily as you realised that no one would come to your aid. To everyone else, this was a union to be celebrated—but for you, it was the beginning of a nightmare.

"Is that right? I do hope you mean what you're saying, as this is what keeps the ties between Joseon and Ruhon strong."

The unexpected deep voice reverberated through the hall, catching everyone off guard. But for you, it was like a sudden gust of wind calming the storm within. Almost afraid that his presence was a mere figment of your imagination, you slowly lifted your head. When your eyes met the familiar figure standing at the entrance, you breathed a small sigh of relief. It really was the fourth prince in the flesh.

Oh, thank god.

Before your fiancé could react, the Queen cleared her throat, her voice laced with surprise. "Prince Yeosang, what a surprise. What brings you here, my son?"

He stepped forward, bowing respectfully to his parents. "I heard a send-off event was being held for the King of Ruhon this morning and thought I'd join," he responded, his tone calm and composed. He then turned to your father, his expression respectful. "I've come to make up for my short presence at the banquet last night, Your Majesty. I apologise for not being very social."

Your father, ever the opportunist, bit his lip to suppress a smirk, clearly amused by the situation. "Why, of course, Fourth Prince Yeosang. Please do join us."

You could almost feel the anticipation radiating from your father, eager for the drama he expected the once-rebellious prince to stir. But you knew better. The fourth prince was far too mature, too composed, to indulge in such pettiness. His presence served as a silent reminder of what true nobility looked like, a stark contrast to the cruel games your father played.

As he took a seat, his calm demeanour brought you a small measure of peace. "Good morning, my princess," he greeted you with a kind smile, acknowledging his younger brother with only a brief nod. For a fleeting moment, the weight of your situation seemed to lift.

"Good morning, my prince," you replied softly, subtly shrugging your soon-to-be husband's hand from your shoulder.

Amid the turmoil surrounding you, at least there was someone who saw through the facade, someone who, though he may not openly challenge it, was a beacon of quiet strength and reassurance.

"Careful, princess. Stare at my brother any longer, and people might mistake him for your fiancé instead," Yeochan whispered threateningly into your ear, his voice laced with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl. "Remember who you belong to."

You swallowed hard, a shiver running down your spine as you quickly averted your gaze from Yeosang. "Y-yes, Your Highness," you murmured obediently, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to suppress the fear gnawing at you.

Unbeknownst to you, none of this escaped the watchful eye of the fourth prince. He had always been perceptive, and though he knew that no arranged marriage could be perfect from the start, especially in a place as politically charged as the palace, what he saw didn't sit right with him. You were the first person within the palace he had ever considered a friend and he would hate to see you trapped in a marriage too unhappy.

Yeosang's gaze softened as he watched you, his heart heavy with unspoken concern. He knew he couldn't intervene openly, not without causing a scandal, but he would find a way to help you. For now, all he could offer was the comfort of his presence, a silent promise that he would be there if you ever needed him.

After a tension-filled meal, it was finally time to send the ruler of Ruhon off. The air was thick with formalities and forced smiles as everyone gathered in the courtyard. Your father, ever the performer, approached you with a sneer hidden beneath a mask of fatherly affection. He leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"Goodbye, my daughter. Have a good life here," he whispered with venom, pulling you into a brief, cold embrace. The act was flawless, his expression one of tender care, but the words he spoke cut deep.

As he began to pull away, you instinctively reached out, gripping his sleeve in a desperate attempt to appeal to whatever shred of humanity he might have left. "Father, please… I've done what you asked. Just let Mother be."

He scoffed, his eyes flicking down at you with a mix of disdain and amusement. "You think too highly of yourselves. I have more important things to do than to toy with her." His voice was icy, his words dripping with indifference. "I'd worry more about myself if I were you," he added, his tone dismissive.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, heading toward his carriage without so much as a backward glance. You stood there, the sting of his final words echoing in your mind as he disappeared from view. The realisation that you were truly alone in this foreign land, with no family to support you, settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

As the crowd began to disperse, your fiancé approached with his usual display of false affection, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Come, love. Let me escort you back," he said, maintaining his flawless act. To those unaware of the truth, his performance was convincing, hiding the darkness beneath his smile.

Before he could take your arm, however, Yeosang stepped forward, his presence both unexpected and reassuring. "Wait, my princess!" he called out, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. "Didn't we agree to exchange more literary knowledge?" His words caught everyone off guard, especially his parents and brother. With infectious enthusiasm, he turned to the King. "Father, you won't believe it! Her Highness is incredibly well-versed in poetry and a great admirer of Shin Sukju's works. Would it be alright if I borrowed her for a bit? We'll just be in the library, and it would be a wonderful opportunity for me to bond with my future sister-in-law."

Before the ninth prince could protest, His Majesty clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, really? That's impressive! Yes, yes, like-minded young people like yourselves should definitely spend time together and learn from each other. Please, go ahead."

The Queen nodded eagerly in agreement, her eyes lighting up with genuine joy. Both she and the King seemed pleased to see Yeosang stepping out of his usual isolation and making an effort to connect with someone, even if it was the foreign princess.

"Thank you, Your Majesties," you said respectfully, bowing to your soon-to-be in-laws, not forgetting to offer a slight bow to Yeochan as well. "I shall see you soon, Your Highness."

With a gentle smile, Yeosang gestured for you to follow him. "Come, my princess." Feeling your fiancé's gaze burning into your back, you hesitated only briefly before walking away, finding solace in the fourth prince's calm and composed presence. Together, you left the courtyard, leaving your betrothed behind with a frustrated scowl hidden behind his practised facade.

Lost in your thoughts about how Yeochan would likely react once you returned from this meeting with the fourth prince, you barely noticed you had arrived at your destination.

"We're here, princess."

His voice snapped you out of your trance, and you looked around with wide eyes, startled by the unfamiliar surroundings. "Wh-what—I thought we were heading to the library, Your Highness?" you stammered, taking in the serene view of the cherry blossom garden, the very place where you had first met him. The pavilion stood before you, just as it had that day.

Yeosang smirked, gesturing for you to take a seat. "That was clearly a lie. We wouldn't be able to converse freely if we were in the library. Now, come sit with me."

With a soft chuckle, you complied, both of you settling down opposite each other. His mischievous grin hinted at the rebellious side everyone had whispered about, and you found yourself amused by it.

"Besides," he added, his tone more serious now, "I had a feeling you could use some fresh air. I hope this is alright with you. We can always leave if you prefer."

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. There was something disarming about his considerate nature, something that made the weight on your chest feel a little lighter. You shook your head with a small smile.

"Not at all. This is more than okay."

As your gaze drifted toward the barren cherry blossom trees, the fourth prince couldn't help but notice the sorrow and quiet despair reflected in your eyes. The weight of your situation was not lost on him. To be sent away to a foreign land, bound in marriage to a man you hardly knew, and expected to act as though all was well—it was a fate he could scarcely imagine. Though he couldn't change your circumstances, he hoped, as a friend, to ease your burden somehow.

"Is... everything alright, princess?" Yeosang ventured cautiously, recalling how the ninth prince had whispered something that seemed to shatter your composure in mere seconds. The change in your demeanour had not escaped his notice, and it unsettled him. What could Yeochan have said to unnerve you so thoroughly? The thought troubled him, especially seeing how uncomfortable you appeared around the man you were meant to wed.

You gulped, offering a polite nod without fully meeting his eyes. "Yes, of course. It will take some time for me to adjust to my new life here, but I will be fine, my prince. Your concern is most kind."

His smile was faint, knowing full well your words were more for courtesy than truth. He was aware that despite the bond of friendship forming between you, there was still much distance between your hearts. He had no right to press further, not yet.

"I see," he replied, his tone thoughtful. "I hope Prince Yeochan is treating you well. My brother is known for his ambition and his... bluntness, but he should make a suitable husband... wouldn't you say?"

You struggled to maintain the smile that barely clung to your lips, biting down hard enough on your lower lip that you feared it might bleed. "I suppose... I cannot truly say. We aren't married yet, after all. He's been kind to me thus far."

In public, at least.

Determined not to dwell on your unhappy thoughts and wanting to make the most of the time spent with your first and only friend, you straightened up, beaming at him. "So, tell me, Your Highness, what are some things you think Joseon does better than Ruhon?"

Yeosang narrowed his eyes playfully at your cheeky question, a spark of mischief dancing in them. "Ah, yes, always up for a good debate, are we? I shall prove to you that this nation is indeed worth leaving Ruhon for," he quipped, his tone light-hearted and playful.

His jest made you chuckle, the weight on your shoulders lifting just a little. You knew, of course, that no argument could ever make you truly feel at ease about your forced departure from your homeland, but his attempt to lift your spirits was enough to make you feel lighter at the moment.

With that, the conversation shifted into a lively exchange. He launched into stories of Joseon's cultural achievements, its rich history of scholarship, and the honour of its warriors. He spoke of the grand palaces, the festivals that brought the people together, and the scholars who shaped the nation's identity. You found yourself engrossed in his tales, the passion in his voice making even the smallest details feel important.

In return, you shared stories of Ruhon, the traditions that bound your people, and the unique customs that defined your homeland. You spoke of the festivals under the moon, where dancers twirled to the beat of drums, and how the scent of spices lingered in the air long after the market stalls closed. You told him about your childhood, the way your mother would braid your hair by the hearth, and the songs the village elders would sing when the harvest season came to an end.

The conversation flowed easily, each of you learning more about the other's world. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt like you could simply be yourself. Yeosang's genuine interest in your stories and his willingness to share his own made you feel seen, something you hadn't experienced since your arrival.

Through this exchange, you felt the bond between you deepen. It was as though, amidst all the uncertainty, you had found a friend—a true companion who saw you not as a foreign princess, but as someone with a rich life of her own. It gave you comfort to know that in this unfamiliar world, there was someone who shared your love for learning, who appreciated the differences between your homelands, and who, in his own quiet way, made you feel less alone.

After listening to you gush about missing the sweets of Ruhon, his eyes lit up. "Oh, we have this snack called Yakgwa! It's heavenly, you must try it! I'll have the kitchen servants prepare some for us," he said enthusiastically, already rising to get things arranged.

Before he could move further, a sigh escaped his lips as he spotted his eunuch rushing over, looking frazzled. "Your Highness! We were told you were in the library, but you were nowhere to be found. The royal tutor is waiting, and it would not do to keep him any longer!"

The prince's expression immediately darkened, irritation flickering in his eyes. It seemed as though he was about to protest when, unexpectedly, he said something you hadn't anticipated. "I understand, Eunuch Hwang. But shouldn't you first acknowledge the princess and show her the respect due before all else?"

Your jaw dropped slightly at his words. That was the last thing you had expected him to say. He really was different. Gratefulness flooded through you as the eunuch, now flustered, hastily bowed. "M-my apologies, Your Highness! This servant greets Princess Sarisu, the future Ninth Princess of Joseon."

The reminder of your impending title made you shift uncomfortably, but you nodded in acknowledgement, trying to keep your composure. The fourth prince huffed in mild annoyance, then turned back to you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, princess, it seems I have lessons to attend. But don't worry, we'll get you those sweets tomorrow."

Your breath caught in your throat. "T-tomorrow?" The idea of seeing him again was comforting, but the thought of how your fiancé would react twisted your insides with dread.

Yeosang, oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, smiled warmly. "Yes, tomorrow. I'll escort you myself."

Your eyes widened in panic. You shook your head vigorously. "N-no! I'll come meet you myself!" Something flickered in his gaze, a quiet realisation, but he didn't press you. His understanding smile remained, though you could sense that he was beginning to notice something wasn't quite right. "Of course, princess. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Same place, same time."

You nodded, your voice soft as you repeated his words. "Same place, same time. See you, Your Highness."

With one last smile, he bowed his head slightly before turning to follow his eunuch, leaving you standing there, heart racing at the thought of tomorrow—and the inevitable confrontation you might have to face.

That evening, you returned to your chambers with a heart heavy with dread, expecting the ninth prince to be waiting, but to your surprise, the room was empty. Not a single soul lingered—not even the group of servants assigned to you. It seemed they hadn't bothered to wait for you to return and dismiss them.

With a tired shrug, you went about your routine, refreshing yourself and settling down with one of the few books available in your quarters. But as you read, a furrow creased your brow. The sky outside had grown dark, and no one had come to light the lanterns. You waited for a while longer, hoping someone would arrive, but it became clear no one was coming.

Sighing, you rose from your seat and made your way to the storeroom to fetch the necessary items. It was a menial task, but with your own hands, you lit the lanterns one by one, the soft glow slowly filling your chambers. Dusting off your hands, you gazed around at the lit room with a small sense of pride, but that brief satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by the rumbling of your stomach.

Crap, I'm starving...

The usual time for your meal had long passed, and still, no one had come to bring you food. You stood by the entrance of your cold, lonely chamber, waiting, your stomach growling louder with each passing minute. The chill in the air began to creep into your bones, but still, there was no sign of anyone.

After what felt like an hour, the cold became unbearable, and you retreated back inside, pulling the covers of your bed over yourself. Laying there somberly, you couldn't help but wonder if this was Yeochan's punishment. His way of showing you the consequences of spending time with his brother.

You hadn't eaten much that morning. If only you'd known that would be your only meal of the day, you might have had more. But now, all you could do was hug your empty stomach and curl into your side, trying desperately to fall asleep on an empty belly.

As you curled up beneath the covers, the ache in your stomach gnawing at you, a small smile crept onto your face. Despite the discomfort and the coldness of your empty chambers, the thought of tomorrow brought you a glimmer of warmth. You were going to see Yeosang again, and that simple fact made everything feel a little more bearable.

Tomorrow, there would be no pretence, no masks to wear. Just you and your friend, sharing stories, and learning more about each other's worlds. That hope was enough to chase away the shadows of the evening, if only for a while. You sighed softly, your mind finally quiet, and with that thought, you allowed sleep to take you, clinging to the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

The next morning, your chambers remained eerily quiet, a clear sign that no one had any intention of attending to you. You rubbed your growling stomach, frowning as the realisation sank in that you'd be left to fend for yourself again. Sighing softly, you went about getting dressed, thankful that the task wasn't overly difficult. Back home, you and your mother had grown accustomed to doing things on your own, so you managed just fine. The hanbok, with its simpler design compared to Ruhon's attire, was much easier to slip into, and while your hair wasn't as neatly styled as the palace servants would have done it, it was at least presentable.

The gnawing ache in your stomach remained, reminding you that no meal had been provided. You bit your lip, trying to push the discomfort aside. But then, a glimmer of hope sparked within you as you remembered Prince Yeosang's promise from the day before. He had mentioned getting the kitchen to prepare some sweets—perhaps that would be your salvation today.

Enduring the hunger, you bided your time until noon, your anticipation slowly building with each passing minute. By the time you made your way toward the cherry blossom garden, your heart was fluttering with excitement. The thought of seeing Yeosang again brought a warmth that softened the cold indifference of the palace. Even if everything else seemed uncertain, you found solace in the one friendship that was blossoming amid the darkness.

As you approached the garden, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the sight of the familiar pavilion and the thought of spending time with the fourth prince making everything feel, at least for now, a little more bearable.

"Good afternoon, princess," the familiar deep voice called out, filling you with a sense of warmth and relief. It was all you needed to feel better. As you turned toward the table, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the colorful array of snacks displayed before you. The vivid hues of the treats beckoned, a stark contrast to the dullness of your morning.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," you greeted Yeosang, your voice lighter than it had been all day. As you moved to settle down, a loud growl erupted from your stomach, the sound echoing embarrassingly between you both. You quickly bit your lip, cheeks heating up in mortification.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Haven't you had your breakfast yet?" he asked, concern replacing his usual teasing tone.

You cleared your throat, scrambling for an excuse. "I-I… I was just too excited to try these," you gestured to the snacks on the table, forcing a smile. "You know, had to make space for them."

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, clearly unconvinced. "Absolutely not," he chided gently. "You know better than to skip such an important meal for some sweets." His voice was stern yet filled with genuine care, a tone you hadn't heard directed toward you in so long. "Stay here. I'll get you some proper food."

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you watched his reliable figure move away, leaving your side to fulfill his promise. You blinked back the sudden tears that welled up in your eyes.

God, why couldn't he be the one you were meant to marry? You hugged yourself tighter, the thought slipping into your mind unbidden, making the situation even harder to bear. The fourth prince's kindness, his gentle presence—it was all you wanted. Yet, your fate was bound to another. Still, in this fleeting moment, you allowed yourself the indulgence of wondering what it would have been like if things were different.

Yeosang returned swiftly, carrying a tray of steaming food with a determined look in his eyes. "Here you go," he said as he set the meal before you. The warm, savoury aroma made your stomach ache even more with hunger, and despite the embarrassment that still lingered, you couldn't deny how much you needed this.

"Eat," he instructed softly, his tone leaving no room for protest. You nodded, grateful beyond words, and dug into the meal. The warmth of the food instantly soothed the emptiness gnawing at your insides, and you couldn't help the small hum of satisfaction that escaped your lips. He smiled, watching you with silent approval.

"You shouldn't go without food, princess. How else will you have the energy to put me in my place when we debate Joseon versus Ruhon?" he teased lightly, the tension lifting between you.

You chuckled, swallowing a bite. "You have a point, Your Highness. Can't have you winning all the arguments, now, can I?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want that either." His voice was rich with amusement, the sound easing the tightness that had settled in your chest earlier.

Once you had your fill of the warm meal, he pushed the tray of sweets toward you. "Now you can enjoy these without starving yourself."

Your eyes brightened as you looked at the colourful treats. "Thank you," you murmured, popping a piece of Yakgwa into your mouth. The honeyed flavour melted on your tongue, every bite as delightful as he had described. As you enjoyed the sweets, the conversation between the two of you flowed like a river, smooth and endless.

You began with light topics—favourite poems, childhood stories—before moving on to deeper discussions. Yeosang shared captivating tales of Joseon's history, recounting stories of ancient kings and battles long past, while you spoke of Ruhon's traditions, the bright stars in its night skies, and... your mother.

"You must be close to her," he observed with a gentle smile.

You nodded, your chest tightening at the thought of your mother. "Very. She's the one thing I truly couldn't bear leaving behind."

He glanced down, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out to you but stopped himself. "Perhaps you'll see her again someday."

"Perhaps..." you whispered, though the doubt in your voice was unmistakable. You quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, eager to escape the painful thought, diving back into the differences between Ruhon and Joseon.

Yeosang listened closely, his curiosity evident in the way he soaked in every detail you shared. In turn, he painted vivid pictures of life in Joseon, filled with colour and history. The two of you became engrossed in friendly debates, passionately defending your homelands' best qualities.

As the conversation wore on, it became lighter, drifting toward more personal topics—his love for archery, your fondness for dancing, and even the odd rumours that floated around the palace. Laughter came easily between you, the weight of your circumstances momentarily forgotten.

"I think you'd be excellent at archery," he remarked thoughtfully.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing. "Me? With a bow and arrow? I'd probably end up shooting myself in the foot."

"I seriously doubt that," he teased. "But if you ever want to give it a try, I'd be more than happy to teach you."

"Perhaps one day," you replied with a soft smile, savouring the thought of a future where you might be free enough to take him up on the offer.

The hours passed unnoticed as you shared stories, thoughts, and dreams. The afternoon sun cast golden rays over the pavilion, and in his presence, you felt lighter—like you weren't just a pawn in a political marriage, but a person with your own desires.

You returned to your empty quarters that evening, but the silence and cold no longer bothered you. After the warmth and joy of the day spent with Yeosang, the loneliness felt distant, almost irrelevant. You were more than full, not just from the food but from the conversation and laughter shared under the cherry blossoms. The routine of solitude upon your return had become something you could bear, as long as your afternoons were filled with his presence.

The same pattern unfolded the next day and the entire week after that. Each morning, you would wake to the empty quarters, handle your own needs, and then make your way to the pavilion where he would be waiting. Together, you found comfort in each other's company. He was your first and only friend here, someone who understood your situation without having to ask too many questions. Over time, a mutual understanding and respect blossomed between you, both of you finding solace in these stolen moments.

You learned more about him each day, his quirks and passions, while he listened to your stories of Ruhon with genuine interest. The hours flew by in those afternoons, filled with the easy flow of conversation, laughter, and sometimes, comfortable silence. At this point, you had grown content with the way things were. If nothing changed, you thought you could be fine living like this forever. The thought of it made your heart flutter—an afternoon with the fourth prince, a quiet return to your quarters at night, and no pressure from the palace or your impending marriage to Prince Yeochan.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon one evening, casting golden light over the pavilion, Yeosang broke the comfortable quiet. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you back?" His voice held a note of longing, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you truly wanted.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart stir in a way you weren't ready to admit. "I'll be fine," you assured him, trying to steady your voice and the fluttering in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow. Same place, same time."

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on you a moment longer. "Same place, same time," he repeated softly, his voice betraying the unspoken emotions that hung between you.

As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you until you disappeared from view, your heart both aching and content at once. These moments with him had become your escape, a reprieve from the storm looming over your future.

For now, that was enough.

Your steps slowed to a crawl as you neared your quarters, a stark contrast to the usual emptiness. Tonight, the windows were brightly lit, and the servants were suddenly lined up like soldiers, just as they had been that fateful night. The last time this had happened, Prince Yeochan had come, drunk and unpredictable.

Dread twisted in your gut as you took in the scene, your heart pounding so hard you could hear the frantic rhythm in your ears. What was he going to do this time? Memories of that night came flooding back—his sharp words, his cold grip, the way he loomed over you as if daring you to resist. But you knew there was no escape. This was your fate. Whatever he wanted, you had no choice but to obey. It was your duty. The thought of it made your heart sink, heavy with the weight of powerlessness.

As you neared the entrance, your eyes landed on the palace maids standing by, their smug smiles and knowing looks making your stomach churn. They had seen this before and even enjoyed it. They were eager for your downfall, eagerly awaiting the moment you'd be humiliated, just like last time. Their bows were mocking, insincere, dripping with scorn.

"Welcome back, Your Highness. Oh dear, perhaps we should've given you a heads up," one of them sneered, her voice laced with false sweetness. "The ninth prince has come to visit."

Your throat tightened as the words registered. Yeochan was inside, waiting. You could already feel the walls closing in around you, suffocating you before you even stepped foot inside. The fear of what awaited you on the other side of that door made your legs feel like lead. But you forced yourself to move, to step forward, to face whatever punishment he had in store. Because you had no choice.

This was your life now.

And as you crossed the threshold, you wished—just for a fleeting moment—that you were back in the cherry blossom garden with Yeosang, where everything felt safe and warm. But that dream was far away now, and reality was waiting for you behind that door, cruel and unrelenting.

"There you are, princess," Yeochan's voice slithered through the room, low and deliberate, as you entered the chamber. Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor, your body instinctively bowing deeply before him.

"G-good evening, Your Highness," you whispered, your voice betraying the trembling fear coursing through you.

He eyed you up and down, his silence stretching uncomfortably before a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't one of amusement but of something darker. "You seem well. A little too well for my liking. A week with no one to serve you, and yet here you are—more content than anything, out gallivanting every single day." He took a step forward, his words laced with accusation. "Care to tell me where you've been all day?"

You felt your hands clutch the fabric of your skirt, squeezing it so tightly you feared it might tear. Your heart raced, the walls closing in around you. "I-I…" The words caught in your throat, terror and shame making it impossible to answer. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

His smirk deepened, his gaze sharp as a blade. "The fourth prince must've been very good to you, hm?" His voice was dripping with venom. "What do you think would happen if word got out? That it wasn't enough he once tried to steal General Park's wife, but now he's after his younger brother's betrothed too?"

His words hit you like a cold slap, your blood running ice-cold as your knees gave way beneath you, sinking to the floor before him. You felt weak and powerless under his cruel, threatening gaze.

A dangerous laugh echoed through the chamber as he watched you crumble. "Perhaps then Father would finally take proper measures against him," he mused darkly, the amusement in his tone quickly vanishing. He turned, his expression hardening into a cold glare. "I've honestly had it with you. But then again, it's no surprise. Your kind would go out and whore around the first chance they get. And of all people, you had to embarrass me by choosing that degenerate?"

Tears welled in your eyes, fear gripping you tightly. While you might've anticipated his wrath, you couldn't allow him to drag the fourth prince into this, to ruin the only thing that had brought you solace in this foreign, suffocating life.

Not Yeosang—he didn't deserve that.

"I… We didn't do anything, Your Highness. We're just friends," you pleaded, the tears now spilling down your cheeks. "If you wish, I promise not to see him again. Just... leave His Highness alone."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Yeochan's smirk returned, more sinister than before. He knelt before you, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Really? Is that what you want?"

You nodded frantically, swallowing hard. "Yes... please."

His smirk widened. "That depends on your performance then, doesn't it? Don't let me down, princess."

The weight of his threat hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as he rose and walked past you, leaving you kneeling in the cold chamber, your tears staining the floor beneath you.

I'm so sorry, Prince Yeosang...

"Where is she?" the fourth prince murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the steaming bowls of food slowly losing their warmth. The servants had prepared everything right on time, just as they had done every day for the past week. And every time, without fail, you arrived promptly, your face lighting up the moment you stepped into the garden. But today, there was no sign of you.

He tried to brush off his unease, telling himself there must be a simple explanation. Maybe you were running into trouble with your quarters, or maybe your attire or hair was taking longer than usual. Yeosang's mind flickered to the oversized shoes you'd been given, his brow furrowing. He'd reminded you to ask for better-fitted ones, hadn't he? What if you'd tripped because of them? The thought made him chuckle lightly, trying to dispel the growing knot of concern in his chest. No need to overthink it, he thought.

Maybe she overslept.

The image of you with tousled hair and sleepy eyes brought a smile to his face, one that lingered a little too long. Slowly, realisation dawned on him. Do friends think of each other this way...? he wondered. Since the day you two had become close, he found that thoughts of you followed him everywhere. Even when he wasn't with you, his mind strayed back to your laughter, the way you spoke about Ruhon with such fondness, the light in your eyes when you teased him about Joseon. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

But now, as he stared at the empty seat across from him and the bowl of stew cooling in front of it, his thoughts shifted from fondness to worry. You'd never been late before. Where were you?

The prince's fingers drummed anxiously against the wooden table. As the minutes stretched on, the gnawing feeling in his stomach grew worse. What if something had happened to you?

No, don't overthink it, he told himself again, trying to keep calm. But with each passing moment, his composure faltered, his mind conjuring all sorts of possibilities. You were alone in this unfamiliar palace, with no allies but him. He knew what kind of dangers lurked in the shadows, especially for someone as isolated as you.

He stood up abruptly, unable to shake the dread that was slowly taking hold of him. He had to find you. Whatever had delayed you, he couldn't just sit there, waiting.

"Please be okay, princess..." he muttered under his breath, his heart clenching at the thought of something being wrong. He grabbed his cloak, striding purposefully out of the pavilion. He wouldn't rest until he knew you were safe.

His feet led him instinctively to your quarters, a place he'd never seen but had always pictured to be grand and befitting of your status. Yet, as he slowed his steps and approached the area, his brows furrowed in disbelief. The quarters before him were anything but grand. They were one of the more neglected chambers in the palace, the kind usually reserved for lesser guests, not for someone soon to become the Ninth Princess of Joseon.

This... can't be right, he thought, his gaze hardening as he took in the sight. The King and Queen never would have agreed to this if they knew. Who had placed you here? His mind immediately turned to the only person capable of such pettiness—his brother.

His jaw clenched at the thought, but before he could mull over it further, the palace maids stationed at the entrance of your chambers bowed deeply.

"These servants greet Your Highness," they said in unison.

He nodded in acknowledgement, but when he tried to take a step forward, they subtly moved to block his path.

"Deepest apologies, Prince Yeosang," one of them said, her tone laced with formality, "but Her Highness the princess wishes not to see anyone today."

His status as your future brother-in-law, rather than a direct family member or fiancé, dawned on him. It would be inappropriate for him to insist on seeing you, no matter how much he wanted to make sure you were alright. Still, concern gnawed at him, and he couldn't help but ask, "Is she okay?"

The maid closest to him bit down on a smirk, as if sharing an inside joke with herself. "Yes, Your Highness. Why do you ask? The ninth prince was just here last night. He left after ensuring she was fine."

His heart sank. Yeochan was here? His mind raced. Did he find out about our meetings? Knowing his brother's volatile pride, it wouldn't have been surprising if he had lashed out. The thought of Yeochan taking his anger out on you made his chest tighten.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask his unease. "O-oh, I see... I was just uhh... hoping to meet the princess for another study session," he said, forcing a smile.

The maid bowed again, her gesture more dismissive this time. "Perhaps another time, Prince Yeosang."

He blinked, feeling the sting of rejection but knowing there was little he could do at this moment. He took a step back, his heart heavy. "Perhaps..." he echoed softly.

With a final nod, the fourth prince turned and walked away, his mind filled with worry. His thoughts circled back to you—your absence today, the state of your quarters, and the lingering fear that something was terribly wrong. He had to find a way to see you, to make sure you were safe.

Wait for me, princess.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. Since you've been good, Prince Yeochan is rewarding you with dinner tonight. Enjoy," one of the maids said, her tone dripping with insincerity as she and the others stepped into your room. They carried trays with the same paltry rice and side dishes they had served you since your first day here. But despite the meagre meal, your empty stomach didn't care. After being starved all day, anything edible seemed like a feast.

Scrambling over to the dining table, you thanked them softly, even though they didn't deserve it. You sat down quickly, hands trembling as you began to eat, the food filling the gnawing ache inside you. But the relief was short-lived. You paused mid-bite when you noticed the smug expressions plastered on the maids' faces. Something was coming, and you dreaded it.

You wiped your mouth with shaky fingers and whispered, "Y-you may go."

One of the maids let out a sarcastic coo. "Oh, but princess, don't you want to hear all about the fourth prince's surprise appearance today? He came all this way to see you."

Your body froze, the warmth of the food in your stomach doing nothing to quell the sudden chill that overtook you. Yeosang was here...? The realisation hit you like a blow, and your heart clenched. You tightened your grip on the utensils, willing your hands to stop shaking.

"If we didn't know any better, we'd think he was your lover... but you wouldn't do that to your betrothed now, would you?" another maid added with a wicked smirk. Her words cut through you like a knife, but you dared not look up, staring at your food with tears welling in your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to force them away.

"N-no..." you choked out, barely above a whisper. "I wouldn't."

"That's what I thought," the leader of the group sneered. "After all, what would people say if they knew? The ninth prince would be furious, don't you think?"

You kept your gaze locked on the table, your chest tightening as they circled around you like vultures, feeding off your discomfort.

Finally, with a mocking bow, they left the room, closing the door behind them with a soft click. The moment they were gone, your head dropped into your hands, the weight of their words pressing down on you. The food sat heavy in your stomach now, each bite you had taken feeling like a betrayal.

Yeosang had come to see you, and you weren't there. You could only imagine how worried he must have been, wondering why you hadn't shown up today. And now, all you could think about was the thinly veiled threat in the maids' words.

Tears finally escaped, sliding down your cheeks as you sat in the silence of your room. You hadn't done anything wrong, but somehow, everything felt wrong—like you were trapped in a cage with no way out.

Lying in bed, Yeosang couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—how you'd smile, your voice when you spoke about the things you loved, the way your eyes lit up over the simplest things, like a plate of sweets. He thought he understood love when he'd pined for Lady Park, but this... this was different. The weight in his chest was heavier, the ache more painful. With the general's wife, there was always distance, a barrier he could never cross. But with you, everything felt natural—like the world aligned whenever you were near.

He tossed and turned, trying to push the thoughts away, but they wouldn't leave him. His heart was breaking all over again, only this time it felt worse, deeper than before. He had waited for you at the pavilion every day, hoping that maybe you'd just been delayed the first time. But as the days passed and you never showed up again, the hope he clung to slowly withered. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Each day, he'd pass by your quarters, but the doors remained tightly shut, without a single sign of life behind them. He thought of knocking, but the way the palace maids had treated him before made it clear he wasn't welcome. His mind raced with questions: What happened to you? Were you okay? Were you eating? Were you sleeping soundly, or were you struggling, just like him?

The thoughts gnawed at him, and finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Throwing off the blankets, he pushed himself out of bed. He needed air, something to clear his mind from the torture of endless questions. He slipped on his outer robe and quietly made his way out of his chambers, the palace eerily silent in the late hours of the night.

His feet led him on a path of their own, and before he realised it, he found himself in the garden that faced the small pond where the two of you had sat together on the night of the banquet. The memories hit him with such force that he had to stop and catch his breath. You had looked so beautiful that night, the soft glow of the lanterns reflecting in your eyes. It had been a fleeting moment, but it had meant so much to him. He was sure it had meant something to you too.

To his surprise, the lanterns were still there, hanging gently in the night breeze. They were the same ones from that night. Perhaps they'd been left up because of the upcoming royal wedding, a reminder of what was supposed to be a grand celebration.

The fourth prince stood there, staring at the pond, the reflections of the lanterns dancing across the water. He remembered how you'd sat beside him, how close you'd been, how easily the conversation had flowed between you. And now, you were gone. Not physically, but... gone from his life in a way that made him feel lost, like a part of himself had disappeared too.

A sharp pain gripped his chest. Was this love? If it was, it felt like too much to bear. He had thought losing Lady Park was painful, but this was different. The weight of it felt unbearable, like he was being crushed under the possibility that he might never see you again.

His thoughts were interrupted when his ears caught the faint sound of someone crying. He froze, his breath hitching as the soft sobs pierced the quiet night. For a moment, he dismissed it as nothing more than the echoes of sorrow often heard within the palace walls. The palace staff loved to whisper of haunted spirits—the restless souls of those who had taken their own lives, trapped within the suffocating confines of court life. Such tales were frequent, and he knew better than to believe them.

Still, the sound unnerved him, not because of any fear of ghosts, but because it reminded him of the very real torment experienced by so many who lived under the weight of the royal family's rules. Perhaps it was just another of the King's properties—a concubine or a servant—mourning their fate. With a sigh, he prepared to leave, thinking it would be better to search for peace elsewhere. But something caught his eye.

A flash of lavender fabric peeked from behind a nearby tree, illuminated faintly by the lanterns. Yeosang's heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening. Lavender... the exact colour you'd worn the first time he met you. It could be a coincidence—anyone could wear such a colour—but the hope blooming in his chest was undeniable.

What if it was you?

He couldn't just walk away. Not now.

With careful, deliberate steps, the fourth prince approached the trembling figure behind the tree. His breath was shallow, his nerves on edge, as the soft weeping grew clearer with every step. The closer he got, the more his heart ached. The sight before him was enough to tear him apart.

It was you.

You were curled up against the rough bark of the tree, your knees drawn to your chest, hands clutching the edges of the lavender hanbok tightly. Your body shook with silent sobs, the sound so fragile that it made Yeosang's chest tighten painfully. He could barely stand seeing you like this—so vulnerable, so broken.

For a moment, he hesitated. He wasn't sure if you'd want to see him right now, especially in this state. But he couldn't just leave you like this. Not after days of wondering if you were alright, not after the constant worry that something had happened to you. Seeing you now, alone in the dark, crying as if the world had crushed you... it was unbearable.

"Princess..." he whispered softly, his voice gentle as if speaking too loudly might shatter you completely.

You flinched at the sound of his familiar deep voice, your head snapping up in surprise. When your tear-streaked eyes met his, a flood of emotions passed between you. Shock, fear, relief... and something else. Something deeper that neither of you dared to voice aloud.

"Yeosang..." you breathed, your voice weak and trembling, barely above a whisper.

Without thinking, he knelt down beside you, his eyes full of concern. "What happened? Why are you out here like this? I've been so worried... Where have you been?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat. Tears streamed down your face again as you struggled to find the strength to answer. You were supposed to be stronger than this, to hold everything together, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the fear, the loneliness—was too much.

His heart broke all over again, seeing you like this. He reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and comforting. "It's okay," he whispered. "You don't have to say anything. Just... let me stay with you, alright?"

For a long moment, you simply stared at him, the warmth of his presence slowly easing the tight grip of despair around your heart. Then, as if you couldn't hold it in any longer, you nodded, and he gently pulled you into his arms. You collapsed against him, your sobs muffled against his chest. He held you tightly, cradling you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel so alone.

As your sobs began to fade and your breathing steadied, a heavy silence settled between the two of you. But even as the tears stopped, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, grounding you in a way you hadn't felt in so long. You kept your eyes closed, pressing closer to him, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek. His scent—earthy and soothing—wrapped around you like a protective barrier from the world outside. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt safe.

You didn't want to move. You didn't want to leave his arms, leave the calm that came with being next to someone who actually cared. The reality of your life—your engagement to the ninth prince, the cruelty of the palace, the loneliness—seemed so far away when you were here, in this quiet moment with Yeosang.

Letting out a shaky breath, your fingers tightened around the fabric of his robe, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. And in a way, he was. You whispered, your voice raw and barely audible, "I-I can't do this anymore... wh-why couldn't it have been you, Yeo?"

For a moment, he stilled. Your words hung in the air between you, and he wondered if he had imagined them, if they were just the desperate hope of his own heart. But when you pressed closer to him, trembling slightly as if you'd just revealed your deepest secret, he knew it was real.

He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on you, his arms wrapping more securely around your body. Gently, he pressed your head into the crook of his neck, holding you as though he could shield you from all the pain, all the heartache you had endured. He didn't say anything at first—he was too overwhelmed by the surge of emotions in his chest. Relief, sorrow, love... it all mingled together in a way that left him breathless.

And then, softly, he whispered into your hair, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I... I wish it could have been me too."

His confession was quiet, but it carried the weight of all the feelings he'd been holding back. For the first time, he allowed himself to admit it—to say aloud what he'd only been able to think. He had fallen in love with you. It wasn't just a passing infatuation or the admiration of a friend. It was love, deep and consuming, the kind that made it impossible to imagine his life without you in it.

"I... I'll make it better," his voice wavered, his grip tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go. "I'll take you away from all of this. I hate seeing you like this... suffering. You deserve so much more."

His words lingered in your mind, and fresh tears welled in your eyes—this time not from fear or sadness, but from a deep longing for a life that seemed impossible. "But how?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "The ninth prince... h-he's—"

At the mention of his brother, the fourth prince tensed, barely holding back the surge of anger that threatened to overwhelm him. He continued stroking your hair gently, his touch grounding you both. "Tell me," he said, his tone firm but soft, "everything he's done to you."

Fear flickered in your eyes, and you shook your head slightly. "B-but—"

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I'll protect you. You have my word, princess."

"Father, I have come to report wrongdoing," the fourth prince's voice rang out clearly across the throne room. His heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve never faltered. He had waited too long for this moment, and he wouldn't waste it. The King, seated on his grand throne, raised a surprised brow. His fourth son had never shown much interest in palace affairs before.

"Yes, my son. What is it?" he asked, his voice weary with expectation.

Yeosang took a deep breath, steeling himself. "It's Ninth Prince Yeochan. He has been mistreating his fiancée."

The elderly man sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as if this were a minor inconvenience. "Prince Yeosang, you know there are far more pressing matters in this kingdom than marital squabbles."

The prince's nostrils flared, his temper threatening to boil over. "Listen to me, Father! For once in your life, listen to me. You haven't heard a word I've said for the past 25 years, and I've had enough of it!"

The sharpness of his words silenced the king. He straightened in his seat, eyes narrowing as he studied his son.

Yeosang pressed on, desperation clinging to every syllable. "The princess... she's living in misery. Do you even know where your 'beloved' ninth son has placed her? She's not in some luxurious chamber—he's hidden her away in a miserable room like she's less than a servant! Did you know he's been denying her basic needs to manipulate her into submission? Have you any idea what he's—"

The King closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Marriages aren't all sunshine and rainbows. Especially not arranged ones. You're young, and I understand you're friends with the princess, but you also know how girls can exaggerate things. She'll be fine. They will work it out in time. You must see that this is all for the greater good of our nation."

His Highness clenched his fists tightly, the urge to shout rising within him. He had expected resistance, but this blatant dismissal enraged him. "Don't invalidate her feelings like that, Your Majesty... you just don't get it, do you?"

The ruler's gaze hardened. "What don't I get, Fourth Prince?"

Yeosang let out a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with frustration and scorn. "That you are part of the problem. How can you expect this kingdom to flourish when you don't even care about what happens within your own palace walls? What kind of king turns a blind eye to the suffering of his own people? To a foreign princess, no less, one who was supposed to be under our protection?" His eyes blazed with fury. "You always talk about the greater good, but it's never been about the people, has it? It's about your power. You think the end justifies the means, no matter who gets crushed along the way. What kind of noble king does that make you? Or should I say... what kind of useless king?"

The air in the throne room grew thick with tension, his words hanging heavy between them like an unsheathed blade.

Despite his initial irritation at the prince's boldness, His Majesty felt a surge of pride. Yeosang's passionate defence of the foreign princess was a clear sign of his growth and potential as a future ruler. His newfound affection and protectiveness toward you were a stark contrast to his past obsession with Lady Park. It was clear that he had finally moved on from the general's wife and was now focused on something—someone he truly loved.

Yet, the King also felt a pang of disappointment. Entrusting you to Prince Yeochan had been a grave mistake, and the realisation that you had suffered under his treatment made the ruler question his past decisions. He clasped his hands together, mulling over his son's words.

"Fair enough. What do you suggest I do then, Fourth Prince?" The elderly man's voice held a rare note of invitation, allowing Yeosang to propose a solution.

His Highness straightened, his resolve clear. "I understand how vital it is to maintain our relations with Ruhon. I'm not suggesting we break the peace treaty over the ninth prince's actions. Instead, I propose we reconsider the current arrangements."

The King almost smiled, entertained by his son's careful diplomacy. "Alright, so what then? Who else would the princess marry?"

The fourth prince's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "I put myself forward as a candidate. I'm confident I can give her the respect and care she deserves."

His Majesty chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Really? And does she agree with this arrangement?"

"Yes, she—" Yeosang froze for a moment, realising he'd revealed more than intended. But after a brief hesitation, he nodded.

The King's expression softened, his earlier irritation dissolving. "You're right, my son. If the princess' happiness is important for the stability of our nations, we must ensure she is well cared for."

Yeosang nodded, gratitude flooding through him as relief settled in. The King sighed, a glimmer of satisfaction lightening his burden.

"As for the ninth prince... I'll make sure he understands the consequences of his actions," the elderly man said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The fourth prince's heart swelled with hope and determination. This was more than he had dared to wish for, and he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—with you by his side.

His Majesty's smile slightly faltered as he watched the visible relief wash over his son. A heaviness settled in his chest. "But my son," he began, his voice quieter, more measured, "you have to prepare yourself for the potential talk that will spread about you... and the princess. This isn't going to be an easy or smooth process."

Yeosang met his father's gaze, his expression unwavering. "I understand, Father."

The ruler sighed, the weight of what was to come settling on him. He knew the whispers in the court would be brutal, the rumours relentless. The nobility had a way of twisting any situation, and there would undoubtedly be those who questioned the sudden change in marriage arrangements. There might be talk of favouritism or worse—of scandal.

But before he could voice more concerns, Yeosang's calm words broke the silence, further tugging at his father's heart. "Don’t worry, Father. It's nothing I'm not already used to. I've endured rumours and whispers all my life..." He paused, his expression hardening with determination. "But I won't let them touch her. I'll protect her, and I won't let anyone disrespect her again."

The King felt a surge of pride and sadness all at once. His son had indeed grown beyond what he'd expected, but the fact that he had carried so much weight for so long without ever seeking his father's help broke his heart. The King realised how much he had missed over the years, how distant he had allowed their relationship to become.

"You're a good man, Yeosang," the King said softly, his voice laced with both admiration and regret. "I wish I'd seen it sooner."

His Highness gave a small nod, his resolve as strong as ever, though the lingering pain in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'll do right by her, Father. That's all that matters now."

The King intertwined his fingers, watching his son with a mixture of pride and sorrow. The future of their kingdom—and the princess' happiness—now rested on this new path. He only hoped it would lead to a brighter future for both his son and the Ruhon princess.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Yeo? The ninth prince, he'll—" Your voice trembled with panic as you glanced nervously toward the door. But Yeosang only shook his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you into his embrace.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His touch was warm and steady, a silent reassurance. "He won't be able to come near you again. I promise."

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and a group of palace staff entered. Their uniforms were pristine, and their faces composed, unfamiliar to you. Bowing deeply, they addressed both of you.

"These servants greet Fourth Prince Yeosang and Princess Sarisu. We have come to move the princess to her new chambers."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked up at Yeosang. "N-new chambers?"

One of the court ladies, an older woman with a warm smile, nodded eagerly. "Yes, Your Highness. Congratulations on your engagement! May the future Fourth Princess of Joseon live a thousand years!"

"F-fourth Princess...?" You stared in shock, barely able to process the words. Engagement? New chambers? The past few weeks of torment and isolation suddenly felt like a distant memory, replaced by this surreal moment of freedom. Yeosang grinned softly down at you, the light in his eyes unmistakable.

He nodded to the servants, giving them permission to start packing your belongings. Then, leaning down, he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I told you I'd take care of it, my soon-to-be wife."

The words sent a shiver through you, but this time it wasn't from fear or anxiety. It was a mix of disbelief and relief. Your heart raced as the palace staff began gathering your things, their movements efficient and respectful—a stark contrast to the way you had been treated before.

The rest of the day felt like a dream, as if the heavy weight that had been suffocating you for so long had finally lifted. You followed your new fiancé out of the quarters you had been forced to call home, stepping into the sunlight for the first time in what felt like forever.

Your gaze drifted, and that's when you saw him—Prince Yeochan. He stood several paces away, his face pale with disbelief as royal guards surrounded him and his servants. Officer Song led the group with his characteristic sternness, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

You overheard snippets of conversation, catching the words "interrogation" and "treatment of the princess." Your heart quickened. In Joseon, interrogations weren't handled lightly, especially when they involved royalty. You knew for a fact that the ninth prince and his servants were in for a rough time.

Yeosang's hand slid into yours, grounding you in the moment. His touch was steady, his presence comforting. He glanced at you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with quiet determination. "You’re safe now," he whispered.

As you walked away from the quarters, leaving the past behind, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for the man beside you—the man who had promised to protect you and had kept that promise.

Thank you, my prince.

The following week felt like a fantasy you had never imagined could come true. Every moment with the fourth prince was filled with joy, love, and a sense of belonging you had never experienced before. He moved you to a chamber near his, ensuring you were never far from him. Every morning, he would come over, smiling warmly as he shared meals with you, and afterwards, he'd whisk you away to different spots in the palace, if you were not bonding with the Queen. There was always something new to show you, some hidden garden or scenic view you had never seen before.

On one of those magical days, Yeosang had even summoned a renowned dressmaker from outside the palace. Dressmaker Kim, known for his exquisite designs, came to you with endless fabrics and ideas, eager to create a new batch of hanboks that reflected your personal taste and style. Your fiancé had insisted that you not be restricted to the simple garments the palace provided. You deserved something beautiful, something uniquely you.

One sunny afternoon, as you stood together in the palace gardens, gazing at the cherry blossoms in full bloom, his arms wrapped around you from behind. His embrace was gentle but firm, the warmth of his body making you feel safe and loved.

"Our wedding's in a week, can you believe it?" he whispered softly against your ear.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the thought. "I know, it feels like a dream."

He pressed his lips softly to your cheek, and you leaned into him, basking in the tenderness of the moment. "Is there anything else you want, my princess?" he asked, his voice low and full of affection.

Turning to face him, you cupped his face in your hands, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Enough, Yeo. You've given me more than enough for the past week."

But he shook his head, his gaze softening as he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours. "Not nearly enough," he murmured. "I do have one final surprise for you before the big day."

You frowned slightly, about to protest, but before you could speak, he silenced you with a kiss. It was tender, loving, and left you completely dazed. When he pulled away, his lips brushed lightly against yours, leaving you breathless.

"Don't reject me just yet," he whispered, his voice teasing but full of affection. "Go have a look and tell me how you like it. The surprise is waiting for you in your room."

Curiosity sparked within you, and though you tried to suppress it, excitement bloomed in your chest. What could he possibly have prepared now? You smiled up at him, already feeling that whatever it was, it would be another unforgettable moment.

And unforgettable it was.

He trailed behind your excited steps, heart swelling with anticipation as he followed you to your chambers. He stopped just outside, giving you enough privacy while still keeping the doors open. His eyes never left you as you entered the room, eager to see your reaction.

The moment you stepped inside, you froze in place. Your breath caught, and your vision blurred with tears before a sob escaped your lips. You couldn't believe what—no, who—was waiting for you.

"M-mother…" you choked, your voice thick with emotion.

Without hesitation, you rushed forward, falling into her arms. The warmth and familiarity of her embrace washed over you, the scent of home bringing back memories of a time when you felt safe. She held you tightly, her hand stroking your hair as you trembled in her embrace.

"I'm here now, my dear," your mother whispered, her own voice shaking with emotion. She sniffled, pressing her nose into your hair, her tears mingling with yours. "All thanks to my good son-in-law."

Her words broke through the haze of your emotions, and you glanced back toward the door. Your soon-to-be husband stood there, watching you from outside with a soft, tearful smile. He didn't step inside, allowing you this moment with your mother, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He had made this reunion possible. He had brought your family back to you.

Your mother's tearful smile reached Yeosang, and he dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. The silent gratitude exchanged between them warmed your heart even more.

A year ago, if anyone had told Yeosang he would find love, happiness, and purpose, he would've laughed bitterly, dismissing it as nothing more than a foolish dream. For so long, he had drifted through life, lost in the cold shadows of the palace, burdened by duty and the emptiness it brought. He had watched others find joy and love, believing it was something forever beyond his reach. But now, standing there, watching you fall into your mother's arms, he felt a wave of clarity wash over him. He's been wandering this earth alone, feeling lost for what seemed like an eternity...

Until I found you, my princess.

Aaaand, it's a wrap! God, I sincerely hope this was decent HAHA this ended up so much longer and darker than initially planned but oh well, it is what it is. I might consider doing one last bonus chapter for TWTHH, but we'll see~ you know what they say, there will only be supply if there's a demand🌚

If you've made it this far, thank you so very much for reading and staying with me throughout this entire journey! I look forward to hearing all your thoughts on the spinoff and this series! Which member's spinoff was your favourite and why? Let me know! <3

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[starsjulia]

superhero girlfriend

leah williamson x pregnant reader

a/n : i’m in rome and im dying from the heat, so i decided to write something about it. also sorry for how short it is…

warnings : none! (for once) just fluff.

Leah and Y/N strolled through the ancient streets of Rome, the summer sun blazing overhead. The city was alive with history, every corner steeped in tales of emperors, poets, and artists. But right now, the only story Leah cared about was the one she was writing with Y/N—their last holiday as a family of two before their little one arrived.

Y/N rubbed her growing belly, feeling the baby kick gently. "I think she likes Rome," she laughed, looking up at Leah with eyes full of love.

Leah grinned, her hand finding its familiar place at the small of Y/N's back. "Or maybe she’s just excited about the gelato we're going to get later."

The couple had spent the day exploring the lesser-known parts of the city, venturing beyond the usual tourist spots. They had wandered down cobbled alleys, discovered quaint little cafés, and marveled at hidden fountains that seemed to spring up like secrets only locals knew.

But now, as the afternoon sun beat down relentlessly, Y/N started to feel the weight of the day. The heat was oppressive, and her feet ached from the hours of walking.

"Leah," Y/N said, her voice tinged with exhaustion, "I think I need to sit down for a bit."

Leah looked around, realizing they had wandered far from the main streets. The area was quiet, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of the city. No taxis in sight, just the silent presence of old buildings standing guard over the narrow streets.

"Of course," Leah said softly, her concern evident. She scanned the area for a bench, but the nearest one was a good distance away. Not wanting Y/N to exert herself further, Leah made a quick decision.

Without a word, Leah bent down and gently scooped Y/N into her arms. Y/N let out a surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around Leah's neck as she was lifted off the ground.

"Leah! You don’t have to—" Y/N started, but Leah silenced her with a soft kiss on the forehead.

"I've got you, love," Leah said, her voice tender. "Just relax. I'll take care of everything."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. It wasn’t just the romantic gesture that made her feel so loved, but the ease with which Leah did it—how natural it felt to be cared for by the woman she adored.

Leah began walking, her strides strong and sure, as she carried Y/N through the winding streets. Despite the heat, she felt a cool calm wash over her, knowing that she was doing everything she could to make Y/N comfortable. They passed by a few locals who smiled at the sight—a tall, athletic woman carrying her pregnant partner with such obvious care and love.

Y/N rested her head against Leah's shoulder, closing her eyes as she savored the moment. "You're my hero, you know that?" she murmured.

Leah chuckled, her breath warm against Y/N's temple. "I'm just doing what any superhero girlfriend would do."

Finally, they reached a main road where taxis were more frequent. Leah carefully set Y/N down on a bench in the shade before hailing a cab. She made sure Y/N was comfortable, fanning her lightly while they waited for the taxi to pull up.

Once they were settled in the backseat, Y/N leaned against Leah, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. "Thank you for today," she whispered. "I know it wasn't easy."

Leah wrapped an arm around Y/N, pulling her close. "It was perfect," she replied. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything. Besides, it's our last adventure before we become three."

Y/N smiled, placing her hand over Leah's, where it rested on her belly. "I can't wait to see what the next chapter holds."

As the taxi drove them through the ancient streets, the city of Rome seemed to blur into the background. All that mattered was the love they shared, the new life they were about to welcome, and the knowledge that, no matter what, Leah would always be there to carry Y/N through anything life threw their way.

[kumkaniudaku]

Midterm

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

Reading a congratulatory email with kind words and instructions to sign a lucrative offer was easy. Simply slip out of your third boring morning meeting, disappear into the surprisingly vacant courtyard, and spend no less than 30 minutes oscillating between excitement and sheer panic while clicking through pages of contracts to add your digital signature to an encrypted document. Kelvin followed the plan to the letter and then some. 

The hard part was stifling the urge to scream at the birds and trees during peak business hours. 

Voice low and eyes shifting in search of potential eavesdroppers, he sat in pensive silence to contemplate the gravity of his decision. In a little over a month, he'd be a Chicago resident. He'd wake up in his Chicago apartment, walk the Chicago streets, pass by Chicagoans on the way to his Chicago office, and then grab dinner ingredients at a Chicago grocery store. His license would change. Mail would need a new forwarding address. Updated voter registration, new doctors, a change in insurance, learning a transit system; change after change both excited and unnerved Kelvin all at once.

Part of him wanted to barge into his Head of Creative's office and slam his resignation on the table before clicking his heels together on the way out the door. Fuck this job. New and greener pastures were on the horizon! The other part, the terrified part of him that'd been worried sick since Saturday morning, couldn't even say the words out loud for fear that the wooden benches would absorb and tell his secret before he'd had time to craft poetic, well-thought-out lines. 

In his mind, Kelvin thought he'd managed to maintain an impenetrable poker face. To a stranger or work acquaintance unschooled in Kelvin-ology, he could come across as convincing enough to overlook. For Asia, watching him from the communal kitchen, worry causing his knee to bounce in triple time told a different story. 

"You know you can just go out there and talk to him, right?" Savannah's sarcastic introduction to an otherwise quiet moment cut through Asia's brain fog enough to garner attention as she shifted her weight from one side to the other. "I'm joking," Savannah laughed, trying to ease the tension between them. Asia's quick glance at the back of Kelvin's head provided the final number of a winning lottery sequence. "Wow, you really like him. Like, you two are a couple! I knew it." 

Asia tried to remain casual as she crossed her arms and shrugged. "What are you talking about? Kel is my work friend." 

"Must be a hell of a work friend for you to spend the night from his place. I noticed the cabinets, but I couldn't confirm until later that day when Kelvin took a meeting from the same place." 

Savannah's cheeky grin sparked fear in Asia's heart. Widening her eyes, she craned her neck to see who may have heard her business in the area.

She leaned closer, keeping her voice low as she spoke. "You can't say that out loud," she cautioned. "We're being discreet!" 

"Love you so much, Asia, but literally everyone knows."

"Everyone like who?" 

"Asia," Savannah reiterated. "Every. One. The main crew has a group chat and everything. You just won me $20 bee-tee-dubbs. I'll share, promise."

Panic should've set in for Asia. Maybe dread and a tinge of fear. They'd broken another rule and crossed another carefully considered boundary in the pursuit of each other. Asia should've been nervous about how their not-so-secret pining had run through the office rumor mill and what it might mean for perceptions of her professionalism as one of the few Black women in the building. But relief was the only emotion worth exploring in the immediate aftermath of Savannah's revelation. 

No more hiding. No more planning entrances five minutes apart or driving separate vehicles in busy morning traffic when one would suffice. They could share dinner leftovers during lunch and stop sneaking quiet giggles at jokes shared via text. No more hiding. 

Relief helped Asia slowly release the extra air tightening her lungs and expanding her chest. She nodded at nothing in particular. "I expect my cut in all ones. It's for our strip club fund." 

"Oooh, spicy," Savannah sang, stepping closer to speak in a hushed whisper. "So… how's it going with you two? How different is personal time Kelvin from work Kelvin?" 

"Uh, I mean, you know. He's…you know." 

Any sense of calm that offered a reprieve from an onslaught of complicated feelings was quickly replaced by the need to run out of the room and vomit. Knowing was one thing. Asking questions and wanting the scoop on something Asia deemed sacred and untouchable in conversation beyond what she chose to share was different. 

Words sputtered from her lips as she tried to offer an explanation vague enough to get Savannah off her ass. The quiet roar of glass panes sliding on a metal track clipped Asia's start-and-stop sentence, turning all attention to Kelvin as he stepped in, looking like he'd just had his heart ripped in two and was trying but failing to keep his emotions intact. Savannah didn't seem to notice when she flagged him over. Asia couldn't take her eyes off his frown and sullen expression. Kelvin knew his face had betrayed him as soon as he was close enough for a thorough look at the questions knitting Asia's brows together. 

Trying to play it cool, he swiftly pulled his hand out of his pocket and offered a wave to both ladies. "What's up?" A greeting he'd used a million times suddenly sounded bizarre. First mistake. 

"Hiii!" Savannah's severe lack of subtly pulled a reluctant laugh from Kelvin before he shifted his gaze to focus on Asia. 

"Asia. You good?" 

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. What about you? You good?" 

"I'm good now, yeah." 

Anxieties feasting on his mind momentarily paused in reverence for Asia's presence. A true breath of fresh air. One he'd fight tooth and nail to keep in his life, distance be damned. 

Savannah stood between the pair and their smitten grins, looking back and forth to see who'd make the first move. "This is just the cutest shit ever. I can't take it." Googly eyes slowly turned into blank stares aimed in her direction. Hint taken. "No, you're so right. I should get out of here. Asia, remember to put the thing on the slide at some point. In the one deck."

"Bye, Savannah!" Kelvin and Asia watched Savannah awkwardly scurry off to do only God knows what until they were safely alone. 

Without a buffer to fill in the gaps, all the nausea-inducing worry from the morning's events came flooding back for Kelvin in another crushing wave. Had he been thinking straight, he would've opted to save such delicate news for the privacy of his living room when all the thoughts sitting jumbled like Soul Train board letters were sorted into the proper place. Unfortunately, life-changing information sure to shake the still-wet foundation on which they'd built their relationship ran off with his rationale long ago. 

Kelvin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when words didn't come out. He tried again. Then, one more time before finally forcing, "I have…something to tell you," into the atmosphere. 

Asia tilted her head in curiosity. "So do I. Is yours good news or bad news?" 

"Doesn't matter," he answered, trying to smile through the rapid thudding in his ears. "You go first." 

Don't press, Asia. Resist! An inner monologue determined to usher Asia away from the sins of her past forced back 101 questions to make way for her surprise. "You know how the Moët client is looking for new artists for that summer series activation?" Kelvin nodded, vaguely remembering project details he'd contributed to in a past life. Asia reached into her back pocket to showcase two laminated passes on lanyards. "I convinced Chris and Sid to give me their passes so we could pull up. Now, we don't have to go all the way to Australia to see RINI. Fun, right?" 

Kelvin recognized the big reveal as something he should be excited about. And, had present circumstances not reared its ugly head, he'd have no trouble sharing Asia's toothy grin and silly dance. He tried to fight the heavy haze clouding his day by raising his hand for a high five and flashing a vacant smile. "That's great, baby. I'm excited. Really." 

So much for honesty.

Asia couldn't hide her skepticism, pushing her eyebrows high, and Kelvin couldn't hide his discomfort, which made him fidget with the contents of his front pockets.  

"Yeah," Asia answered, disappointment in his half-assed reaction instantly stealing the light in her eyes and turning her bright smile into a shell of itself. "Um, what was your news? Anything good?" 

Tact was never Kelvin's strong point. Breakups over text and ghosting were more his speed, no matter how much he hated that fact about himself. What everyone else saw as sleazeball behavior reserved for fuckboys deserving of eternal banishment to hell, he saw as protecting feelings. 

Promises were promises, and Asia was worth more than slipping back into bad habits. Kelvin had to rip the band-aid and deal with the residual blood later. "Remember the Chicago job?" he asked, wringing his hands.

Oh no. Intuition and a random tarot reader told Asia to be on the lookout for roadblocks, but, dammit, she thought that meant traffic on the interstate or an annoying client ask, not the nagging tug of the Midwest. 

"Yeah," she answered cautiously. 

Kelvin adjusted the hydrant-red beanie on his head and sighed. Rip. The. Band-Aid. "They…called me back with all my negotiation demands met. And…”

"You took the job." 

Patience was never Asia's virtue. Why beat around the bush when they could lay all the bad shit on the table and try to salvage a few pieces good enough to keep for fond memories later? 

"Yeah." The finished sentence turned an abstract concept into reality, weighing so heavily on him that he found looking Asia in the eye and lifting his head too difficult. He repeated after her in a low, measured voice, "I took the job." 

Suddenly, Asia couldn't help but hyper-fixate on her surroundings. The low hum of two French door refrigerators holding employee lunches was annoying. It always had been, but today, it sounded like an army of flies buzzing around the mess Kelvin's news had created. Distant laughter made her nostrils flare. How dare someone find joy in a time like this? The kitchen was too big and too open to contain the grief rising within her. Then, the stupid ping of notifications on Kelvin's phone threatened to blow her gasket. The stimuli converged simultaneously, bringing fresh tears to prickle at her waterline. 

Asia forced them all back while Kelvin waited for her to say something to prove she didn't hate him. She extended a closed fist in his direction to match a closed-mouth smile. "Congratulations, Kel. I'm so proud of you. If we were somewhere else, I'd hug you." 

"Hug me to sneak in for a choke or a real hug?" 

"A real one," Asia chuckled, the sound of it returning to her stilted and lacking the mirth she intended. "I know you're bored here. You gotta do what you gotta do, right?" 

Past all the hurt feelings and rage bubbling in her chest, Asia couldn't allow herself to stomp out Kelvin's fire with negativity. She'd save that for a tearful phone call with Sabrina or a good cry in the shower. Kelvin needed reassurance that he'd made the right decision, not the moaning and wailing she had planned for a moment alone. 

"Yeah…" Kelvin paused to scan Asia's face for any sign of an impending adverse reaction but found none before he answered. Nothing. Not a shred of any identifiable emotion presented itself to Kelvin. Anxiety gripped him again. "Asia, don't shut me out. I know you have questions and fuckin' feelings. C'mon. Don't leave me out here by myself." 

"Not here." An almost undetectable waver in her voice was enough to shatter Kelvin's heart into a million pieces. He watched her blink back tears to speak again. "Can we just be happy, please? For a little longer?" 

He sighed, accepting defeat. "Okay." A mental reminder to add 'needs a moment before tough conversations' to his running list of things to know about Asia ran through his brain like neon letters on a marquee. 

His index and middle fingers brushed across his puckered lips, collecting affection he quickly passed on to Asia. She kissed the spot his lips once occupied as a silent promise to revisit the subject when heightened emotions had time to return to baseline. 

"You hungry? My treat." 

An olive branch. Collective ease passed between them once Kelvin flashed a toothy grin at Asia and gestured ahead of him toward the courtyard doors. "After you."

What Kelvin couldn't have in her raw, unfiltered thoughts, he was more than happy to gain in a spare moment of mindless chatter over sushi a block away. 

Something was better than nothing. 

If left up to Asia, Chicago and all its complications would disappear because of her commitment to ignoring them.

City sounds and radio chatter on Saturday evening had spent more time filling silent gaps of conversation than Kelvin and Asia had for two straight days. The elephant in the room quickly became the elephant at the dinner table late Thursday night when Asia side-stepped the topic to discuss Married at First Sight instead, the elephant in the bedroom when the thought of Chicago kept her mind wandering too much to enjoy Kelvin feasting between her legs, and the elephant in the backseat while she pretended not to notice her boyfriend stealing glances at the red light.

Given the chance, Asia could avoid broaching the topic for weeks. Kelvin, on the other hand, couldn't ignore issues festering into resentment day by day. Before long, he'd carefully label boxes and precious belongings to ship to their new home. Being on the brink of drastic change without a resolution wasn't an option.

Standstill traffic and a small car accident separating them from their destination provided the perfect opportunity to catch Asia in close quarters and force the issue. Kelvin took a deep breath and slowly turned the volume down on one of Tyler the Creators' piano-heavy tracks, earning a confused side-eye for his behavior. 

"Everything okay," Asia asked, shifting her body towards Kelvin so he could feel the full weight of her annoyance. 

He shrugged. "You tell me, Asia. I'm not the one tiptoeing around some really important shit right now. Is everything okay?" 

"Kelvin, not right now. We can talk about it when we get back tonight." 

Arms crossed at her chest, and a deep frown sent Asia retreating into herself, frustrating Kelvin to the point of no return. When he imagined the first roadblock in their relationship, hogging the covers or choosing the thermostat's temperature came to mind. He expected little hurdles to make room for the big stuff. The relationship-altering, make-or-break whammies either strengthened a couple or sent them careening toward total implosion. This behemoth was a tsunami of complications he didn't expect but wouldn't allow to throw him off course. 

"You said that last night and the night before. I'm tired of 'tonights!' It's happening, Asia! We can't get around the shit. So, talk to me right now!" Kelvin's body vibrated in time with his hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel until he practiced in and out deep, soothing breaths brought him back off the ledge. Asia watched his shoulders slowly slump away from his ears before he reached over to rest a warm palm on her inner thigh to stroke his thumb against smooth denim, his eyes apologetic as he looked over at her. "I didn't ask you to be with me for no reason. Can we talk about what all this means for us?" 

Asia rested her hand atop his to twist the ring on his finger while she tried to gather words and explanations she'd practiced for days on end. "I don't know." 

In all her soul-searching and reckoning with the inevitable, she realized that she had no idea what the next steps were. 

She always had the answers, the plan, and the foresight to know how to proceed in any situation. This one, though – this flurry of warm feelings filled with complicated explanations and head-spinning romance – she couldn't figure out. Not even when she turned to practical skills and timeline plotting to make it all make sense. 

I don't know. Kelvin wasn't sure what he expected when he decided to corner Asia for an answer, but that wasn't it. Not knowing was worse than not caring. He could deal with the finality of no longer giving a fuck. However, the uncertainty in what he thought was a reasonably black-or-white scenario was unnerving. Kelvin let the gut punch settle until Asia spoke again to soothe the pain she'd inflicted.

"How…how would it work," She questioned in a small voice, her eyes low to avoid cracking the nerve she'd built. "Tell me you have a plan. Because, if you don't, I –" 

Kelvin rushed to reassure her. "I have a plan. Trust me." For once in his life, Kelvin was moving intentionally. No stone left unturned; no possibility left up to chance. "I leave in six weeks. Give me two to get my shit together, and you're on the first flight into O'Hare." 

"And after that?" 

"We'll talk every morning and every night. Then I'm on my way to you every other week, baby. And every other month, I'll make sure you get to me. Nonstop flight. The price doesn't matter. All you need is a packed suitcase. Or not. You can be naked the whole time. That's fine by me." 

Two nonstop flights a month, airport pickups and drop-offs every other week, Fridays in, Monday mornings out, constant connection over the phone when the physical was out of the question—simple enough. There was no fluff, only a concerted effort to make a less-than-ideal situation work. The happiness didn't have to die if they didn't let it. 

Still, Asia wrestled with separating idyllic assumptions from reality. What happened when schedules presented challenges? Or when the weather interrupted? Did distance make the heart grow fonder or help intertwined lives push away the realities of life together hundreds of miles apart. 

Kelvin could see the wheel turning for Asia while she mulled over his proposal from every angle. "Give me a little more time, okay?" Deflating. The air in Kelvin's sails came through his nose in a disappointed huff just as traffic began to pick up enough for steady motion. She held his hand in place, hoping he could feel the intention behind her hesitancy. "I'm not closing the door on us. I need to make sure we're prepared. That's all." 

The absence of an enthusiastic yes wasn't a no – another tidbit to add to Kelvin's growing Asia file. He'd have to find comfort in the details to keep her in his life. And damn, did he want to keep her in his life. His plan had more legs, including a permanent address change for Asia. 

"That's okay. Take your time," he answered as he laced their fingers together and brought the back of her hand to his lips. "Just don't leave me hanging like that again." 

"I won't. I'm sorry."

Relationships came with a learning curve Asia had to experience to understand. No one in her life had prepared her for conflict resolution. Being an only child taught her how to play by herself and keep her secrets close to her chest. There was nothing in the manual about coexisting with another human she cared for more and more each day. She didn't know how to share items or feelings. But Kelvin made her want to try. That had to count for something. 

Once tense quiet returned to the comfortable, wordless quality time Kelvin and Asia had come to enjoy, it followed them for miles to the venue until the need to mix and mingle took center stage. 

In a room full of strangers intermixed with a few familiar faces, they moved around like a couple for the first time. Introductions as a tandem flowed naturally. Seeing them move from group to group hand in hand amused but didn't surprise team members who'd long had their suspicions confirmed by Savannah. 'Alvin' as one member of the group named them. Not their preferred choice, but good enough for the moment. 

As alcohol flowed and inhibitions were disarmed, smooth crooning and soul-stirring baselines from the artist of the hour pushed tomorrow's problems further down the road. 

Kelvin kept a hand on Asia's hip while she allowed her body to sway along with RINI's soulful cover of Leon Bridges' "That's What I Love." Hearing his voice beyond the warbling of his JBL speaker from Asia blasting music far too loudly reminded Kelvin of the first time she shared her new favorite artist with him. She made him listen to Ultraviolet twice all the way through, forcing him to commit more lyrics to memory than he ever did for any other artist. Truthfully, the music didn't hit the same when she wasn't in the room. He tried listening on his own, but it was missing something or someone to add the depth he needed to make the album spin worth his time. 

Applause filled the room just after the final strum of RINI's guitar reverberated. Asia beamed from a spot toward the back. Asia claimed she was fine where she was, but Kelvin knew she was too scared to get close and act like a crazed fan. His lips found her temple for a quick kiss as RINI prepared to end his showcase. 

"I gotta find a way to get out to the States more. This is great," he laughed, causing the audience to join him. "My time is ending, but I can't go without singing the song that put me on your radar. Big thanks to Moët for letting me spend some time with you tonight. I'm excited to get to work this summer. Until then, this is Meet Me in Amsterdam. I hope you enjoy."

Asia couldn't contain her squeal, earning a low laugh from Kelvin once the open notes of her favorite song began. 

I would sail across the world

Row this boat from dusk till dawn

Kelvin and Asia had heard the song plenty of times together, so much so that Kelvin was tired of its slow drone and accompanying music video. Both RINI and Meet Me in Amsterdam were on his list of things he could live without and still die a happy man. 

Until the lyrics started to circle too close to home. A plea for the songwriter's love to make the leap and meet him in a foreign land felt like a page ripped directly from Kelvin's journal. Had he possessed the talent, he would've sung into Asia's ear while she leaned against him, caught in the rapture of beautiful lyrics. 

She didn't need Kelvin's additional vocal performance to know her partner had fallen victim to the magic. She was right there with him, letting the music speak where neither her heart nor mind could reach. 

Won't you come closer; let it take over

I don't need anything; I just want you

"I just want you." The words came out before Asia could stop them. She was never one to fall into the melodrama of romance, but maybe she'd never had an adequate opportunity. Maybe all she needed was a few glasses of white wine and a man looking back at her like universes formed in her eyes to give in to what she'd always considered unrealistic and a little corny. 

Kelvin wrapped an arm around her waist before dipping his head to meet her parted lips as she craned her neck to get a better look at his face. "You got me." 

Turning in his arms, she faced him head-on. "I want to try. For you. Let's make it work." 

"Every other week. I swear."

"I know. I believe you." 

Rolling waves filled with blinding passion set their bodies aflame, connecting them for a kiss too searing to start and end in a room full of people. Some things were best experienced behind doors clumsily kicked closed after Kelvin and Asia burst through the door of his apartment connected at the mouth. 

Small items clattered on the ground as they bumped into the wall, sending anything not bolted to Kelvin's entryway table scattering in the darkness. The moonlight streaming through his balcony door was the only light to illuminate their path. They couldn't care less. Kissing and fondling were their only priorities on the way to shedding extraneous clothing. 

The bedroom was too far, and the couch didn't provide enough leverage for what Kelvin wanted to do for Asia. The counter was too high off the ground, unfortunately. The table, though, was perfect. 

Kelvin thanked God for weightlifting as he hoisted Asia up into his arms, tongues still dancing as he walked them across the room. Asia used her forearm to swipe decorative mats and rattan charger plates to the floor so her backside could fill the empty space. 

Soft panting and the light smack of lips coming together and separating rhythmically filled charged cold air. Asia flinched when Kelvin slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt to reach her bra's front clasp. 

"Take this off. Hurry up," Kelvin demanded as he stepped back to pull his crewneck over his head.  He didn't have time for frilly language and sweet kisses. Maybe later, when they'd calmed down from their high. This first fuck was for all the sessions they'd missed between quiet nights in and words left unsaid. A little something to take the edge off. 

Zippers sliding down, garments rustling, and leather sliding out of thin loops made Kelvin's apartment sound like a department store dressing room until they were reconnected in mind and body.

Half-dressed with goosebumps pebbling an expanse of rich brown skin, lovers let their hands roam freely while they grinded against each other. 

Asia moaned at the feel of teeth gently tugging her bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. "C'mon, Kel. Right now," she rushed on in one breath. "I need it." 

"What about the condom? It'll only take a second." Kelvin asked, half-hoping but not expecting Asia to abandon her primary stipulation. 

"Fuck a condom. C'mon." 

The go-ahead to proceed with caution thrown to the wind put them on a path to the sort of carnal and fleshly satisfaction Kelvin's father warned him about before he left home at 18. 

Sorry, dad. This shit feels way too good to miss out on, Kelvin thought to himself as he slid into Asia's warmth inch by inch. He was weightless for a moment, floating in otherworldly bliss while he fit himself inside her body. "Fuck," he whispered. 

"Oh…yes. Yesyesyes." Asia's toes curled, gripping at nothing in a desperate attempt to remain tethered to the atmosphere. "Wait a second. Don't move." Crossing her ankles at the small of his back, Asia pulled Kelvin in a little deeper, smiling at the small groan he muffled against her skin. She just needed to feel him. In six weeks, they'd have to plan moments of intimacy and simulate sex through a screen, waiting for the day they could be together in the flesh. Tonight, with his body filling every dip and ridge like the final piece to a puzzle, they could kick the can down the road for a few more days. "Okay. I'm ready." 

Agonizingly slow thrusts helped them get acquainted with one another in a new way. Kelvin lifted his head from the crook of Asia's neck, yearning to look her in the eyes for an added layer of closeness. He pecked her nose, lips, chin, cheeks, and lips again, trying to keep those three words at bay. 

"Faster, baby." A firm request teetering on begging broke through Kelvin's haze while Asia tried to pull him into her body by his shoulders. 

He smirked. "Oh, you can talk now?" His taunting made Asia squirm against him for extra friction before he stopped and held her in place. "You up for another lesson?" 

"Mhmm," she forced out, hoping her compliance would get her closer to the real fun. 

"You been quiet all week. Imma need to hear you tonight if you wanna cum."

A horny, exasperated sigh preceded a short whimper. "What? I don't know how t –"

"Yeah, you do," Kelvin encouraged. Tell me what you want, and then I'll give you what you need." 

Near painful throbbing has Asia ready to agree to anything if it meant she could finally come off some of the pressure from a stressful week. Quick agreeance earned her a return to Kelvin's slow back and forth, a shiver hitting both their spines as he took a shallow dive inside.

Asia took a deep breath and tested her voice. "You - you feel so good?" She closed her eyes, hoping Kelvin would take pity on her feeble attempt only to be rewarded with nothing. She tried again. "Right there, baby." 

"We'll be here all night. Relax. Be confident." 

Relax. Be confident. The gentle reminder and suckling at her neck helped Asia partially release the valve on her nervousness. Kelvin rocked into her expert precision and care, waiting to hear more. 

A choppy moan caught in her throat before she could speak again. "You fuck me so good. You really thought I was gonna let you get that far away from me?" 

Kelvin groaned and sped up enough for Asia to notice. She smiled, palming the back of his head to keep him close. 

"There it is," he whispered. "Keep goin', beautiful. Tell me some more." 

Bingo. Electricity sparking between them opened up a whole new world of vocal possibility. "I want all you got tonight, baby. Can you do that for me? Fuck me until I can't take anymore?" 

"Uh-huh. I got you." 

Asia rubbed circles at the nape of his neck, feeling a jolt in her body from another change in pace. "Mmm. Deeper, baby. You can do better than that, right? For me?" Her provocation ignited a burning desire for Kelvin to perform. He needed the glory. Asia dropped her talking display long enough to moan through her man putting his entire being into testing the limits of his little circular wooden table. 

If sweet talk couldn't get him to knock the rings out of her, goading him with a challenge undoubtedly did the trick. Scratching against his back, demanding more depth, more speed, and more kissing spurred Kelvin into fast, furious fucking. 

In no time, they were close. Deliciously, dangerously close. No protection meant no staying for the final hoorah. He had to time his exit perfectly for the right mix of precision and mutual satisfaction. Though Kelvin seemed to care, Asia was just hitting her stride. 

"I think about you all day, waiting for you to fuck me just like this. I want you so bad sometimes." Asia confessed while Kelvin fucked her on his toes. "Even at work, when we’re not supposed to. That’s when I need you the most.” Grabbing the sides of his face with both hands, Asia forced him to look her in the eye. "Be good for me, baby. Make me cum."

Instructions? A command? A simple slip of the tongue? Kelvin couldn't bring himself to waste brain power distinguishing. He needed to focus. Focus on Asia's nipples rubbing against his chest and how her breaths and his started to become one. Then, the light sheen of sweat helping their bodies slide against one another. He focused on the sticky coating of arousal inviting him to rub his thumbpad against her clit.

Asia squealed, then licked Kelvin's open mouth. He rasped out a command of his own. "Come on! Come on!" Resolve began to wane. Any longer, and they'd be in the nearest drug store taking the walk of shame toward the Plan B pills.

If the walls ever decided to talk, they'd blush when recounting the vision of Asia forcing Kelvin's mouth against one of her breasts, trying to balance the sting from his hand colliding with her thigh with his warm tongue tracing braille on her areola. 

Her body seized, making it almost impossible for him to pull out. Every other week on a stuffy flying bus sounded like hell, but if he had this to look forward to after the wheels touched the tarmac, he could drum up some enthusiasm in no time. 

At the last moment, Kelvin forced himself out of his favorite place on earth just in time for the fruits of a mind-bending orgasm to spill from his head onto Asia's inner thigh. Together, they watched fresh semen coat supple skin, their chests heaving and ears ringing. Kelvin couldn't speak. He could only watch as Asia gathered a small amount on her fingertip and swiped it against her tongue. 

Kelvin moaned when Asia moaned to relish the sensory experience of his taste. "Did I pass?" Her question fell on deaf ears, with Kelvin more focused on gathering more semen on his fingers to pop into her mouth. She treated him to a show, sucking the digits clean. She spoke again. "Answer me, baby. Did I pass?" 

"With flying colors," Kelvin finally answered. Asia smiled into a searing kiss, reveling in her accomplishment. A new skill had been unlocked, and one more accolade had been added to her mental trophy case. 

Another lesson to take her mind off of the inevitable. At least until the morning rolled around to wash the fresh coat of paint she'd forced over a very real, immovable problem. 

RINI blasting from phone speakers dampened behind the bathroom door reminded Asia of the night before and how she'd allowed the heat of the moment to lock her into a contract she'd neglected to read the fine print on. 

Facing the bedroom window, Asia snuggled deeper into warm sheets and scanned the pros and cons list on her phone. Pro #1: She could eat deep-dish pizza every other month. Con #1: Her man wouldn't be nearby multiple days a week. Which was more important. She couldn't decide. Food or the comforts of stable, local partnership? 

She had started typing a new con when Kelvin emerged from the bathroom naked and moisturized from head to toe. "You awake now?" 

Fuck. Asia thought she had more time to plaster on her happy face. She used a pretend yawn as her buffer. "Yeah," she answered, faking the funk. "Good morning, baby." 

"Morning." Unbrushed teeth could never stop Kelvin from getting his first kiss of the day. He nuzzled his nose against hers before speaking. "Sleep okay?" 

"Mhm. You?" 

He nodded and slipped into bed beside her. "For the most part. I gotta show you something, though." Kelvin reached back to retrieve his phone from the nightstand's charging station. A few taps against the screen presented a short list of apartment options for Asia's inspection. "I started looking at some spots in the middle of the night. This one has a crazy second room for an office. Look at that view." 

A wall of windows overlooking the downtown cityscape made Asia's stomach churn. Reality smacked her in the face. He was leaving and waiting on her approval on an apartment she couldn't stand in a city she wished didn't exist. 

"That's so nice, baby. You can get a nice couch in there as a gaming room, too." 

Kelvin considered her suggestion and nodded. "Damn, that's a good idea. I need to take you with me when I look next week. You down?" 

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, I'll come." Asia shook off her rapidly increasing heartbeat and scooched closer to rest her head on Kelvin's shoulder. "Can you show me another one?"

Enthusiasm fading into meaningless sounds turned Kelvin into Charlie Brown's teacher as he gushed over layouts and natural light. She nodded along to nothing in particular. Smile. Rub his arm. Act supportive. Be the perfect girl. Just be happy for a little longer. 

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TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @thevelvetwhispers @wowitsafemale @kindofaintrovert @sexysativa605 @jvzmine19 @turn-thy-paige @lapateeserie @simplyzeeka @supremechae @palmstreesallday @blackmoonchilee @ovohanna24 @prettypynklemonade @gwenda-fav @itsash-okay @sparklytemi @blackchickinthedesert @miyuhpapayuh

[authorhjk1]

May I suggest SNSD's Seohyun? Because she's definitely MILF (Maknae I'd love to f***) material. Especially because her outfit couldn't handle the fullness of her body, it had to give up on her somehow…

https://kpopping.com/documents/ec/1/2000/221231-Seohyun-KBS-Drama-Awards-documents-3.jpeg?v=1fb1e

https://kpopping.com/documents/b1/0/1000/221231-Seohyun-documents-1.jpeg?v=9834a

Or this could do as another option:

https://kpopping.com/documents/02/4/1460/DvryzVOUUAElz74.jpeg?v=851e7

https://kpopping.com/documents/d3/4/1152/DvryzVOUYAAImie.jpeg?v=2951b

Heck you can make it even two related stories, which sounds even better! Cheers!

Sparkling White

(Seohyun X Male Reader)

"Who do we have here?"

Yoona walks up to you and gives you a hug.

"Hello, noona. Long time no see."

You should've known she would be here too. It's an award show for actors and actresses after all.

"Yes, a shame you're busy these days. The new set of videos you're shooting is really intriguing. Too bad I don't qualify."

She uses one hand to straighten your tie, while the other reaches down, grazing against your crotch.

"But I wouldn't mind a quick fuck later at my place."

"We'll see about that. Depends on how much she is gonna wear me out."

Yoona glances at the name on the door next to you.

"Oh, she's gonna wear you out alright."

Tugging at your tie, she makes you lean down. Yoona gives you a quick kiss, before moving her mouth to your ear.

"But I haven't had your cock in months."

You smile as you stand straight again.

"Well, your Onlyfans account is doing really well, even without me fucking you."

"This isn't about work. Just wanna have your dick."

Yoona's pout doesn't fit the filth that's coming out of her mouth.

"I'll text you when I'm done here."

Yoona's face suddenly lights up.

"Great!"

She walks past you on her way to get back to the main event.

You take out your camera and start the recording. After making sure that you showed who's dressing room this is, you knock on the door.

"Come in please!"

Her sweet voice makes you smile as you open the door. The two of you haven't had the pleasure of working together yet. But you've met her a couple of times before.

Seohyun' eyes light up when she recognizes you.

"Oh, hi!"

"Hello, Seohyun."

You point the camera at her as you talk.

"Like everyone else who makes an appearance, I wanted to surprise you. As you might know, I'm currently shooting a set of videos called MILF. Which means 'Maknae I'd love to fuck'."

Seohyun nods excitedly and smiles into the camera.

"After our last guest, Dreamcatcher's Gahyun, my subscribers voted for you. Seohyun, would you like to sit down and introduce yourself?"

"Of course."

She takes a seat in the chair she probably sat on before you knocked.

"Hi, everyone! I'm SNSD's maknae Seohyun! We are currently at the KBS Drama Awards. I was just about to join my bandmate Yoona at the main event, but I just got pleasantly surprised."

She ends her self introduction by wiggling her eyebrows at you.

"Perfect. A lot of people know you as a member of SNSD and an actress and of course you do have a couple of videos on your group's OF. But is there a reason to why you don't have your own account?"

Seohyun seems to think about your question for a second, before answering.

"I think I'm just not really an active person, you know? I do like to enjoy myself from time to time, but I never bothered with doing independent stuff."

"Interesting. That probably means that most viewers won't know much about your preferences or kinks when it comes to sex. Would you like to share some of those?"

Seohyun smiles at you, before responding. This short interview has always been part of your, so far 20 video long, series and the maknaes all seem to enjoy it.

"The first thing that comes to mind are blowjobs. I really like giving them. Especially when I get all sloppy and messy. I'm not a big fan of the really rough stuff, but the bigger the better."

She winks at you after her last comment, before she continues. Despite basically every legal idol doing OF, they usually don't watch each other's content. So you're happy to hear that Seohyun doesn't just know about your little series, but probably watched a couple of your videos already.

"I don't really have a favorite position, I think. I just like it when the man takes control. Throw me on the bed, bend me over, pick me up..."

Seohyun nods.

"That's what makes me wet."

"Now, I'd usually ask you another question or two, but I have to admit, you look amazing today. So why don't we trade places and get started?"

"Sounds great."

Seohyun gives you that sweet smile as she stands up. After sitting down, you realize Seohyun is already kneeling in front of you. You make sure the camera captures her your crotch as she unbuckles your belt and opens your pants. Once she takes your cock out, Seohyun gives the tip a kiss, before opening her mouth. You lean back a little as her lips wrap around your cock. The camera doesn't just film her sucking you off, but also shows off Seohyun's amazing cleavage.

The young woman quickly gets into it, visibly enjoying having her mouth full. Her tongue is pressed flat against the underside of your shaft and one hand is stroking your base where he lips can't reach.

"I have to admit-"

You groan as Seohyun takes your tip down her throat.

"I have to admit, you give amazing head."

"I'm just enjoying myself here."

She gives you a cheeky smile, before resuming her blowjob. You notice how she becomes a but sloppier as time goes on. Soon, your cock is drenched in saliva. Spit occasionally escapes the corners of her mouth. You zoom in on her full cleavage, the top of her tits now partially glazed with her own spit.

When she takes you further down her throat, you have to rest your arm on the makeup table next you. She really seems to know what she's doing. Her head expertly bobs up and down, her hand keeps stroking your base. As she looks up at you and the camera, you see the amused sparkle in her eyes. She knows how good she's making you feel and she's proud of it.

"Damn, Seohyun. If you keep this up, this will be a short video."

"Oh, no. We can't have that."

You almost let out a sigh of relief when she lifts her head off your cock.

"After all, this is about you fucking me and not about me making you nut down my throat."

Her words make you help her up, not wanting to wait any longer. Remembering what she said earlier, you bend her over the table, making her face the mirror behind it.

"You're gonna make me watch myself getting plowed from behind?"

Her naughty smile speaks volumes.

"Yeah, can't wait for that pussy of yours."

You reach under her dress and hike it up, until it's bunched up around her waist. Revealing her ass in the process, you give one of her cheeks a teasing kiss. As you align your wet cock with her pussy, you make sure the camera captures how you push into her.

Seohyun braces herself against the table as you start to fuck her. It quickly becomes obvious how much she's really enjoying watching herself. She bites her lip, moans louder and louder and even gives the mirror a lick while winking at the camera.

Your free hand is holding her waist as you thrust into her without a break. Her pussy is tightly wrapped around your length, her saliva from earlier enabling you to use her smooth walls at a steady pace.

"Yes, give it to me."

Seohyun sighs, her mouth hanging open as she takes your pounding.

"Give it to me hard."

You keep thrusting into her, pushing her against the table again and again. Looking at the mirror, you notice how her tits threaten to spill out of her dress. You watch her cleavage move in the rhythm of your thrusts. Your hands move from her waist to her tits, squeezing them through the dress.

"That feels good."

Seohyun closes her eyes as you keep groping her chest. She gets more into it, the longer you fuck her. You know the video is a little shaky, but no one will mind. It's Seohyun's pussy you're fucking. Everyone will understand.

"Damn, your big cock is gonna make me cum."

Her moan comes as a surprise to you. Sometimes, some of the girl fake an orgasm here and there, or take longer in general. But you can feel how Seohyun's pussy is already squeezing your cock, wanting to milk you dry. Her impending orgasm is definitely a real one.

"I'm gonna make you cum on it like a little slut."

You whisper into her ear, hoping the microphone on the camera got that.

"Oh fuck!"

Seohyun cums shortly after these words leave your lips. You focus the camera on her mouth, capturing how her lips quiver, how she moans your name, how her lust filled eyes stare back. And only you can feel how her pussy contracts around you. Her walls hug you tighter than ever before. Her saliva mixes with her juices, making her cunt a slippery slope.

"Fuck, I'm close too."

You don't know if Seohyun likes cream pies and you don't wanna ruin her dress.

"What do you say about me making you nut down my throat?"

Her teasing smile makes you chuckle.

"On your knees then."

Your cock leaves the warmth of her pussy, just so her lips can wrap themselves around it only a couple of seconds later. You know it's gonna be a short couple of seconds, but Seohyun is making them count. She sucks the juices off your length and takes half of your cock down her throat.

"Fuck. You're throat is something."

You're able to groan out a moment before you finally climax. You shoot your load down Seohyun's throat, just like she wanted. When you're completely done, you let her clean you up, before you pull out of her mouth.

After the formalities and ending the video, you and Seohyun give each other a hug.

"Thanks for coming by, it was an honor."

You reciprocate her warm smile.

"I had a lot of fun."

"I could tell."

You offer her your phone and she puts her number in.

"Does your company want the uncut version?"

"Probably, yes."

"I'll send it to you."

Seohyun gets on her tip toes and kisses you.

"Don't hesitate to call, if you're up for round two."

------

Hi, everyone!

Hope you enjoyed the story. It got a little longer than usual, but I really started to get onto the concept. There'll definitely be more parts of this theme in the future. And you can probably tell, who will be appearing in the next colour chapter.

Stay healthy!

[maliro-t]

The highlight of Veilguard for me is the relationship between Solas and Rook- and I don't know how to write about this on the internet without being acutely aware of other peoples' criticisms (such as there not being enough of it)- so I'll just say up top that I'm not actually intending this as a refutation of any of those. I just want to talk about my experience with the game and why I like it so much, which will probably make obvious where I disagree with some reoccurring critiques I've seen. *

The thing about Solas in this game is that he plays the role of the trickster perfectly. As much as Fen'Harel is a myth or a persona, and the stories we know of him invented or twisted, his role in Veilguard feels like it could slot in so, so easily with the myths, and in many ways directly parallels them. He is sinister and noble, monstrous and sympathetic, ruthless and compassionate, all at once. He spends the game trapped and humbled but can be almost gleefully condescending at times. He conflates outsmarting an enemy with being right, even as he plays the long-suffering martyr, tortured by countless mistakes. He falls easily into the role of advisor but is quick to note your foolishness. To sneer and declare the problem yours and yet still impose upon you an appraisal of your conduct.

But more than any of that, for most of the game, he's...passive. Dormant. He seems to make no moves, other than as a glorified consultant, despite starting as the main threat.

In Blood of Arlathan, when he finally rears his head again as major a player on the board, it's with a gallant offer of help. As an ally. He is exactly what you need, right when you need it, and you don't even have to ask him to be. And- because you don't have constant access to him, you maybe haven't even considered him an option!

He feels extremely intentionally sparing to me before this in service of a) making you think you're the one with power over him and b) causing you to forget he might contribute at all, so that when he finally does, it seems wholly benevolent. It comes in a moment where your goals are exactly aligned, and indisputably noble.

It's a waiting game. A classic of his, harkening back to stories we've heard time and again about Fen'harel and traps.

As Felassan tells it in the Masked Empire:

Fen'Harel was captured by the hunting goddess, Andruil. He had angered her by hunting the halla without her blessing, and she tied him to a tree and declared that he would have to serve in her bed for a year and a day to pay her back. But as she made camp that night, the dark god Anaris found them, and Anaris swore that he would kill Fen'Harel for crimes against the Forgotten Ones. Andruil and Anaris decided that they would duel for the right to claim Fen'Harel. He called out to Anaris during the fight and told him of a flaw in Andruil's armor just above the hip, and Anaris stabbed Andruil in the side, and she fell. Then Fen'Harel told Anaris that he owed the Dread Wolf for the victory and ought to get his freedom. Anaris was so affronted by Fen'Harel's audacity that he turned and shouted insults at the prisoner, and so he did not see Andruil, injured but alive, rise behind him and attack with her great bow. Anaris fell with a golden arrow in his back, badly injured, and while both gods slumbered to heal their wounds, Fen'Harel chewed through his ropes and escaped.

He goads his enemies into fighting each other for his benefit. Anaris, who had hunted him, succeeds with Fen'Harel's advice, exploiting a weakness he could only see with his aid. In turn, Anaris himself is left exposed. The victory goes to Fen'Harel, who has now dispatched two enemies at once and cleverly won his freedom.

He who was both Creator and Forgotten One. Who could walk amongst both as kin, and who in the end turned his back on them all.

Another tale:

The god Fen'Harel was asked by a village to kill a great beast. He came to the beast at dawn, and saw its strength, and knew it would slay him if he fought it. So instead, he shot an arrow up into the sky. The villagers asked Fen'Harel how he would save them, and he said to them, 'When did I say that I would save you?' And he left, and the great beast came into the village that night and killed the warriors, and the women, and the elders. It came to the children and opened its great maw, but then the arrow that Fen'Harel had loosed fell from the sky into the great beast's mouth, and killed it. The children of the village wept for their parents and elders, but still they made an offering to Fen'Harel of thanks, for he had done what the villagers had asked. He had killed the beast, with his cunning, and a slow arrow that the beast never noticed.

Felassan is everywhere in the Crossroads, in memories, in regrets, in notes that speak to a time you can barely fathom and traces of a friendship that is never once brought up by Solas directly (to my knowledge at least). I think Felassan serves a lot of purposes; he's a window into history, into Solas' mind and ideals, someone who challenges moments of ruthlessness but is loyal, an advisor who keeps Solas grounded even as he pushes him to become something larger than he is, a lingering notion of a loss that you can never really see the full scale of, and so on. And I think, too, that he's written carefully to be a meaningful presence from the rebellion without explicitly spoiling what eventually happens to him, which I wouldn't be surprised if was a legit consideration made for people who might go back and read the Masked Empire after dav lol- in the same way that Trespasser only really spoils the book if you already know what happens.

But for me, every note signed with his name is almost a tongue-in-cheek warning about what's to come. Felassan. A slow arrow, fired apparently mockingly into the sky, only to strike true when it's least expected. A solution executed with neither kindness nor explanation, serving first and foremost the interests of the one who fired it. Felassan's presence in the game ever so slightly encodes a reminder of who you're actually dealing with and what his core tenants are, whether as an ally or an adversary. You only know if you know, but it doesn't seem an accident to me that this reoccurring name of a general who shaped himself in honor of the Dread Wolf's unorthodox cleverness is so key to these traces of Fen'Harel's past, despite, again, never directly being discussed.

Anyways, to Rook. First, I gotta give a shoutout to Bryony Corrigan, whose voice I used for mine- she honestly made the game for me, especially in moments where I felt unsure of it. I love Rook, I love how they're written, and I love how they're performed. While a complete blank slate protagonist can be really fun, I find putting myself as a player in conversation with limitations given by the game really fun and interesting, and often surprising! And I do feel there's still plenty of flexibility.

My perspective on the relationship between Rook and Solas in Veilguard is specific to how I played of course, and I haven't seen other versions of their dynamic at this point to compare so I can't speak to them. But my experience was as such:

I didn't come into the game wanting to intentionally antagonize him. If he rose at me, I rose at him- and those moments of tension were really, really fun. But I tried to accept what he gave me with a fairly open mind. Skepticism, sure, but also the knowledge that ultimately, we both wanted Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain gone, and he knew them better than I did.

It was really gratifying, then, to see our rocky partnership evolve over time into what seemed like a genuine respect. But it didn't really feel straightforward to me either. For example, the conversation before Weisshaupt held a lot of weight for me: listening to him tell that chilling tale about undermining an enemy with persistent laughter and finding that 'Do whatever it takes to remove those who oppose you' was something we came out aligned on was.... There was an element of foreboding to that. Like, I had found myself actively trying to impress him here! And feeling good when it seemed like I had, but uneasy about how I had done it, even when I agreed with what I'd said.

And of course, after that comes Arlathan. Solas' big hero moment. This is the point in the game where our alliance finally felt comfortable to me. The conversation in the fade after was the first time that it really seemed like we were on even ground. And the game- not just Solas- told me here outright that I had earned his respect! After that, I didn't consider betrayal a possibility for a moment. Honestly, I barely even considered him an antagonist at all, because he had become a partner instead! I was expecting something clever down the line, but I wasn't worried about it hurting me. Our disagreements had been set aside, and the goal of his that I had initially opposed had been so thoroughly usurped I had forgotten that he was even pursuing it. And yes, that's perhaps naivety on my part, but I was so distracted by that not at all being the main plot that I forgot that it actually still was. Which is the whole point, right? He waits until your head is turned the other way to strike.

All this to say, my reaction when you kill Ghilan'nain and Solas uses the instability of the Veil to force you into his prison went beyond shock and confusion. It wasn't until well into his villain monologue that I was able to accept that he had betrayed me at all- having been thus far trying desperately to convince myself that the sequence I was seeing was Elgar'nan playing mind games in retaliation, and not actually Solas.

That prison moment is his Slow Arrow. You are Anaris to Elgar'nan's Andruil, the dagger the chink in her armor, and Ghilan'nain's death the golden arrow striking you in the back.

The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap.

And I should say, I was coming at this all from the meta perspective of someone who loves Solas and empathizes with him and has never seen him as irredeemable or evil- and I, the player, who believed that all game and is ultimately satisfied with the resolution I got- felt hoodwinked as fuck in this moment lmao!!

There's a line in the prison that Varric has about it being easier for Solas to play the villain when he knows he's causing harm- so I do think he plays up his sinisterness here on purpose. But it's such a slap in the face coming straight off of "You have earned the respect of the Dread Wolf." A true and profound betrayal, at least for me.

And it doesn't stop there! His trickster maneuvers and half-truths aren't done until the credits roll. I love that when you meet again, he is nothing but apologies. He makes every concession- that Varric was a good man, that every victory in this fight has been yours, that he needs you and not the other way around, that he was wrong and made mistakes and betrayed people who never deserved it. And of course, we know from experience at this point that this won't stop him from doing it again anyways. But he never holds back from placing the blame on himself. Agreeing with you. Telling you you're right, and that Elgar'nan must be stopped. He only ever says things that are true. Things that are aligned with your point of view.

"[The veil] will never come down by my hand." Well, yes. Because it will fall on its own when Elgar'nan is dead. You won't hardly have to do anything at that point, Solas, will you?

It doesn't matter if Rook isn't falling for it, because if they don't accept his partnership, they lose! That's it! It's the same as it was at the start, but with the added sting of knowing it probably won't work out in your favor this time.

I remember before launch John Epler saying that Solas sees himself in Rook, which really echoes throughout the whole game for me. There are some ways you could say Solas seems opposite to Rook- and of course this can wax and wane depending on roleplaying choices, but the central conceit of Rook as Varric's recruit is that they are a specialist in being willing to act. And on the surface at least, that's kind of counter to Solas' Slow Arrow, right? Blunt force versus delayed gratification. But not entirely! Because every backstory we have for Rook revolves around a kind of heroism that is unorthodox enough to have left you ultimately punished for it. Like yeah, yeah, you saved some lives.... The optics were kinda bad though, so maybe you could go on a sabbatical for a while?

Rook is, from the start, an unconventional and unsung hero, admonished by some for ruffling feathers that they shouldn't have in pursuit of a noble goal. Not unlike Fen'Harel.

I find, too, that there's kind of a nesting doll of parallels around Rook and Solas as foils that the whole story hinges on:

We see Solas, his regrets plastered on every wall, each of them tied to Mythal. At every turn he seems to warn her that this is not the right path, but he follows her down it anyways, until he is left with nothing but an overwhelming need to fix what they have broken.

We see Felassan, who still wears Mythal's vallaslin on his face, challenging Solas' judgement and methods, but still standing by him through the rebellion, after the Veil, for however many thousands of years they slept. Ultimately, in the Masked Empire, the thing that makes him falter is his admiration for someone else's pursuit of freedom. His admiration for Briala.

"I suspect you'll hate this, but she reminds me of-"

Solas is Rook. Solas is Briala. Upstarts, flawed defenders, people who are made into leaders because of their willingness to fight for something. Who see injustice and cannot rest.

Solas is Felassan, the devoted general. One who pushes against his orders but cannot deny them. Someone who loves the cause, but more than that is dedicated to the person who champions it. A voice of reason who, in the end, turns away.

Solas is Mythal, a pragmatic leader, responsible for uncountable deaths. Someone who has relied on partners and power structures that have led her down a dark path, partners whose mistakes in their pursuit of power have become her own. Partners who in the end betray her.

Solas is trapped in his regrets because they are not all his. He struggles with having been failed and with how he has failed others, and in his mind the two become conflated. He carries these contradictory roles on his back- perpetrator and victim, betrayer and betrayed- and cannot see how to overcome them. He is ultimately freed by Mythal's absolution because the foremost factor in his crusade is not belief but guilt.

The ends have to justify the means, because there is no other way he can live with himself. And at every step, he is trying to redeem Mythal as much as he is trying to redeem himself.

He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He wanted to give wisdom, not orders. I will always follow where you go.

He left a scar when he burned her off his face.

It was all for her. It was always for her.

Solas' duplicity is unending, but so is his devotion. And there is such an earnestness to a Rook, always betrayed, that sees and empathizes with that and uses it to free him.

* I will say that during the game I was definitely wishing you could show your hand to him a little more and press him about his memories prior to the endgame (and separate from this I have quibbles with the impact of some of those memory reveals- like wrt the delivery just not feeling as weighty as I would like. The payoff is absolutely still there in the end, it just felt to me like they were too nonchalantly getting a ton of info out that had to be established moving forward, despite these being like earthshattering reveals that people have Correctly (!!!!) theorized about for up to 15 years). That being said, in retrospect it would have lessened the impact of the finale to have pressed Solas about, for example, his relationship to Mythal prior to absolutely pulling the rug out from under him with it at the 11th hour. And additionally, it's a structural nightmare because you can uncover the memories at almost any point in the story, and you don't have constant access to Solas to chat with him about them. Which you shouldn't imo, in service to the story being told!! But it's also true that early on I found scenes with Solas super gripping, and scenes with my team often...not. And that was initially disheartening, but developed positively over time on all fronts once the game didn't have to worry about setting things up. So, I did wish for more here at first, but I've revised my opinion now that I can see the whole arc.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 Beautiful Destruction . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- Some addictions aren't found in powder form. Sometimes they're found in the way he says your name between midnight fights and morning regrets. A toxic love story.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, allusions to smut, mature/dark themes, mentions of blood, substance use, domestic abuse (from both parties), jealousy, toxic relationships, angst, no happy ending...

disclaimer -- with having read said warnings please note that this is a work of fiction, and as a writer, I do not condone or romanticize toxic relationships, substance abuse, or any form of physical/emotional abuse. This story explores dark themes for fictional purposes only. Please proceed with caution if these themes might be triggering.

main masterlist(s) | taglist | wc: 1.4k

The moonlight catches in his hair as Rafe Cameron stares at you across his bedroom, and you hate how beautiful he looks in this light—all sharp edges and barely contained rage. Your lip is still bleeding from where he kissed you too hard, punishment for the marks you left on his neck, visible enough that everyone will know. That was the point, after all.

The residual high from the lines you both did earlier is wearing off, leaving that familiar hollow feeling in your chest. It started as just a party thing, but now neither of you can seem to face these conversations sober anymore. The powder traces on his credit card mock you from the nightstand.

"Stay," he demands more than whispers, and there's that dangerous edge to his voice that should make you run. Instead, it makes you want to push harder, see how far you can take this before something breaks. "Just fucking stay this time."

You don't turn around as you pull your torn shirt back on, trying not to remember last month when you ripped his favorite button-down to shreds after finding texts from another girl on his phone. The fight that followed left a scar on your shoulder from where you hit the corner of his desk, and a matching one on his forearm from your keys. You both swore it would never happen again, but that's what you always say.

"Why? So we can pretend this is something it's not?"

"Don't do that," he says, and you hear him stand up, the sheets rustling. "Don't act like this is just sex when you're the one who showed up at my door at three AM last week, drunk and crying about seeing me with that girl at the Wreck."

"I wasn't crying," you snap, but your hands shake as you button your jeans. "And I don't care who you fuck."

He laughs, that hollow sound that means you've hurt him. Good. That's what you do best. "Right. That's why you made sure to let the whole party hear us tonight? Why you kept saying my name loud enough for everyone downstairs to hear through the walls?"

You finally turn, a cruel smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I just really enjoyed myself."

"You're such a liar," he growls, crossing the room in three quick strides. His hand finds your throat, not squeezing, just resting there—a reminder of how he held you earlier. "You're so scared of actually feeling something that you'd rather destroy us both."

"There is no 'us,'" you say, but your pulse races under his palm. "There never was."

His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling just hard enough to hurt. "Then why do you keep coming back?"

"Because you're convenient," you lie, watching the words land like punches. "Because you're always so desperate for it, aren't you? Poor little rich boy, so starved for love he'll take whatever scraps I throw him."

You expect him to push you away, to finally give up. Instead, he kisses you, hard and brutal, tasting of bourbon and blood. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker than you've ever seen them.

"You want to talk about desperate?" His voice is dangerously soft. "You're the one who begged me not to stop last night. Who cries my name when you come. Who shows up at my door every time you're lonely because you know I'll let you in. Because you know I love you, even though you don't deserve it."

The truth of his words feels like drowning. You shove him hard, needing space, needing air. "I never asked you to love me."

"No," he agrees, letting you go but not backing away. "You just made sure no one else could. How many people have you scared away from me? How many times have you shown up just when I was starting to move on?"

Your hand cracks across his face before you can stop yourself. The sound echoes in the quiet room. It reminds you of that night three months ago—the one you both pretend never happened. When the coke and jealousy and rage all exploded at once, leaving you both with bruises you had to explain away to concerned friends. He'd grabbed your wrists too hard; you'd thrown a bottle that shattered inches from his head. You both ended up on the floor, somewhere between fighting and fucking, leaving trails of blood from the broken glass neither of you had bothered to avoid.

"Fuck you," you spit, but there are tears in your eyes now.

"You already did," he says coldly. "Multiple times. Loud enough for the whole fucking house to hear. Was it worth it? Did it make you feel better about the fact that you're in love with me too?"

His smile is all teeth. "Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"I don't love you," you say, the words scraping your throat raw. "I don't even like you."

"Keep telling yourself that." He grabs your wrist as you reach for the door. "But we both know you'll be back. You always come back."

You jerk away from him. "Not this time."

"Right," he scoffs, running a hand through his hair—the same nervous gesture he made the morning you found him passed out in his bathroom, nose bleeding, pulse too fast. You'd stayed then, nursed him through the comedown, only to steal what was left of his stash before leaving. "Give it a week. You'll get drunk, see me with someone else, and show up at my door pretending you just want sex. And I'll let you in, because I'm stupid enough to keep loving you even though you're destroying me piece by piece."

"Then stop letting me in," you challenge, even as your chest constricts at the thought.

His laugh is bitter. "Maybe I will. Maybe next time I'll have someone else in my bed. Someone who isn't afraid to stay until morning. Would that finally make you feel something?"

The image hits you like a physical blow—Rafe with someone else, someone who deserves him. Someone better than you. The jealousy rises like bile in your throat.

"Do whatever you want," you say, proud that your voice doesn't shake. "I don't care."

"Prove it," he dares you. "Walk out that door and don't come back. For real this time."

Your hand finds the doorknob, and for a moment—just a moment—you let yourself imagine turning around, confessing everything. How you've been in love with him since that first night. How you push him away because you know you'll only break him in the end. How you'd rather hurt him on your terms than wait for him to realize you're not worth staying for.

Instead, you say, "Goodbye, Rafe," and step out into the night, leaving behind the only person who's ever seen through every lie you've told yourself.

Through the door, you hear glass shatter against the wall. Then another. And another.

You make it to your car before the sobs tear free from your chest. Your phone buzzes—a text from him.

I hate that I still love you.

You type back through blurred vision: I hate that I let you.

You drive away, your hands shaking as you resist the urge to dip into the baggie in your purse—the one you bought with money stolen from his wallet while he was sleeping last week. He probably knew; he always knows. Just like you know about the times he's followed you to parties, watched you flirt with other guys just to hurt him, waited for you to break down and come crawling back.

Next week, or next month, one of you will break. You'll end up back in his bed, adding new scars to your collection, both physical and emotional. You'll share lines and lies and bruising kisses, pretending the chemicals in your blood are the only reason your heart races when he touches you. Because that's what you do—you break each other apart and call it love.

Maybe one day, one of you will be strong enough to end this for good. Maybe it'll be when one of you finally goes too far, pushes too hard, breaks something that can't be fixed with apologetic kisses and promises you never mean to keep.

But not tonight. Tonight, you're already calculating how long to wait before texting him about the coke you just bought, knowing he'll let you in even though you both swore last time was the last time.

It's never the last time.

a/n -- Thanks to anyone who made it to the end of this fic! As always, all likes, comments, and reblogs keep me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

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[ahgasegotarmy116]

Shut Up and Kiss Me | Jeon Jungkook | Epilogue

Summary: Jungkook let's you work on his second single 3D but although he's singing this to girls all over he reminds you that you're the only one he wants Pairing: Backup Dancer Reader x Idol Jungkook (f2l they're honestly crackheads I love them) Word Count: 4.7K~ (barely edited per usual lmao) Warnings: Explicit language and smuuttt (he's so hot ya'll I can't) a/n: Kay this took me ling enough to get out but I figured it was about time since the main story hit 1K notes!!! Like what??? Ya'll are actually insane! Thank you so much and I hope you like the epilogue as much as you liked the first part 🫣 p.s. This takes place partially during the 3D dance practice video so yeah I hope ya'll enjoy 🥰 Be sure to read Shut Up and Kiss Me first 💜

"Alright guys go ahead and take a break. Jungkook can you come here for a second?" the choreographer calls out.

"Y/n" Nari whispers, right in my ear scaring me half to death making me place my hand over my heart to ground myself. "Don't do that!" I whisper scream at her. "Not my fault you're staring girly I said your name like three times" she teases and I scoff before walking over to grab my water bottle.

"Am I not allowed to stare at my boyfriend?" I say cocking a brow at her after taking a drink of water. "You are but you also have to remember that your boyfriend is Jungkook and not everyone here knows that" she says, scolding me and bringing me back to reality.

"Hey" Jungkook says, jogging up to us. "What did he want?" I ask, nodding my head towards the head choreographer for this song. "Well..." he says rubbing the back of his neck. "Well what?" I ask, scared that theres something wrong.

"Well they wanted to tell me everyone is doing a great job and the formations are solid but..." he trails off again. "Jeon Jungkook if you trail off like that one more time I'm gonna have a heart attack now tell me what's wrong?" I scold, waiting for his answer.

"They said that we had good chemistry while we were dancing together" he starts off and I let out a breath, glad that it wasn't something major. "But maybe too much chemistry. They think it looks obvious that we're dating with the way we're interacting with each other verses the rest of the dancers" he says and grabs my water bottle out of my hand and starts chugging it nervously.

"Really?" I cringe, loving the fact that we show clear chemistry but also hating the fact that I haven't blended in like a background dancer should. "Yeah they kinda just told me to tone it down and asked me to tell you the same" he says, handing me my now empty water bottle, cringing as well at the notes that they had given.

"Well alright then I guess I'll try my best" I say, shaking my arms and legs real quick to physically shake off the pressure I had felt growing. "Yeah I will too" he says, nodding his head and smiling at my actions.

"What are you smiling at?" I ask, eyes narrowing, a playful scowl written all over my face. "You look cute when you're nervous" he compliments with a crooked smile and I roll my eyes, scoffing at his words.

Once I hear the choreographer call out to everyone to come back and I start to make my way over Jungkook grabs me by my wrist and pulls me back towards him making me fall on his chest. "What are yo-" I start but he kisses me right on the lips and dips me real quick causing all the dancers to gasp and cheer us on.

"Alright you two that's enough" the choreographer scold and Jungkook breaks the kiss and steadies me on my feet again. I take a deep breath, my breath literally being taken away from how sudden that was and how embarrassed I am on top of it.

He rests his forehead on mine and lets out a dry chuckle before I wack him on the bicep which happens to be on full display today with his white muscle shirt on. "Why did you do that?" I whisper scream to him, looking around at all the eyes that have started to trickle away from us and listen to the instructions for the next run through.

"Just because he said we couldn't show too much chemistry while we're dancing doesn't mean that we can't do it while we're not" he smirk, placing a kiss on the back of my hand before running over to the group that's gathered in the middle of the practice room.

I shake my head at him and make my way over on my own, wiping my lips to take away his messy saliva he left on them and when he sees me do so he pouts a bit before looking turning his attention to where it once was.

"What just happened?" Nari whispers when I walk up next to her. "Don't look at me, Jungkook did it. He said something about they said we were showing too much chemistry while dancing but we can when we're not. I don't know something like that" I mumble and she nods her head and goes quiet for a second to listen but breaks her silence again.

"You know all of us had to sign new NDAs today right?" she says and I turn to look at her, my brows scrunched together in confusion. "Really? But why didn't I have to?" I question and she laughs at the same time that the choreographer tells us to get in starting position.

"We signed them so that they made sure we would keep our mouths shut about you two" she winks and the two of us and two other of the girls line up behind Jungkook to get in formation, waiting for the music to start.

"You're kidding me right?" I whisper and she shakes her head, "Your name was on it and everything. They even highlighted it since you guys are the newest idol couple. Well a couple that includes an idol" she says, clarifying her wording unnecessarily.

"Okay I get it I get it" I say, and cover my face with both of my hands in embarrassment. No wonder everyone had been giving me weird looks today.

As Jungkook's voice blares through the speakers Nari and I compose ourselves and wait for our parts.

"I can't touch you through the phone" Jungkook starts, getting into his idol mindset and I get weak in the knees like I always do but take a deep breath and remember to maintain chemistry with him but not too much...

"When there's two dimensions..." he says and our eyes lock when we step into each other. 'He's so fucking hot' is the only thing I can process, my body on autopilot, following muscle memory and willing myself to stop thinking about him.

"So if you're ready, and if you let me" 'Trust me I've let him' I think, my mind wandering to the places I've let him- "See it, in motion, in 3D" he sings, his voice going in and out of my head as I follow the steps along with everyone else.

'Okay why don't I just focus on the other dancers? Yeah make sure our formations look well and our moves are in sync' I think to myself and go along with that.

"Body to body to body to body to body" comes through next and I push on his right shoulder while one of the others girls pushes on his left and I look at the way he's grabbing onto him, definitely a lot harder than she needs to me and I annoyingly take note of it.

"You give me brand new emotion, you got me drinkin' that potion" he says and I hold onto his shoulder while we all do this hip thrust thing. I don't know what the choreographer was thinking when he gave the girls this kind of a move but alright. Being next to him and holding onto his while he does it tho is um...well let's just say the flashbacks are a lot more vivid this time.

"I just wanna see you like that see you like that..." 'God I swear why did I start focusing on the other dancers? Now all I can think about are the girls and everything that goes along with this song and how Jungkook's voice and music dictates our every movement.

"'Cause you know how I like it girl" 'Yes Jungkook, I know how you like it, and you know how I like it. When is this song gonna be over? This is honestly some sick form of torture at this point. You know what, lemme just look at the staff, yeah the staff will be more or less harmless right?'.

When I look towards the staff though my eye catch Jungkook's in the mirror behind them and it takes everything in me to not stop dead in my tracks.

The look in his eyes is mesmerizing, promises of things we would never say aloud hidden behind that fiery stare and it brings me some form of comfort, knowing that although he's singing this song to women through out the world and with female dancers around him, I'm the only one he's got his eyes on. The one he's singing his song to.

I wonder if the reason he chose this song was because these might've been some of his thoughts and feeling for me when we weren't living in the same city, or weren't even on the same continent. Why do I have to keep on having these thoughts? I swear I'm just digging myself deeper.

"I had one girl, too boring" I hear Jack's voice come through and I roll my eyes, chancing a glare at Jungkook and I see him wince, remembering the scolding I gave him when he showed me the song for the first time.

"Am I not enough for you? Too boring?" I fumed. It was on a day when I had been feeling a little insecure to begin with and when he told me he had another song I had been excited to listen because he was excited to show me.

"Baby that Jack's verse, I swear I don't feel like that! You know I've loved you since I was little! I promise!" he pleads and I just end up giving him the silent treatment for the rest of the night but I let him cling to me and he apologized over and over again.

"We already asked him to rewrite his lyrics a few times and I felt bad asking him again" he says, placing his chin on my shoulder and arms wrapped around my waist, being positively attached to my hip.

I turn around to face him, still with his arms wrapped around my waist to make sure he's being honest with me.

"You sure you don't mean that?" I say, glaring up at him and he nods, the poutiest lips and the saddest doe eyes I've ever seen are granted to me along with his response. "Okay" I say, cupping his face and he closes his eyes leaning into my touch before I tap him twice on the cheek.

"Hey" he whines, scrunching his brows together, a new flavor of a pout on his face. "Just make sure that any more features you have on this album young man have to do with monogamy, you got that?" I say pointedly and he nods his head up and down violently.

"I promise! I'll make sure to tell the producers" he says and I hum in response, loving his panicked response. "Why couldn't his verse have been like Latto's?" I groan and try to walk away from him but he pulls me back.

"And what might you mean by that princess?" he says, taking on a whole new demeanor knowing exactly what I mean based off the explicit lyrics. "How they more or less kinda sorta are based off of a true story" I mumble, looking down at where he's pressed our bodies together and dying to get rid of these clothes already.

"Yeah? Which part? Maybe I should make sure it's completely based off of a true story hm?" he says, his hands slowly trailing his hands down from my waist grab my ass, pulling me even closer if possible.

I lean my head against his chest getting shy at the thought that he's keep his promise and he laughs at the cute gesture mixed with the explicit words that garnered this reaction.

"Is my girl getting embarrassed?" he taunts, placing a kiss on top of my head but still making no moves to take his hands off my ass. I whine and he laughs again and lets up, leaning back to try and catch my gaze.

"You know I love you right?" he asks and I hide my face even more, making sure he can't see how red it's gotten. I nod my head and mumble out a muffled 'love you too' but he's not satisfied by my answer and starts walking us backwards, the back of my knees hit the couch and as a result has me not so gracefully falling onto it.

"Since you're too embarrassed to say that you love me it guess I'll just have to make you scream it instead" he says leaving me biting my lip, my heart rate skyrocketing when he comes closer...

'So if you're ready, and if you let me, I wanna see it in motion in 3D' blares through the speaker one last time at the end of the song, all of the dancers going on with the choreography and Jungkook looking back at us, at me and he knows what's on my mind and smirks through the lyrics and I know I'm an absolute goner once we're alone together.

Why do all of these songs have to be so sexual? Every single time we're done with practice or he finishes up his own rehearsals it seems as though he can't wait to be alone with me. Not that I'm complaining but how can one man contain this much stamina.

When Latto said 'Seven days a week, Seven different sheets, Seven different angles I can be your fantasy' she really hit it right on the head.

'You know how I like it girl, 3D' finally closes out the song and everyone stops, panting in effort to catch our breaths can be heard throughout the room and a few of us dramatically fall to the floor in an effort to ground ourselves, including Jungkook.

"Alright everyone that's a wrap. We'll see you guys bright and early Monday morning with one last rehearsal before we fly out to film the music video. Thank you very much and get some rest because we've got a long week ahead of us" the choreographer says and we all clap for each other and get ready to grab our stuff to go.

Jungkook comes over and gives me a hand to help me up and I take it right away, not even having to put in any effort with him putting in all the work to get me back on my feet. "You done for the day?" I ask, seeing that look in his eye, knowing exactly what's bound to happen and as soon as he's about to open his mouth one of the staff members calls him over again.

"Meet me in my studio, this shouldn't take long" he whispers in my ear leaving me shuddering as he leaves me, not giving me even a second to answer before he's jogging over to said staff.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go home together but it looks like you've got other plans" Nari says, scaring me again for what is it the third time today? I look at her and she knows the answer already, rolling her eyes and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Just don't get pregnant" she says, louder than I'd care to admit. "Nari!" I scold and she laughs, causing our little conversation to catch Jungkook's eye, granting me a wink in response but quickly switching back to a more professional demeanor.

"I'll see you later" she sings and I groan before picking up my dance bag and heading towards the locker rooms to shower. I'm thankful that they have these for us because I would hate to have to deal with being disgustingly sweaty just waiting for him to come back.

~~~~~

Once I finish up I make my way to Jungkook's studio where I see him sitting at his desk, hair still dripping a bit while he towel dries it a bit more.

"Thought I told you to wait here for me" he teases, draping the small towel around his neck before getting up to walk towards me, placing a hand on my waist and pulling me in to kiss him. I hum into the kiss, loving moments like these where we can openly be ourselves again.

"Didn't know how long they were gonna keep you so I took my time in there" referring to said shower and he kisses me again before taking my bag off my shoulder and throwing his towel in the little laundry basket by the door.

"Looks like you're gonna need another one soon though" he says, turning around and stalking towards me leaving me walking backwards until I stupidly back into his desk. "Is that a threat?" I ask, taking us back to that morning after.

"Thought by now you would know that I always keep my promises" he says and places his hand on my jaw, putting me at just the right angle to kiss me.

He starts slow, full of the longing and desire he had shown me when he was looking at me through that mirror and deepening the kiss, making me fall further and further into him.

Trailing my hands up his chest I bring them up to wrap my arm around his neck, trapping him against my lips while I use the other to run my fingers through his hair, making my nails drag along his scalp and pull at his locks just how he likes it leaving him groaning into the kiss.

"Tell me what you were thinking about during rehearsal" he says, pulling away from my lips before kissing me one last time and the trailing his lips down my neck. "I wasn't thinking about anything" I gasp when he bites down on my collarbone in response.

"Don't lie to me, I saw the way your eyes glossed over and how flustered you got when I finally caught your eye. Baby was having flashbacks wasn't she?" he teases, trailing his hands under the shirt I'm wearing which happens to be his.

I whimper when his hands cup my breasts, the warmth of his skin seeping through the pitiful excuse for a bra and he pinches one of my nipples as a punishment for not telling him the truth.

"I was thinking about you" I gasp, feeling him smiling against my skin before leaning back and pulling up my shirt a little, waiting for me to give him the go ahead by lifting up my arms which I do right away, used to having done this time and time again in his studio.

"Care to elaborate?" he asks cocking a brow at me, leaving me rubbing my thighs together giving him clear answers as to what I had been thinking of.

"Remembering that you know how I like it? Perhaps the champagne confetti you know you give me every time? Rain rain rain you can't fake it?" he says, trailing his hand down and pressing a finger against my center, already feeling how wet I am for him.

"Seems like she's already soaking wet isn't she" he says, trailing his hand up towards the drawstring on my sweats and tugging them as a plea to take them off. I hop off the desk and he immediately helps me out of them, smiling at the small wet stain that's been left on them before setting me up on his desk again, totally bare with only my bra on which is new and incredibly sheer him having just noticed since it's the last thing that's keeping me from being fully exposed.

I bring hands to my back to unclasp it but he tells me to leave it on. "It looks so pretty on you. Wanna fuck you in it" he growls into my ear before leaning back and ridding himself of his clothing and smashing his lips up against mine, having become even more needy if possible while scanning my body and taking off his clothes.

"Been thinking about this all day. Wish I could fuck you in here all the time. Can't even work properly in here. Just thinking about how I've fucked you everywhere in this room" he says, driving me to insanity while he drags his dick up and down my slit, making me dizzy from the stimulating but needing more to satiate this hunger he's built up in me.

"Jungkook please, do something" I plead, remembering the fact that this room is soundproof meaning I can be as loud as I want in here which is another reason why he loves having sex in here. He tells me he that sometimes he wishes it wasn't though. Says he wants the whole company to know how he makes good on his word and is fucking me right.

"Needy little thing now aren't you" he says, holding back his need to be buried balls deep in me in favor of making me beg some more. I scoot my hips forward and pull him closer in an effort to do it myself but he gives me absolutely no power over the situation.

"Gotta stretch you out" he mumbles against my lips and replaces his dick with his fingers, dragging it along my folds to get some of my slick on it to make it easier to slide in and after playing why clit a little and gaining breathy whimpers from me in response he slides a finger in, drawing circles along my clit in an effort to help me relax.

He does a quick job of it but makes sure to be gentle nonetheless while prepping me for him, needing to me inside me now. As a result he's soon pulling his fingers out of me and placing them in my mouth, distracting me from the fact that seconds later he's pushing into me, leaving me moaning around his fingers.

When I bite down on them from the surprise of him putting it in he hisses from feeling my walls clench around him along with the pain from the bite.

He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and places both hands on my hips and pull me towards him, slamming the rest of his length inside of me leaving me arching my back and choking out a sob.

He snaps his hips into me over and over again at a fast pace he only settles for in times where he's extremely needy or feeling a need to remind me of who I belong to. The first being the case for this situation.

"Shouldn't have let you work on this project" he grunts while his hands grip my hips even harder, dimpling my skin, bound to leave marks tomorrow.

"Drives me fucking insane seeing you move like that, you know that? Makes it so hard for me to not pop a boner right then and there. Fuck how did I get so lucky?" he growls in my ear, leaving me drowning in the sound of his voice, hearing all the thoughts he's been having this whole time.

"You're lucky I took a chance on the loner" I slur out leaving him slowing his pace so he could look at me properly. "Loner huh?" he smirks and I nod, smirking right back at him. He rolls his eyes and picks up the pace again, leaving me giggling at his reaction but soon I'm moaning his name with ever snap of his hips, all my coherent thought long gone when I'm close to tipping over.

"You've got a smart mouth on you today huh? Just begging to get ruined like always, my girl is never satisfied until she's begging for me to stop. Telling me it's too much. You're so fucking adorable when you cry like that. Fuck I wish I cou-" "Shut Up" I choke out, cutting him off by smashing my lips against his, not being able to handle his dirty mouth anymore.

Although I know it's almost impossible for someone to hear us I can't help but want to muffle my moans with his mouth when I cum, making his swallow all of them as his hips stutter and my orgasm triggers him leaving his slowing down, changing his pace to one that more lazy but just as deep, fucking us both through our highs before he pulls out making me whine as the loss of contact.

Maybe I am insatiable, maybe I'm completely lost in him. Not just because of who he is or what he does to me but just because he's him. Someone that I want to spend my life with and although I've felt like that for a long time I'm sure the freshly fucked mindset I have right now is the reason these feelings have come to the front again. 

He rests his forehead against mine and focuses on cleaning me up with a clean towel he had somehow gotten when I was lost in a daze and walks away, cleaning himself up quickly and throwing some sweats on.  

Once he's done and throws yet another towel in the basket he walks back over to me and kisses me. Over and over and over again whispering sweet nothings between every kiss and I swear I could never ask for someone more perfect in my entire life. 

"You okay?" he asks, pulling me off the desk and holding onto my hips, keeping me on my feet when my knees buckle once I make contact with the floor. "Yeah I'm, yeah I'm fine" I say, embarrassed by stumbling even though for the most part I always end up like this after we fuck. 

"Did a number on you huh?" he smirks, guiding me over to the couch to rest after having helped me into thankfully another fresh change of clothes I had in my dance bag with me. "Shut up" I grumble and flop down onto it, laying down and he chuckles before laying down and putting his full weight on top of me. 

I groan and hit him on the shoulders, hoping to get him off of me but he just laughs in response. "I swear you're trying to kill me" I say through labored breaths, but he thankfully alters his position so he's still on top of me but distributes some of his weight elsewhere. 

"No, I just love you that's all" he says, propping his chin on my chest and looking at me as if I hung the stars for him. "I love you too weirdo" I say, ruffling his hair when he pouts at me words, feigning offense.

 "First I'm a loner and now I'm a weirdo? You hurt me with your words" he whines, placing his hands on his chest right over where his heart is. "You are a weirdo" I say, sitting back up and cupping his face turning it towards me. "But you're my weirdo" I whisper, placing my forehead against his and rubbing my nose up against his, giving him eskimo kisses. 

"We need to get home" he says standing up and grabbing my hand to hoist me up as well. "Wait, why?" I ask, questioning his urgency and also getting a fluttering feeling when he call his place home as if we lived there together. 

"You're too cute to fuck just once today and I wanna spoil you" he says, kissing me and making me lose myself in him again. When he pulls away I laugh as I watch him clean up everything and grab both of our bags to carry out and when I try to reach to take mine from him he refuses. 

"Least I can do for my girl after that champagne confetti is carry her bag" he teases and drags me out of the studio before I'm able to scold him properly. "Jeon Jungkook you better watch yourself" I growl and he laughs, thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"I'd rather see you, in motion, in 3D" he says pulling me into the elevator and pressing G for garage while I push him against the wall once the doors close. "Feisty are we? Thought I took care of that back there" he taunts. 

"Just shut up and kiss me" I mumble against his lips and he switches roles, turning me around and pressing me against it instead. "You're gonna get yourself into trouble you know that?" he says between kisses, gripping onto my hips and pulling them flush up against his, showing me how hard he still is. 

"I counting on it" I say and we laugh before he kisses me breathless, the elevator taking us, down down down, each moment bringing us closer to my demise. Knowing tonight will leave me completely shattered, but luckily I've got him to pick up the pieces.

The End

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[sleepylittlestarwrites]

shadows of the heart

xavier + sylus + reader

⟢ premise: all of the guys have spent lifetimes protecting mai (mc), but she’s grown colder with each reincarnation, toying with their feelings and lives. reader/you join the unicorns team and fall for xavier, forcing him to confront his past with mai when he falls for you too. meanwhile, you and sylus have been super close since childhood—flirty and touchy, but that’s totally normal (so you tell yourself;)

**the main struggle in pt 1 is xavier breaking free from mc’s hold. in this half, sylus and you remain in denial about your feelings; p2 will focus more on their friendship/eventual polyamory! if this seems familiar, I first wrote it for a request on my old blog! i rewrote/added a lot though!! I hope you like it this time, too :)) <3 *original request prompt was xavier chooses to save mc over you on mission and regrets it/tries to win you back, that’s where this starts! :)

⟢ trigger warnings: 18+⁠ explicit language & sexual content⁠❥depictions of mental health themes: depression, fear of abandonment⁠, selfharm: putting oneself into danger❥stalking themes⁠❥bullying ⁠❥mental/physical abuse themes⁠❥possessive behavior⁠ (these themes are mild but pls keep in mind that xavier is in a bad headspace bc of mai, who has put him through decades of abusive tendencies/behavior 🌸💗)

⟢ acts/kinks: ⁠mutual/filmed masturbation⁠❥dirty talk⁠❥praising⁠❥teasing⁠❥edging⁠❥exhibitionism if you squint⁠❥nipple play⁠❥wrist binding⁠❥cum eating⁠❥anal⁠❥face fucking⁠❥pussy eating⁠❥overstim⁠❥unprotected sex❥con somnophilia❥multiple orgasms

⟢ additional notes: xavier/reader/sylus❥ angst⁠❥heartbreak⁠❥betrayal⁠❥childhood friends to lovers/eventual polyamory (pt.2)⁠❥based on lads main storyline⁠❥reader is not lads mc❥unrequited love⁠❥maybe ooc for some⁠❥softdom xavier⁠❥it's unrealistic but xavier's a virgin⁠❥touch-starved xav❥sylus is a fliiirtt ❥love triangle ❥18k wc

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱hiii ❀ some of you might recognize this! I first shared it on my old blog, acciotaitlynn. it started as a quick response to an anonymous request, but I really fell in love with the story and characters. soo long story short, I ended up rewriting it completely, and the word count increased by 12k 😳 hope you enjoy it! :)) pt.2 coming soon. i'll likely be writing for xavier only on this blog for now, but i might include the others like this sometimes! :)

Xavier remains haunted by the memory of that doomed mission, its recollection gnawing at his mind like an unyielding shadow. He’s replayed the scene over and over; the pain in your eyes, the utter betrayal etched across your features—it’s a sight seared into his very soul, a visual reminder of the unforgivable choice he made that day.

Even though his actions were driven by instinct and centuries of ingrained loyalty, every fiber of him recoiled at the sheer wrongness of what he’d done.

The anguished cry as you hit the ground, the desperate scramble to put distance between yourself and the man you had come to trust—all of it served as a brutal wake-up call. The bond you two had built, which he’d treasured above all, was irrevocably broken—a fracture he fears might never heal.

In the aftermath, Xavier threw himself into his work with an obsessive fervor, desperate to prove his worth and atone for his sins. He took on the most dangerous assignments and faced down hordes of Wanderers with a recklessness that bordered on suicide. Deep down, he knew that no amount of bloodshed could undo the past, yet he couldn’t resist the compulsion to punish himself for his choices.

He remains baffled by the guilt festering within him over the decision to save Mai. In the past, dedicating his life to her—protecting and loving her—had filled him with overwhelming pride. Mai had once been his entire world, his very heart and soul—the one commitment he never questioned.

But now, just the thought of her, the vision of her cold, calculating eyes, makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He still struggles to understand why he chose her over you, why his loyalty to her overrode the growing feelings he harbors for you. That decision left him feeling hollow and lost, a stranger in his own skin.

Xavier can’t pinpoint exactly when his feelings began to blur; he suspects it started the moment he first saw you. It was your first day on the Unicorns team, and while you stood by Mai—the woman he once believed to be the purest, most beautiful soul in the cosmos—all his attention was fixed on you. He remembers vividly how his breath caught, and his normally steady heartbeat began racing uncontrollably when your radiant gaze met his. Everything about you captivated him, stirring a long-dormant desire—a yearning he had nearly forgotten existed.

As the weeks passed, Xavier found himself increasingly distracted by thoughts of you. Your gentle demeanor, your unwavering dedication to protecting the innocent, and the way your laughter could light up even the darkest corners of Linkon City all drew him in like a moth to a flame.

And the two of you quickly connected, diving into spirited discussions about books, video games, and anime that stretched on for hours, his typically reserved nature giving way to a joyful, youthful energy whenever you were near.

Xavier was completely captivated by your passion for storytelling, mesmerized by the sparkle in your eyes as you described your favorite scenes from your newest films and books. Your enthusiasm for life was contagious, drawing out a carefree side of Xavier that had been dormant for decades. In those stolen moments with you, every shared laugh and whispered secret chipped away at the carefully built walls surrounding his heart.

Yet, a nagging question has started to haunt him—a persistent ache at the back of his mind: could his feelings really shift so dramatically, allowing the all-consuming devotion he once reserved for Mai to be overshadowed by the connection forming with you? The very thought sends a shiver down his spine, its implications too terrifying to fully grasp. The idea of losing Mai, of being discarded like yesterday’s trash, is a fate he’s always dreaded more than death.

Unbeknownst to Xavier, those around him see the internal battle playing out, especially Mai. She notices the subtle shifts in his demeanor: the way his gaze lingers on you a bit too long, or how his smile now brightens in your presence rather than hers. With each passing day, her determination to keep him close grows stronger.

During critical missions, she insists on partnering with Xavier alone, her lithe figure pressing against his as they fight side by side. Whenever the three of you are together, she gravitates toward him, her slender mahogany fingers trailing along his arm in gestures that are equally sensual and possessive.

Her icy stare follows you wherever you go—a silent warning to steer clear of what she believes is hers. Even in the privacy of the locker rooms, she makes a point of changing in full view of Xavier now, her sculpted body on display as she stretches languidly, knowing damn well he can’t look away.

She’s started undermining your contributions during team meetings too, dismissing your ideas with a flick of her wrist and a condescending smirk. In the training room, she’ll ‘accidentally’ collide with you, sending you sprawling as she giggles apologetically, her eyes twinkling with a malicious intent masked by false innocence.

At this very moment, Mai’s glittering fingernails are checking up on Xavier’s arm, her touch lingering in a way that goes beyond mere friendship. She leans into him, her body pressed close, her uniform straining against her curves as she looks up at him beneath long, dark lashes.

A flicker of discomfort runs down Xavier’s spine, his skin prickling at her nearness. He meets your eyes, his blue gaze widening with concern as he notices the hurt and jealousy on your delicate face. For an instant, his face lights up with a genuine, glowing smile—one meant exclusively for you, filled with unspoken remorse and longing.

But that smile is fleeting, disappearing like a dying star as you quickly turn away, your rejection stinging him like a physical blow. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggles to mask his emotion with a neutral expression.

You feel nearly guilty for the cold stares and harsh remarks you direct at Xavier these days, yet his betrayal remains raw and unhealed, like an open wound that refuses to mend.

Sometimes, you wish he wouldn’t speak to you at all. Once, his soft voice always brought you comfort, his gentle words enveloping you like a warm embrace. Now, every word feels like shards of glass scraping against your nerves. And his gaze—those big blue eyes filled with guilt and yearning—only serve to drive the knife deeper.

The memory of that fateful mission still haunts you: the sickening lurch in your stomach as Xavier pushed you aside, the searing agony of watching him drag Mai to safety while leaving you alone to battle a vicious monster…

The worst part is that Xavier remains blissfully unaware that Mai orchestrated every detail. She deliberately positioned herself between you and that Wanderer, her actions calculated and precise. And when Xavier’s attention wandered, she gave you a subtle shove, ensuring that you were caught in the creature’s path, forcing him into an impossible choice about whom to save.

You might understand why Xavier made his choice, but you still resent him for it, you still wish that you were the one he had chosen to protect. More than anything, though, you despise Mai. You’ve never hated anyone or anything as much. Disgust wells up inside you when you think of the decades of emotional torment that Xavier and the other men trapped in her web must have endured, all in the name of a love that was never truly returned. Your heart breaks for Xavier as you see the deep emptiness flickering in his eyes when he believes no one is watching, the way his shoulders droop under the burden of misplaced loyalty.

And Sylus… your dearest friend. Just the thought of the countless times she’s reduced him to tears with her cruel indifference fills you with a rage so intense it threatens to overwhelm you entirely.

The anger is suffocating—a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. You feel as though you’re losing control of your emotions, drowning in a sea of betrayal and fury. The images are relentless in your mind—Mai’s icy smile, Xavier’s guilty stare, the way he pushed you aside without hesitation.

You’re not sure how much longer you can take this. The storm raging in your mind is slowly consuming you, threatening to shatter every last remnant of your sanity. You don’t know what to do anymore, but you know that you can’t keep living like this. Something has to change.

As Xavier walks between you and Mai, his mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. He glances at her, noticing how her eyes track his every move, the possessive gleam that once ignited his spirit now suffocating him.

Turning to you, Xavier takes in your delicate features, the moonlight casting gentle shadows across your skin. There’s a gentleness in your expression, a kindness that calls to something deep inside him, urging him to break free from the chains of his past.

Resentment quietly grows within him—resentment towards Mai for holding him back and towards himself for continuing to allow it. It intensifies as he feels Mai's touch, leaving an unwanted warmth on his skin. He grits his teeth, fighting the urge to push her away, wondering why he can't simply do it.

How can he explain the weight of his commitment to Mai? The centuries of devotion, the promises made and broken, the tangled web of obligation and misplaced love that binds him to her? You might not understand the burden of an immortal’s loyalties, how time can distort even the purest intentions.

Yet, as he looks at your beautiful face, illuminated by the city's soft glow, he feels a part of himself awakening, longing for the freedom and happiness he's denied himself for so long.

Silently, you wish the patrol minutes would disappear so you can slip away, grab some drinks, and lose yourself in your usual club dancing sessions with Sylus.

As if he senses your thoughts, Sylus’s ringtone cuts through your rising irritation. You exhale in relief at the sight of his smiling face lighting up the screen.

"Hey you," you greet cheerfully, your voice soft with affection. "I was just thinking about you."

On the other end, his rich, velvety chuckle sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. "Really? Well, I'm flattered. And here I was thinking you might be distracted by the usual suspects," he teases, his playful tone carrying a knowing edge that hints he’s aware of the situation around you.

After a pause, you can almost see him raking his hand through his messy silver hair, a thoughtful smile on his handsome face as he continues, "But listen, we're still on for Neon Paradise later. The drinks are on me, and you can vent all you want." You smile softly, touched by his concern, knowing he reserves it for only a very select few.

Meanwhile, Mai is fully conscious that her boyfriend is on the other end of the line, yet she remains unruffled, confident in her claim on Sylus and dismissing the connection between you and him as nothing more than friendship. Instead, she inches closer to Xavier, her fingers idly tracing patterns on his arm as a flirtatious grin tugs at her lips. However, her attempts fall flat—Xavier clings to every word you say, his gaze fixed on your smile as he listens to Sylus's next remark.

"See you soon, then," Sylus says, his voice low and warm. "And don't worry about them, sweetheart. They’ll likely be too wrapped up in their own drama to bother you."

After hanging up, you shift your attention back to your duties. But when you glance up, you notice something odd—Xavier is staring at you, his eyes narrowed, as if trying to decipher something. Before you can ask if he needs anything, he looks away, his expression unreadable.

Observing Mai clinging to him like a needy vine floods you with a surge of frustration. Her manicured nails dig into his bicep, leaving crescent-shaped marks as she molds herself against him. The way she arches her head back to laugh at her own joke, her silky hair cascading over her shoulders, makes your blood boil.

It’s painfully clear that Xavier is merely enduring her touch; his body remains stiff and unresponsive beneath her wandering hands. The forced smile on his handsome face never reaches his eyes, which stay distant and unfocused, as if he’s trying to block her out. Yet he doesn’t pull away, held in place by some deep-rooted sense of duty.

As the patrol drags on, the tension between you and Xavier becomes almost palpable, distorting the very air around you. You find yourself hyper-aware of every subtle movement—the way his muscles shift under his uniform as he walks, the slight furrow in his silver brows as he scans the horizon for threats. Each accidental meeting of your eyes sends a jolt of electricity through your veins, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you share and the ache of its current state.

Unfortunately, your car is still in the shop, so you'll have to ride with Mai. Just as you're about to mention it, Xavier gently intercepts your elbow, guiding you away from Mai and towards his sleek, black car parked nearby. His touch is almost reverent, light as a feather, as if he's worried that too much pressure might make you vanish. Beneath his usual calm demeanor, a nervous energy buzzes, and his fingers tremble slightly against your skin.

"I can give you a ride," he murmurs softly, his deep blue eyes searching yours intently. "If you'd like, of course. No pressure." His gaze briefly flicks to Mai, who watches with a set jaw and pursed lips, before returning to you. In his expression, there's a silent plea—a desperate hope that you'll accept his olive branch, however small it may be.

Mai’s striking amethyst eyes narrow dangerously as she observes Xavier leading you away. Her nails dig into her palms while she clenches her fist, barely containing her fury.

"You can’t be serious, Xavier," she hisses through clenched teeth, her melodious voice dripping with venom. "After everything we've been through, you’re just going to leave me behind for her?" Her gaze darts towards you, her lip curling in pure disdain.

Xavier doesn't even spare her another look, his focus remaining entirely on you. He opens the passenger door with slow, deliberate movements. "I'm not leaving you behind, Mai. I'm just making sure she gets home safely. Besides, you drive her every night—why not take a break tonight?"

As the car speeds away, you study Xavier’s profile, trying to decipher the complex emotions fleeting across his handsome features.

"I don’t understand," you finally say, your voice soft but edged with frustration. "Why do you feel so trapped in this role? Surely, after all these years, Mai must realize that the five of you are not merely puppets to be controlled."

Xavier's grip on the steering wheel tightens until his knuckles go white, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. When he speaks, his voice is low and strained, as if each word is being pulled from him against his will.

"Mai was my first love... Back then, I was the crown prince of a planet known as Philos. I never knew that her very immortality was intertwined with the survival of our world. Her eternal heart was the source of Philos' prosperity and longevity—without it, the planet and everyone on it would perish."

A sorrowful smile briefly graces his features, and for a moment his youthful facade reveals decades of hidden pain. His voice is laced with deep sadness as he continues.

"I learned the truth on the eve of my coronation. I was expected to sacrifice her—to give up the only woman I ever loved for the sake of my kingdom. But I couldn’t do it. I turned my back on my kingdom, my family, my duties. I vowed to protect her, to keep her safe for all eternity."

“I never imagined she would change—grow colder and more distant with every lifetime, using me, using all of us, merely for her own amusement.”

His voice breaks as the words spill out in a rush. “I can’t bring myself to leave her or abandon her. I promised to protect her under any circumstance, even if she never loves me back.” His confession hangs in the air like a heavy burden, pressing down on you as you feel a profound ache in your heart, realizing the true extent of his devotion to Mai. It isn’t just about loyalty or duty; it’s the centuries-old love he still holds for her.

“And now here we are,” he murmurs softly, his eyes distant with the weight of his years. “I know I’m no longer happy with Mai. I feel it in the emptiness that washes over me when I’m with her and in the way my heart races when I’m near you. But letting go of this… feels like trying to shed my very skin. Mai is woven into the fabric of who I am.”

He turns to you, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “How can I walk away from something I’ve dedicated my entire life to? How do I break free from the chains of a promise made so long ago, especially when the one I vowed to protect no longer seems to appreciate it?”

Listening to his raw confession causes your heart to ache, even though you knew this story by heart—the pain and inner conflict etched into every line of his face make it all the more real. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you reach out and intertwine your fingers with his in a comforting gesture. “I understand, Xavier,” you say softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “Breaking away from that must feel impossible, like tearing a piece of your very soul away.”

“But you need to understand something too,” you continue, your voice quivering. “Watching you chained to someone who doesn’t truly appreciate you, who takes your devotion for granted, it breaks my heart.”

He gently squeezes your hand, marveling at how perfectly it fits in his larger one. A single tear escapes, trailing a glistening path down his cheek through the grime and sweat of battle.

“You’re right. I know you’re right,” he whispers hoarsely, his voice rough with emotion. “I should let her go, choose happiness instead of clinging to the remains of a love that died long ago.” His expression darkens as a storm of emotions plays across his face while he struggles for the right words. “But you must understand… Mai always kept me at arm’s length, even as I devoted myself entirely to her.” His voice cracks under the weight of centuries of unrequited love and frustration.

"I chased her across galaxies, fought off legions and ferocious beasts, all in the hope of winning her love. And for what? Hollow promises and brief moments of warmth that she would snatch away the instant I got too close." His tone drips with bitterness as his grip on your hand tightens almost painfully.

You listen in silence while Xavier releases years of pent-up emotion, your eyes soft with compassion. You let him speak without interruption, and instinctively, your free hand stokes his damp, drying hair away from his forehead as you take in the raw vulnerability etched into his profile.

With his voice cracking under the weight of his feelings and his eyes burning with both fury and sorrow, he continues, "She pulled me along like a puppet, keeping me suspended on a string—never fully committing, never loving me as I loved her. Yet, I stayed true, unable to escape the illusion of what we once had. What we could have been."

Xavier then takes a deep, shuddering breath and, in a gesture that tries to chase away a growing headache, rubs the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "There’s something else you should know about Mai… though I guess Sylus might have already mentioned it," he adds quietly as he pulls into the club and shifts the car into park, his voice laden with both shame and resentment. "She… she has others. Four of them, to be exact. Men who, like me, have devoted their lives to protecting her, to loving her."

He laughs bitterly—a laugh stripped of any humor. "All these years, and I never stood a chance. And she’s been with them all. Intimately. But me? I’ve never even tasted her lips, never felt her bare skin against mine..."

Your eyes widen in shock as you process Xavier's confession, your mouth falling open slightly. You shake your head in disbelief, your brow creasing as you struggle to understand it all.

"I… I don’t understand," you say softly, your voice quivering with both confusion and sympathy. "How is that even possible? How could anyone possibly resist you, Xavier?" You’re kind, brave, and handsome, and—your words falter as a blush rises on your cheeks, betraying the depth of your feelings.

Xavier’s breath catches, his eyes widening as he registers your words, a faint, endearing blush coloring his ears. He reaches out, his calloused fingers tenderly cupping your cheek, his thumb lightly tracing over your lower lip.

"You… you really think I’m handsome?" he asks in a hushed tone, his voice full of wonder. There is a raw vulnerability in his gaze, an honesty he seldom allows anyone to see. In that moment, his emotions laid bare, he appears almost youthful in his surprise and delight at your compliment.

"I... I don’t know what to say," he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. No one has said anything like that to me before. Not even Mai."

Slowly and hesitantly, you lift your hand to cover his, your voice quivering as you say, “Xavier, I want nothing more than to be the one who heals your wounds and shows you the love you deserve. It kills me to see you caught in a cycle of pain and unreturned devotion.”

Taking a trembling breath, you steel yourself for the next words. “But what happened that day… the day you chose Mai over me without a second thought… it cut deeper than any wound inflicted by a blade or a Wanderer. I know there’s a lot of history there, but our trust was so new and fragile; that moment shattered it completely.”

Xavier’s heart tightens painfully with each word, each syllable a reminder of the hurt he’s caused. He instinctively moves closer, desperate to hold you and beg for forgiveness. Yet he hesitates, haunted by the memory of the hurt in your eyes, and sinks back into his seat.

“I… I don’t expect your forgiveness,” he whispers, his voice rough with barely contained emotion. “What I did is unforgivable. I let my old loyalties cloud my judgment, betraying the one person who now means everything to me.”

You shake your head sorrowfully, tears glistening unshed in your eyes. “I’m so sorry, Xavier. Truly, I am. But I can’t keep exposing myself to this pain again and again.” After a deep exhale, you continue, “Sylus is waiting for me inside. We’re celebrating his latest championship win tonight.”

The mere mention of Sylus’s name sends a surge of possessive jealousy through Xavier. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening as he fights to remain composed.

He can picture it all too clearly—Sylus’s roguish grin, his predatory gaze raking over your curves, the way he would pull you close, his strong hands splayed possessively across your lower back.

Xavier’s imagination conjures scenes of Sylus sweeping you off your feet, presenting you with the world on a silver platter. Although he might claim that his feelings for you are purely platonic, it’s unmistakable in his eyes—the reverence with which he regards you. And in his mind, he can easily envision Mai being dismissed in Sylus’s relentless pursuit of you.

“I…I should go,” you whisper, your hand already reaching for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.”

Xavier exhales deeply, torn by conflicting impulses. Every part of him urges him to reach out, to grab you and pull you back, to assert are meant to belong to him. Yet, the last remnants of his honor and duty restrain him, leaving him to watch in silent anguish as you walk away, what remains of his heart shattering into pieces.

Sylus steps out of the club, leaning casually against the worn wooden frame with a cigarette dangling languidly from his lips. His sharp red eyes narrow as they fix on you, and a mischievous smirk plays at the edge of his mouth. Taking a long drag, he exhales slowly and deliberately, watching your approach with clear amusement.

"Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in," he purrs, his voice low and smooth, a mix of honey laced with venom.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight, little dove?”

For a brief moment, his gaze flickers toward Xavier, who sits stiffly in the car—a shadow of something dark passing over his face before being replaced by his usual relaxed confidence as Sylus turns his attention back to you.

As you step inside and settle into a seat, you say, "Honestly, I don’t get what you see in her." Without missing a beat, Sylus moves into the booth beside you. His warm, muscular thigh grazes yours as he chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that sends a shiver down your spine, and playfully tousles your hair.

"I think it’s all part of her charm," he replies with a wink, his gleaming red eyes alight with mischief and something darker, the truth lying within. 

As the night deepens, Sylus regales you with tales of his recent victories, his booming laughter echoing through the crowded bar. Keeping you close, his strong arm drapes around your shoulder while he leans in to whisper gossip about the couple a few tables away. The closeness sends a thrill through you, even as a small part of you craves an entirely different set of arms.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely hear Sylus calling out until he waves a hand in front of your face, concern etched in his furrowed brows. "Hey, space cadet, where’d you go?" he asks, his eyes locking on yours as they catch the distant look settling over your features.

"Sy, do you think people can change?" you blurt out, the weight of the question pressing on your chest. Neon lights flicker overhead, bathing Sylus’s pensive face in shifting hues. He takes a long sip from his drink, pondering before setting the glass down with a soft clink.

"Change is possible," he finally says in a low, measured tone. "But it's rare. And it always comes down to choice, sweetheart—a choice that must be made over and over." His piercing gaze meets yours, filled with a mix of sympathy and an indefinable, harder truth.

"When you’ve lived as long as Xavier and I have, survival turns into instinct. It forces you down paths you might never have chosen willingly. Our lives have always revolved around someone else’s orbit," Sylus continues, his voice heavy with a tired wisdom that contrasts with his usual bravado.

His words hang in the air between you, a poignant reminder of the intricate web of relationships and loyalties that bind the inhabitants of Linkon City. In that moment, you feel a surge of empathy not only for Sylus and Xavier but also for Zayne, Rafayel, and Caleb—all caught in the chaos of Mai’s tangled world.

As Sylus leans in, his lips graze your ear as he murmurs in a soft, husky murmur, “Don't forget, I've known that stubborn fool for centuries. Mai’s grip is deep, rooted over countless lifetimes. Escaping it won’t happen overnight.” He exhales deeply, his sigh vibrating through his chest as his head rests against yours. “But I promise you this – whatever he feels for you is genuine. It’s strong enough to make him question everything he once believed.”

Your eyes widen as a spark of hope ignites within them at his reassuring words. You bite your lower lip—a nervous habit you’ve never quite shaken—as you absorb the meaning of his message.

On the dance floor, he pulls you close, one strong hand resting along the small of your back as he guides you through the pulsing crowd. His other hand clasps yours, his calloused fingers interlocking with your own. With practiced confidence, he moves his muscular frame in perfect harmony with the driving beat, your bodies swaying together as one. The warmth of his body presses against yours, his firm chest and sculpted thighs conforming to your curves.

Bending in once more, he brushes his lips against your ear, his heated breath sending shivers down your spine. “You look beautiful tonight, little bird,” he murmurs, his deep voice nearly drowned out by the pounding bass. “I’m the luckiest man here.”

You flush at the compliment, your heart fluttering wildly. Even though you try to dismiss it as mere charm—just Sylus being Sylus—you can’t help but feel the comforting heat of his words spreading through you.

As the music slows, Sylus’s gentle hands pull you even closer to his chest. Your breathing steadies as you lean into him, the rush of adrenaline giving way to a tender, enveloping comfort.

“Feeling any better?” he asks softly, his warm breath caressing your ear as his arms hold you securely.

“Yes,” you reply quietly, drawing nearer. Despite the lingering chill on your skin and the faint ache in your heart, you find contentment in this moment with him. Sylus has been your steadfast comfort since childhood—the one who always holds you close when your world is falling apart.

He guides you with effortless expertise, each step perfectly synchronized with your own. The rest of the world fades away until only the two of you remain, swaying together on the crowded dance floor. You feel his warm breath near your ear and his lips lightly graze your skin as he sings along with the music.

After a while, Sylus murmurs, “I’m glad,” his voice sending pleasant shivers throughout your body. “I hate to see you upset, especially over him.” There’s a subtle tone in his words—perhaps a hint of jealousy, or maybe protectiveness—as he mentions Xavier.

Sylus’s thumb softly caresses your lower back as he holds you close, a simple gesture that feels incredibly soothing. He plants a gentle kiss on your temple, his lips barely grazing your skin. “But I get why you’re drawn to him. Really, who wouldn’t be attracted by his mysterious vibe, his unwavering devotion, and his protective nature? I’ve seen firsthand how amazing he can be when he channels that passion onto someone,” he remarks, drawing you in closer as his strong arms encircle your waist while you both sway to the rhythm of the music.

You laugh quietly, shaking your head in disbelief at Sylus’s unexpected praise for Xavier. “Well, well, well… aren’t you full of surprises? I never thought I’d hear you singing the praises of our resident brooding hero,” you tease, your eyes twinkling with amusement as they meet his. “Careful, Sylus, keep talking like that and I might start to think you have a thing for him yourself.”

Sylus throws his head back, laughing with a rich, melodious sound that seems to fill the entire room. “Oh, you know me too well, dove. I admire beauty and skill equally, no matter the gender,” he jests, winking playfully with mischief dancing in his crimson eyes. “Besides, everyone knows the real magic happens when opposites attract. And what could be more opposite than a centuries-old, brooding warrior and a quirky, lovable nerd like you?”

Your cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink at his teasing words, and you lower your gaze shyly as a small smile plays on your lips. “Flatterer,” you murmur, but there’s a clear note of pleasure in your voice. “And hey, I prefer ‘adorably geeky’ myself.”

As the next song starts, Sylus pulls you even closer, his strong hands resting on the small of your back. He gazes down at you, his red eyes smoldering with an intensity that sets your heart racing. “Are you having a good time?"

You nod, a soft smile touching your lips as you rest your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is reassuring, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “I am,” you admit softly. “But I think I should probably head home soon—it’s getting late.”

Sylus tightens his hold just a bit, his thumb tracing tiny circles over your lower back. “So soon? The night’s still young,” he purrs his warm breath tickling your ear.

You playfully swat at his chest, your cheeks flushing with both amusement and perhaps a hint of something deeper. “Okay, you flirt! Enough already,” you tease, your voice light and musical. “I swear, you’re incorrigible sometimes.”

Taking a small step back to create some space between you, your hand lingers on his arm, fingers curling around the firm muscle beneath his shirt sleeve. “Now, are you going to be a gentleman and give me a ride home, or do I need to call a cab?” Your eyes sparkle with mischief, daring him to refuse.

Sylus chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound resonating from his broad chest. His red eyes dance with playful impishness as he looks down at you, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face. “A gentleman? Me?” He places a hand over his heart in pretend offense, feigning hurt. “You wound me. Everyone knows I’m anything but a gentleman.”

Yet despite his teasing tone, his expression softens and genuine warmth fills his gaze as he takes in your blushing cheeks and sparkling eyes. “But for you, I suppose I can make an exception.” He reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering ever so gently. “Of course I’ll give you a ride home.”

You beam at him, your heart fluttering at his tender touch and the warmth in his eyes. “You’re not so bad for a notorious criminal mastermind,” you tease, your voice soft and playful.

As Sylus leads you out of the club, the cool night air caresses your skin, sending shivers and raising goosebumps along your arms. You shiver slightly, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. Noticing immediately, Sylus removes his leather jacket and silently drapes it over your shoulders. The jacket still carries the warmth of his body heat, along with the subtle scent of his cologne—rich, spicy, and undeniably masculine.

You take a deep breath, savoring his scent as you nestle into his jacket. The supple, worn leather fits you perfectly despite the size difference. "Thank you," you murmur, looking up with a grateful smile. "See. Always the gentleman, even when you try to hide it."

Sylus chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he guides you towards his sleek black motorcycle parked nearby. "Don't spread it around, dove. I have a reputation to maintain.”

As you settle onto the back of his bike, the engine's vibrations pulse through you, and you press against his broad back, feeling the warmth through his shirt. “Hold on tight,” Sylus calls over his shoulder, his voice barely audible above the roaring engine. Instantly, you wrap your arms snugly around his waist, your fingers intertwining just below his navel. When he revs the throttle, the bike lurches forward, pressing you firmly against him, while the wind whips through your hair and the neon-lit city blurs into a vibrant mosaic around you.

Sylus walks you to your door, his presence a comforting warmth against the cool night air. At your entrance, he turns to face you, his expression unusually earnest. “You know I’m always here for you, no matter what,” he says softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and gently brush away a stray tear you hadn’t noticed. “You’re stronger than you think. Never forget that.”

He leans in and plants a kiss on your forehead, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When they open again, his gaze holds a tenderness that takes your breath away. “Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. No matter when or where—I’ll come running.”

You giggle softly, playfully tapping his nose. “Oh, come on, spare me the sappy lines! You’re supposed to be this tough crime lord, not the hero of a cheesy romance novel.”

Yet, you can’t help but lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed briefly as you bask in the gentleness of his caress. When you open them again, you gaze up at him through damp lashes, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. “I promise,” you whisper, your teasing tone softening with emotion. “And thank you, Sylus. For everything. Your friendship… it means the world to me.”

Sylus’s expression softens even further as a rare vulnerability shimmers in his crimson eyes while he looks down at you. He gently cups your face, his thumb wiping away another tear that escapes. “Hey now, none of that,” he murmurs in a low, tender voice. “I can’t stand to see those beautiful eyes filled with tears.”

He draws you into a close embrace, one hand gently holding the back of your head as he presses you against his strong chest. You sense the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his breath. “Your friendship means the world to me too. More than you could ever imagine,” he murmurs.

After a long, lingering moment, he steps back with a mischievous grin lighting up his handsome face, running a hand through his tousled silver hair. “Alright, alright, I suppose I should let you get home before Xavier shows up with that sword of his,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

He strides over to his parked motorcycle and, with smooth ease, swings a leg over the seat. “Same time tomorrow for another round of our game night?” he inquires, casting a cheeky glance back over his shoulder.

You beam and nod in agreement. “Do you really have to ask?” you retort playfully. Game nights with Sylus are always a highlight—filled with good-natured competition, playful banter, and plenty of laughter. They provide a welcome escape from the burdens of the city, a chance to simply enjoy each other’s company.

Sylus chuckles, his laughter rich and warm in the cool night air. “That's my girl,” he says affectionately, reaching out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers hover briefly, delicately brushing your cheek in a featherlight caress.

Then, with a knowing wink, he fires up the engine of his motorcycle. “Until tomorrow then, dove. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he jokes, his voice laced with tender humor.

As Sylus vanishes into the night, you stand alone on the sidewalk, the cool breeze tousling your hair as your thoughts start to wander toward Xavier. The way he looked at you tonight and the vulnerability he shared felt different—as if the tension between you had reached a whole new level.

Once inside, you slip into a soft, oversized t-shirt that barely brushes your thighs and settle into bed, drawing the covers snugly up to your chin. You close your eyes, letting the darkness envelope you like a warm cocoon. Gradually, as the gentle hum of the city outside mingles with the steady beat of your heart, you drift off into sleep, Xavier swirling through your dreams amid fleeting flashes of crimson and bursts of color and shape.

Hidden in the dim shadows of an alley across the street, Xavier watches as Sylus’s motorcycle vanishes into the distance. His fists clench tightly, anger and frustration bubbling inside him. He’s faced innumerable battles, fought off terrifying Wanderers, and escaped countless perils—but this irrational jealousy is something altogether different, something he finds impossible to control.

Earlier that night, he had spent hours silently watching you and Sylus at the bar. As the evening wore on, witnessing the two of you laughing together—so effortlessly at ease—felt like a twisting knife in his gut. Every time Sylus touched you, every intimate gesture exchanged between you sparked a fierce possessiveness within him.

He recalls watching you dance together, your bodies moving in flawless harmony with Sylus holding you impossibly close. Every shared glance, every tender touch, and each time that bastard’s thumb brushed against the small of your back sent his nerves into overdrive. In that moment, he longed to rush over, tear you from Sylus’s embrace, and hold you in his arms forever.But he remained frozen, helplessly watching as you danced with the man who had been a constant in your life for years.

Later, as Sylus escorted you to your door, Xavier trailed at a discreet distance, absorbing each detail of your conversation on the sidewalk. He noted the way Sylus tenderly touched your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek; he saw the softness in your eyes as you looked up at him, and the silent gasp that escaped your lips when his thumb grazed your skin.

Now, his anger threatens to boil over as he watches Sylus fade into the night. He feels an overwhelming urge to scream and lash out at a universe that’s placed him in this impossible situation. He wants nothing more than to storm into your apartment, fall to his knees, and beg you for another chance. But he knows he can’t—he has no right to ask for that when he’s still entangled with Mai.

Jealousy has long been a familiar companion in Xavier’s long existence, particularly regarding the bond between Mai and Sylus—a connection he could never quite replicate, no matter how hard he tried to grow closer to her. Yet, as potent as his envy toward Mai and Sylus has always been, nothing compares to the monstrous jealousy that overwhelmed him watching you and Sylus together tonight. Your playful banter, your shared history, and the evident mutual attraction all made him feel like an outsider, desperate to prove he was worthy of your love.

His thoughts then drift to Mai, wondering how she remains oblivious to Sylus’s genuine feelings for you. How can someone be so blind to such blatant affection?

Once, Mai had been a passionate and caring spirit, eager to explore the galaxy and experience new emotions. But over time, she had grown increasingly cold and detached, able only to feel fleeting infatuations or mere convenience. Has she become so hardened that she fails to recognize true love when it stands right before her? Or worse, has she grown so callous that she deliberately denies it?

Xavier lets out a heavy sigh, pushing these tumultuous thoughts aside as he gazes at your bedroom window, his mind awash with conflicting emotions. Now, more than ever, he craves the catharsis that only physical exertion can bring, convinced that the strain of sweat and effort might temporarily silence the chaos within. With that desperate hope in his heart, he makes his way to the gym, silently begging any force that might listen for a measure of relief.

He is immediately met with both admiring glances and cautious stares. His reputation has spread far and wide—every nod, every secretive look, even the giggles from groups of girls serve as constant reminders of who he’s become and how far he’s fallen.

Ignoring the admiring looks and hushed whispers, he strides confidently toward the weights area, where the steady clink of metal and muffled grunts set the background rhythm. Time seems to slip away as he pours his anguish and frustration into every lift.

His muscles burn, his breathing turns ragged, and sweat streams down his face, yet he doesn’t stop. He can’t—until he’s exhausted himself completely.

By the time he finally pauses, the gym is closing and his body trembles with fatigue. Just as he’s about to leave, he spots someone standing in the doorway, silently watching him.

“What are you doing here, Xavier?” Mai asks, her tone frosty—clearly still upset about him hurrying off to give you a ride—but beneath that coldness lies a hint of vulnerability, perhaps even fear.

Xavier freezes mid-rep, his eyes involuntarily locking with Mai’s penetrating stare. In that brief moment, everything else seems to fade as his focus narrows solely on the woman before him.

“Just going through the motions,” he rasps, his voice rough as he struggles to hide how unsettled her closeness makes him feel.

Mai rolls her amethyst eyes, unimpressed by his cryptic response. Her mouth twists into a sneer, and her icy demeanor crackles in the already charged atmosphere of the gym. “How dramatic,” she drawls sarcastically, her voice sharp as a knife. “Still trying to play the tragic hero, I see.”

Xavier clenches his jaw, feeling the weight of her disdain crashing over him like a tidal wave. Instead of reacting with anger, he finds himself overwhelmed by a surge of sorrow—a testament to how deeply her influence has seeped into him. Despite everything, he still yearns for her approval, her love.

Mai isn’t finished. She steps closer until her presence feels almost suffocating. “Where’s your new pet, Xav? Is she still mad that you chose little ol’ me?” Her beautiful features twist into a mocking pout as she releases a soft snort filled with scorn.

The mention of you strikes Xavier like a blow to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. He finds himself unable to speak, his voice entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. Instead, he relinquishes his grip on the weight, letting it fall with a resounding clang that echoes through the gym.

Without another word, he turns sharply on his heel and storms out, his silver hair whipping around, leaving Mai behind in the wake of his pain.

As he walks down the hallway, his thoughts whirl chaotically like leaves caught in a hurricane. Memories of you—his beloved pet, as Mai so cruelly named you—flood his mind, igniting a desperate longing that claws at his insides. The urge to see you, to feel you safe in his arms, becomes almost unbearable, driving him forward with renewed urgency.

Alone in his apartment, Xavier can no longer contain the torrent of emotions within him. He collapses to his knees, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shake with silent sobs. The pain he had fought to suppress surges like a tidal wave, overwhelming him completely.

Hours pass before the storm inside him finally subsides, leaving behind a raw vulnerability he has never before allowed. Eventually, exhaustion claims him, and he slips into a fitful sleep on the cold, hard floor. When he wakes the following morning, he remains there, the harsh reality of his situation seeping back into his consciousness like poison.

A date at Meow’s Cafe—with its charming little cats playfully scampering about—should be a comforting escape. Yet, without Xavier by your side for the first time, everything feels out of place. The once delightful sound of kitten mews has become grating, and the formerly vibrant energy now seems flat and lifeless.

Opposite you sits a man named Ash, his dark, wavy hair framing a chiseled jawline and a mischievous smile that hints at both excitement and chaos.

You're torn between the magnetic pull of his lingering caresses and the persistent ache of missing Xavier. Every look and every flirtatious cue from Ash intensifies your inner conflict, stirring up a guilt you never expected when you agreed Tara could set you two up.

With unsteady legs, you manage to slip away from the table, mumbling an excuse about feeling unwell. In the refuge of a dimly lit bathroom, you battle to regain your composure, trying to hush the torrent of memories threatening to overwhelm you. Just as you believe you’ve found some balance, the door creaks open and a shadow falls across the floor. Before you can react, a warm presence surrounds you—a familiar pair of hands entwining with yours. You freeze as recognition washes over you like a shock of cold water.

“Xavier,” you croak, surprise and confusion warring within you. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close until your bodies are pressed together, his nose softly nuzzling your neck. The familiar scent that once brought comfort now floods your senses, evoking a storm of longing and pain.

He murmurs your name against your skin like a sacred incantation, his grip faltering momentarily before steadying as he continues, “I couldn’t help but notice… you and…” His words are laden with hurt, jealousy, and a tinge of possessiveness.

Xavier had come to Meow’s Cafe to set up a reservation for the two of you for an upcoming game night, hoping to revive your weekly tradition. You hadn’t even noticed his arrival, being too wrapped up with the man before you—the one audacious enough to trail his fingers along your arm as though claiming you, as if every inch of your skin weren’t meant solely for Xavier.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he visibly struggles to rein in his emotions, his chest rising and falling with the effort. “I—I don't want to upset you or interfere… but it’s killing me to see you with him.” His voice is barely above a whisper, yet the desperate longing in his eyes makes your heart ache.

Tears sting your eyes as you attempt to explain, “Xavier, I… I just wanted to move on for a while, to forget about everything. I never meant to hurt you…”

Xavier studies you intently, eyes carefully scanning your face as he searches for the right words. Finally, his voice soft with both longing and hope, he asks, “What can I do to earn your forgiveness?” His breath, warm and inviting, brushes against your ear as he moves closer. A slight tremor runs through you at his touch, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath catches as his gentle exhalations trace a path down your neck, his movements so slow and deliberate they seem almost torturous. “I... I don't know,” you reply in a soft, uncertain tone. Yet, despite your hesitations and the fear of baring yourself completely to him, you don’t pull away. Instead, you allow him to continue his exploration, his hands and lips mapping over you. Your heart races as the inner conflict between desire and doubt rages on.

Xavier draws back just enough to lock eyes with you—those captivating blue depths brimming with both adoration and a raw, desperate yearning. Sensing the uncertainty in your expression yet catching the fleeting glimmer of longing that still burns within you, he brushes a stray lock of hair aside, exposing the tender skin of your neck. With a low growl, he leans in; his lips and teeth lightly graze your skin, sparking heat deep in your core as your body betrays you, your panties growing damp with the rush of arousal as you squirm uncomfortably.

“You’re acting as if you don’t crave me just as much as I crave you…” Xavier whispers, his lips moving lower, teeth biting down on your collarbone, adding just enough pressure to leave a mark. A soft moan escapes from deep within you, your body responding to his touch instinctively.

“And I know that’s a lie,” he continues, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as he places gentle kisses along the column of your throat. His actions elicit an involuntary response from you, your body arching toward him, desperately seeking more contact.

“And how do you know it’s a lie?” you mumble defiantly, keeping your gaze trained on the bathroom wall as you resist the urge to wrap your arms around him. Xavier’s response is a low chuckle that sends shivers down your spine, followed by the sensation of a tender nip to your ear as his tongue skims the shell. “Because every time we touch, your body betrays you,” he whispers, the gentle sound sending a thrill straight through you, the rush heady and exhilarating.

Looking into those beautiful eyes filled with both passion and pleading, a twinge of compassion stirs within you. "Xavier, I—" you begin, only to be interrupted by a searing kiss as his fingers tangle in your hair, drawing you impossibly close, as though he's trying to merge your very souls together.

As the kiss deepens, your resistance crumbles bit by bit, replaced by an overwhelming need for more. Without thinking, your hands slip under his shirt, grasping the bare skin of his hips as you pull him closer. Xavier groans softly in response, his grip on your hair intensifying almost painfully.

Eventually, Xavier pulls away, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he regards you with a blend of hunger and adoration. Instead of going in for another kiss, his hands begin to explore your body slowly and tenderly. His fingers graze the underside of your breasts and trail down your arms, sending ripples of goosebumps along your skin. Each soft, reverent touch reinforces the undeniable effect he has over you. Soft moans escape you as he finally cups your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, and you arch into his touch, your breath quickening. With a smirk, he brushes his lips near your ear and whispers, "See how your body reacts to my touch? Hear how it sings for me? It knows it was made just for me.”

Unable to refute the truth of his words, you nod in silent agreement; your body craves him far too deeply to fight it any longer. Without a second thought, you reach for him again, pulling him into a deeper, more consuming kiss. Xavier responds eagerly, his hands roaming to cup your ass, lifting you and pressing you against the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as you grind against him, feeling the hard evidence of his desire pressing against your core. The friction sends a surge of pleasure through you, prompting another moan as your body begs for more.

In that achingly perfect moment, you feel your defenses melting away. Your heart begins to open up to the possibility that this could really work—that perhaps the chasm between you might one day be mended.

But when Xavier finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath, his voice—barely above a whisper—weighs heavily, shattering the bliss as reality crashes back. "If I could go back... If I had to choose between saving you and Mai again, I'd choose you every time... I truly mean it."

His eyes search your face for any trace of forgiveness or belief, yet all they encounter is a deep, radiant sadness. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks; he exhales a trembling sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yes, you really would," you whisper, your voice burdened with heartbreak.

Xavier watches as you slowly disentangle yourself from his embrace and straighten up, your eyes now filled with determination intertwined with overwhelming sorrow. He reaches out, desperate to pull you back into his arms, but you gently twist away, never breaking eye contact. With one final, shattered look, you turn on your heel and walk away, your date following closely behind.

In the soft glow of your bedroom, moonlight casts subtle shadows over you and Ash as his hands begin their exploratory journey, slipping beneath your shirt to caress your nipples. You close your eyes, desperately trying to envision Xavier’s touch instead—recalling the way he had caressed you with such reverence and hunger just hours ago.

Yet, as much as you lose yourself, the contrast between the two becomes painfully clear. Ash's touch is rougher and more insistent, making it difficult for your mind to maintain the illusion. Even as Xavier’s presence swirls in your thoughts, Ash's hands continue their exploration; his fingers eventually dipping inside you. You stifle a moan in a futile effort to mute the surge of pleasure, only to be overwhelmed by embarrassment when, in the heat of the moment, you whisper Xavier’s name. The abrupt halt of his movements tells you that Ash has heard it too, filling the room with an uncomfortable silence.

Your fingers begin tracing gentle patterns on his skin, a silent attempt to express the apologies you cannot voice. When you look up at him, his eyes reveal a complex blend of understanding and disappointment—a look that stings with guilt. Taking a deep breath, he cradles your face in his hand and says softly, "It’s okay. Moving on isn’t easy, especially when you care so deeply." He leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead before stepping back.

"But I can’t be your rebound or a stand-in for him. We both deserve something better." His words, laced with pain, serve as a stark reminder of the selfishness behind your actions. Helping you to your feet, his hands linger around yours in a comforting squeeze. "Keep your chin up—it gets easier, I promise." With a small, sorrowful smile, he turns and walks out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts and lingering regrets.

The apartment falls silent except for the persistent buzz of a phone. Reluctantly, you answer it to see Xavier’s face appear on the screen. Choosing to keep the camera off, you watch him with a heavy heart, noting how his blue eyes shimmer with a blend of jealousy and desire.

Motivated by these emotions, Xavier begins to undress, gradually revealing his lean, muscular body in slow, deliberate movements crafted to ignite your longing and make you rue your choices from tonight.

He finds it hard to believe that after he poured his heart out to you, you’d end up with another man. He had hoped that confessing about Mai would shift something between you, but instead, it seems to have pushed you even further away. Determined, he starts to illustrate a vivid picture of what might have been if you had chosen him.

Lying on his bed, his hand wraps around his already erect cock, gently stroking it as he lets out a sigh while locking eyes with you through the screen. His breathing becomes heavier, his grip tighter, and for a breathless moment, he imagines you beneath him—screaming out his name as he fucks the memory of Ash from your mind entirely.

In a low, gravelly tone filled with raw desire, he asks, "Did you really think bringing another man home would erase me from your mind? Did you truly believe he could make you feel anything resembling what I make you feel?"He punctuates each question with a rough thrust of his hand, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the air.

Smirking, he continues his seductive performance, his strong hand expertly working his dick, each stroke eliciting a quiet moan from his lips. "Regardless," he murmurs. "I'll make sure you regret your decision."

He isn’t about to let you forget what you missed tonight, and he intends to make you regret every lost moment. "Did you think of me while his hands touched you?" he asks in a low, husky tone. "Did you imagine it was my fingers inside you, my lips on your skin?"

He pauses, his hand gradually coming to a stop as he gazes at you through the camera, his eyes burning with intensity. "Because I thought of you," he murmurs. "I imagined how incredible it would feel to have you beneath me, your legs wrapped around my waist while I fucked you into the mattress."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he exhales slowly and resumes his slow strokes. "I imagined how sweet your pussy would taste, how perfectly tight you would feel around my cock." Pausing again, his eyes seem to lock on yours as he asks, "Do you want to see what you missed?"

Even though you despise that you’re yielding so readily to your desires, you simply can’t stop. Your attention remains fixated on Xavier, unable to look away—even though you know that what is about to unfold might shatter you completely. A soft moan escapes you as pleasure surges through you, each stroking movement pushing you ever closer to the brink.

Xavier’s eyes narrow, as if sensing your reaction, and his grip tightens on his on his cock as he meets your gaze through the screen—a potent blend of lust and satisfaction playing across his face. "You like watching me, don’t you, angel?" he says, his teasing question sending a thrill down your spine. "Don’t you wish your delicate fingers were wrapped around me instead?"

His words ignite another wave of desire within you, and even though he can’t you, you eagerly nod, your eyes locked on his cock as it moves in and out of his grasp. Xavier quickens his pace, pre-cum flowing freely as his body responds to the realization that he’s turning you on.

“I wish I could feel your mouth around me, your tongue licking my cock." He pauses as he imagines the sensation. "I want to fuck your face, to feel your lips wrapped around me as I come down your throat.” His words, low and husky, mix with ragged breaths as he continues pleasuring himself.

Meeting your eyes again through the screen, he asks softly, "Do… do you want that, angel? Do you want me to fuck your face?" You nod once more, almost wishing he could see you, as your fingers move faster inside you while you vividly imagine the feeling of his cock in your mouth and his cum on your lips.

"Fuck," he groans again, his hand speeding up its rhythm. "I’m going to come soon, angel. Do you want to watch me come for you?"

You nod with a soft whimper, your fingers quickening their pace as you watch him. His breathing grows ragged, his hand moving faster and faster on his cock until finally, he releases a low groan as he comes, his cum spurting out and landing on his stomach, with some splattering onto the camera. You watch in awe as he continues to stroke himself, drawing out every last drop from his body.

You let out a soft cry as you watch him, your fingers moving faster and faster inside you until you find your own release. You moan softly, your body shuddering as pleasure surges through you. As the intensity subsides, you let out a sigh, withdrawing your fingers from your body and lying back on the bed.

As he finishes, he gazes into the camera, meeting your eyes. “I hope you came for me, angel,” he says with satisfaction in his tone. “I hope it's always for me.” He pauses, maintaining eye contact. “Goodnight, my heart,” he whispers before the screen goes dark.

You sit there, feeling a twinge of guilt. You realize you should have stopped him, should have said no. But you didn't. Now, you're left to deal with the aftermath. You can't help but wonder what might have happened if you had been with him tonight. Would he have fucked you into the mattress like he said? Would he have let you taste him? 

You know these thoughts will linger for a while, and eventually, you'll have to confront him again. You'll need to look him in the eye and act as if nothing occurred. But you know it won't be easy; pretending you didn't just watch him pleasure himself, that you didn’t just let him arouse you, will be challenging.

You're aware that you're in a complicated situation, but you can't help what you feel. You're drawn to him, and you don't know how to break free. Eventually, you'll succumb to your desires and let him have his way with you. You’ll let him fuck you into every mattress in Linkon if he wants, let him fill your mouth with his cock. You’ll let him do whatever he wants to you. Because deep down, you belong to him. You're his angel. And you always will be.

You're instantly relieved when your car finally returns from the shop—thank goodness you won't have to suffer another ride with Xavier after last night’s debacle, or maybe even worse, with Mai.

But that relief evaporates the moment you arrive at work and see Xavier confidently striding toward you. Smoothly, he brushes your hair back and leans in close, whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself last night? I know I did,” his warm smile laced with mischief.

He gently lifts your chin to tilt your face, his voice soft as he admits, “It’s never felt that good… Not even at the thought of Mai.” Startled, you let out a surprised squeak, your cheeks burning as you try to pull away. “Xavier!” you whisper, your voice trembling. Words fail you as you’re torn between the impulse to slap him and the overwhelming desire to kiss him.

Xavier lets out a soft chuckle as his eyes glisten with amusement. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs in a low, husky tone. “I know you came for me—I could hear it.” He pauses briefly, then continues, “Even though I couldn’t see you, I could hear your little whimpers and moans, sense the rhythm of your breathing.” His eyes lock onto yours as he adds, “And I could hear the way your fingers moved inside you.” Lowering his voice even further, he confides, “I could hear how wet you were for me.”

Overwhelmed, you blush deeper, darting your eyes around the parking lot to ensure no one is watching. “Xavier,” you hiss, trying once more to free yourself from his grip. “Stop it.” You find it hard to believe he’s speaking these things, that he knows exactly what transpired last night—and you silently berate yourself for not having muted the audio when you turned off your camera.

Xavier chuckles again, his smile broadening. “Don’t be embarrassed…” he whispers. “I loved it. I loved the sounds you made, I loved the way you came undone for me.” He leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a near-private murmur as he adds, “I want to feel you come for me next time, feel your tight little pussy squeezing my cock…”

You gasp, your eyes widening in shock. “Xavier!” you manage, urgency coloring your whisper. “Behave yourself while we’re at work.” You attempt to pull away, but he holds you firmly in place.

With a soft laugh, his smile growing even more knowing, he murmurs, “I’m only speaking the truth. You know I’m right. You know that only I can make you feel that way.” Leaning in so that his breath warms your ear, he murmurs, “You know that you want me to fuck you into the mattress.”

You blush even harder, your heart pounding in your chest. You can’t believe what he’s saying to you, can’t believe that he’s being so bold. 

But at the same time, you can’t deny the way your body is reacting to his words... You can’t deny the way you’re getting wetter and wetter with every filthy syllable. The desire is undeniable; you want him more than you ever thought possible.

Xavier pulls back slightly, locking his eyes with yours once more as he whispers, “I know you do.” After a pause that seems to stretch forever, he leans in close again, his voice soft and earnest as he confesses, “I want you too, angel. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Reaching out, he takes your hand and places it on his cock, his voice low and urgent: “Feel how hard I am for you? How much I want you, need you…”

You gasp, your cheeks flushing even more as the reality of the situation sinks in—you’re touching him right here in the parking lot, and it feels both forbidden and exhilarating.

Then, with a mischievous spark, his smile widens as he admits, “You know, Mai wants me too.” He pauses momentarily before adding, “She’s been trying to catch my attention all morning.” Leaning in close once again, he confesses, “But I don’t want her.” Gazing directly into your eyes, his tone turns low and insistent, “All I want is you.” Your heart pounds as you try to process his confession—unable to believe that Mai has been vying for him, only for him to truly choose you instead.

You withdraw your hand from his arousal, your cheeks growing even redder. "Xavier," you murmur, trying to soothe him. "Calm down. We can talk about this later." You attempt to pull away again, but he keeps you close in his embrace.

Xavier laughs softly as he confesses, "You’re so cute when you’re flustered." He leans in closer and adds in a low, earnest tone, "I love it."

You try once more to free yourself from his hold. "Xavier," you plead, hoping he will let go. "Please. Let me go."

Xavier lets out another soft chuckle, his smile widening as he whispers, "Alright." Then he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead before finally releasing you.

He stays nearer than usual as you both patrol the streets, his body constantly brushing against yours and diverting your attention from the task at hand.

You can’t stop stealing glances at him, each look making your cheeks burn. When he catches your eye, he smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he teases, "What are you thinking about, angel?"

You blush even more and barely manage to reply, "Nothing." Yet he doesn’t let the moment pass, his low teasing voice saying, "Don’t lie to me. I know what’s on your mind. You’re thinking about last night." He pauses before adding, "You’re thinking about just how badly you want me inside of you right now, right?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, wondering what the hell has gotten into him.

In the meantime, Mai follows silently behind, her eyes fixed on the back of your head with barely concealed anger. You can feel her irritation radiating, but you don’t even bother glancing back.

You’re too caught up in trying to ignore the way Xavier’s hand grazes yours as you walk side by side and warmth that blooms in your heart every time he ignores Mai’s attempts at regaining his attention. You’re not sure how to keep him from tearing down what little remains of your defenses—or even if you really want him to stop.

You sigh softly and keep your gaze fixed on the road ahead, fully aware that this day is going to be an exceptionally long one. 

Mai’s cheerful tone grates on Xavier’s nerves as he finalizes his paperwork for the day. With the office now empty and his mind already drifting toward the possibility of seeing you, he’s eager to leave.

Under the pretense of helping, she pulls up a chair, but her true motives become evident when she casually rests her hand on his thigh as she continues to write. As her fingers begin a slow ascent, Xavier’s heart races and his body tenses, anxiety stealing his breath away.

Her lips trail along his neck as she presses on, her hands slipping beneath his shirt to explore his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles. Slowly, she moves downward to his pants, deftly unbuttoning them and slipping her hand inside.

Xavier’s cock lies limp in her grasp, his eyes distant and sorrowful. He neither stops her nor responds—her touch is merely a faint hum in the recesses of his mind. She works methodically, her fingers wrapping slowly around his cock, attempting to nudge him into life with soft caresses and kisses along his neck, jaw, and lips.

He allows her to continue, testing his feelings, needing to be certain that this is what he truly wants. After all the centuries, all the effort, he has to be absolutely sure.

Xavier thinks back on much he had always desired Mai—yearning for her touch, her kiss, her presence. He remembers the countless dreams of this moment, of finally having her offer herself to him, of her finally giving him a chance. But now that it’s come, he feels nothing.

Mai abruptly withdraws, her eyes narrowing into a cold, icy gaze. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks in a low, husky tone that hints at the storm brewing within her.

Xavier exhales softly, his gaze still detached. “Nothing,” he whispers almost inaudibly.

Not satisfied, Mai presses on, “You don’t want me?”

Finally, Xavier meets her eyes. “I do. You know I do,” he admits quietly. “I just…” He hesitates, then continues, “I can’t.”

Mai’s eyes sharpen further, her lips twisting into a sneer. “You can’t?” she repeats icily. “Or you won’t?”

With a resigned sigh, Xavier looks down and murmurs, “I won’t.”

In an instant, Mai’s hand lashes out, delivering a sharp slap against his cheek. Xavier remains unresponsive, his eyes cast downward. Observing his impassivity, Mai’s expression hardens further.

“Whatever we were, Mai, it’s over,” Xavier states coolly, noting the shock on her face slowly turning into calculated resolve. “I’m done with games, chasing illusions, and deceiving myself into believing you were the one for me.” A wry, sorrowful smile curls his lips as he commits her stunned reaction to memory. “Maybe I believed that once, but not anymore. I’ve finally learned my lesson.”

Mai gasps in outrage as a bitter ugliness replaces the beauty she once possessed—a reflection of her desperate need for control. “Oh, Xavier…” she scoffs, “You were always such a hopeless romantic, blinded by your ridiculous ideals.”

Leaning in menacingly, her voice deepens, “You think you’re so noble, so pure, but you’re nothing more than a pathetic fool.” Without warning, she spits in his face, eyes blazing with fury as she warns, “You’ll regret this.”

Xavier wipes the spit from his face, his gaze never leaving hers. “I already do,” he murmurs softly.

Mai laughs—a cold, cruel sound. “You really think you can just walk away from me? You’ve been mine for centuries, Xavier. You’ll always be mine.”

Xavier shakes his head sadly. “No,” he whispers as he rises. “I’m not yours anymore. I’ll never be yours again.”

Ignoring the disdain in her expression, he pulls his boxers back up and adjusts his pants, fixing her with a piercing, detached stare. “During that mission, did you put yourself in front of that Wanderer just to bait me into saving you instead of her?”

That question had haunted him every time the scene replayed in his mind. Though he was nearly convinced that Mai hadn’t been with you at the start of the battle—only appearing beside you when the Wanderer attacked—the chaos of combat left him uncertain.

The truth becomes undeniable when Mai clears her throat and quickly averts her eyes. Her hesitant confession slices through him like a knife, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Disappointment clashes with profound loss as he mourns years wasted chasing someone unworthy of his unwavering loyalty and selflessness.

Under Xavier’s steady gaze, Mai finally gives in, exhaling sharply as she bitterly confesses, “Yes, it was a setup. I spotted a chance to create a rift between you and her, and I took it. I knew your hero complex would kick in when it seemed like I was in trouble.” She hesitates before adding, “I was tired of always being second, pushed to the background while you showered all your praise and attention on her…”

Xavier’s eyes widened with disbelief as his mind struggled to process the revelation. He can’t believe that Mai would stoop so low, risking her very life just to manipulate him. The idea of her using him in such a callous manner makes him feel sick.

He slowly shakes his head, sadness filling his eyes. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs.

Mai merely shrugs, her eyes freezing over. “I did what I had to do,” she replies flatly. “I wasn’t going to let you slip away from me.”

Xavier lets out a deep sigh, closing his eyes as her words settle heavily upon him. He can’t help but question how he ever believed he loved her, how he ever thought she was deserving of his heart.

Opening his eyes, he meets her gaze. “You lost me the moment you endangered her,” he declares. “You could have killed her.”

Mai laughs, a cruel sound that cuts through Xavier like a jagged blade. “I didn’t mean to,” she says with dripping sarcasm. “But I’m glad I did.”

Narrowing his eyes and clenching his jaw, Xavier speaks in a low, intense whisper, “You have no idea what you’ve done to me, do you? And the worst part is, you couldn’t care less.”

Abruptly, he turns and strides toward the door, leaving Mai seething in impotent rage. “Don’t even think about reaching out, Xavier. There’s nothing left for you here,” she hisses—a tone that once sent shivers down his spine but now repels him entirely.

With a faint, mocking smile, Xavier shakes his head. From the corner of his eye, he watches her collapse against the desk, her carefully maintained composure dissolving into despair at his indifference. “Did you really think some theatrics would win me back? Make me believe I missed our old spark?” he spits. “Wrong. I see right through this little stunt of yours, and none of it was genuine.”

Xavier glances back at Mai. Her eyes, now a tumult of tears and anger, lock with his—a stark contrast to the poised figure she had been only moments before. A fleeting moment of sympathy tugs at him, yet he quickly dismisses it, unwilling to lose himself in those tear-streaked eyes as he once had.

“We’re not who we used to be, Mai.” He steps fully into her view, retracting his hand from the door. Despite the maelstrom of emotions swirling within, his expression remains cold and detached, void of the warmth he once reserved for her. “The charade is over. In time, all illusions fall apart,” he continues, noticing the trembling in her slight frame. “It took me too long to understand the truth, but now I do. And hopefully, the other will too.”

Mai’s face contorts with a blend of anguish and fury, a grim mask concealing her fragile ego. His heart hardens further as he realizes he was nothing more than a tool for her to prolong her own existence.

“Don’t bother with apologies. Empty words mean nothing when they come from deceitful lips,” Xavier states firmly, leaving no room for rebuttal. “Perhaps someday you’ll grasp the value of genuine human connection, but it isn’t my duty to teach you.”

“As our paths diverge, I wish you no harm… but I won’t mourn your loss either,” he adds with resigned finality, fully aware that Mai’s actions were born of a distorted need to survive rather than sheer malice.

Though it pains him to let go of what they once shared, Xavier knows he can no longer let emotions cloud his judgment. Mai’s future is hers to face, and it’s no longer his concern.

Crossing the threshold, he shuts the door firmly behind him, sealing away the echoes of their tragic past.

Your phone buzzes persistently as you pull on a familiar, oversized tee, its worn fabric comforting against your skin while the screen lights up with a message from Sylus: “Looks like you won the game, little bird. My money was on you all along,” complete with a sparkling champagne bottle emoji.

Before you can tap the call button and demand answers, a determined knock echoes at the door. Opening it, you find Xavier—his clothes clinging to his body, rainwater streaming down his face in heavy, steady droplets.

Grabbing a towel, you rush to help him dry off, gently flicking water from his hair until a small, grateful smile appears.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stepping back slightly to study his face, torn between concern and the instinct to distance yourself.

His warm, gentle fingers brush your cheek in a tender caress as he nods. With quiet determination lighting his eyes, he softly asks, “If I were to ask you to leave Linkon with me, what would you say?”

Surprise fills your eyes, and a nervous stutter escapes, “Um, I—like for the day?” In response, Xavier’s lips curve into a rare, genuine smile, and a soft, amused chuckle echoes between you. “No. I mean—forever. Together,” he declares, every word imbued with heartfelt warmth.

A flutter of hope stirs within you, though doubt still tugs at your heart and makes you waver in his embrace. “Xavier… you don’t mean that. Mai—” you begin, your voice trembling, but he gently cuts you off by placing a soft hand over your lips. “She is no longer a part of my life,” he insists, his low, unwavering tone brooking no dispute.

He pauses, his deep blue gaze soft and sincere. “I know what I did was unforgivable, but I need you to know I’m not that man anymore. I won’t lie—it will take time to heal from everything, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to mend what we have.”

Slowly, his hands and lips begin to explore your body, as if even a moment apart is unbearable. His words whisper softly against your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. “I told Mai I’m finished with her. I’m done being her shadow, her puppet, her toy. I refuse to let her control me any longer. I choose you. I choose us.”

His declarations soothe the long-held ache within you, and you can’t help but melt into his embrace, your heart pounding. “I choose you too,” you murmur, your voice barely rising above the sound of the rain.

A gentle, content hum escapes Xavier as his lips brush delicately against your ear, his fingers tracing a tender path down your arm before intertwining with yours. His tongue slips past your parted lips, exploring every contour of your mouth as if savoring every secret note of you. A low, decadent groan escapes him. “So perfect…” he murmurs reverently, his mouth finding the soft skin just below your ear, its light graze sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. His desire, his desperate need to be close—to touch, to taste you—is overwhelming yet exhilarating.

His hands drift over your stomach, causing the fabric to gather just enough for his warmth to seep through. “Maybe you'll let me prove how truly sorry I am for hurting you?” he murmurs, softly nibbling on your earlobe before pausing to gauge your reaction.

“Show me,” you whisper back, your voice husky with desire.

Xavier’s eyes grow dark with lust as he hears your plea, and he nods, slowly beginning to peel the fabric from your body. His fingers lovingly trace the curves of your skin as he works. He takes his time, his touch as delicate as a feather, as if savoring every inch of you. His lips follow the trail of his fingers, leaving a burning path in their wake. You can hardly contain your moans as his mouth and hands work in perfect harmony to drive you wild.

When he finally reaches your breasts, he pauses—his gaze drinking in the sight. “So beautiful,” he murmurs before leaning forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips. He sucks gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh and sending waves of pleasure through your body. You arch your back, pressing yourself further into his mouth, prompting a low groan from him.

He continues to tease you, his lips and tongue performing their magic on your breasts until you writhe beneath him. Then, he slowly begins his descent along your body, pausing to kiss and lick every inch of your skin as he goes.

Reaching the inner junction of your thighs, he stops again, his gaze burning with desire. “I want to taste you,” he murmurs softly. “I want you to come on my tongue.”

A moan escapes you at his words, the thought of him between your legs nearly overwhelming you. “Please,” you whisper.

Without needing any further encouragement, Xavier leans in, his tongue parting your folds and gently caressing your clit. You cry out in pleasure as your hands tangle in his hair, his skillful tongue working wonders that drive you into a wild frenzy. You feel your climax building, your muscles tightening as he draws you closer and closer to the edge.

And then he stops.

Frustration overtakes you, and you cry out, your body trembling with need. “Xavier!” you moan. “Please….”

He chuckles, his warm breath caressing your skin. “Don’t worry, i’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs.

Slowly, he resumes his teasing, his tongue tracing deliberate, careful circles around your clit. You feel the pressure mount inside you, your muscles constricting as he once again brings you to the edge. But just as you are about to surrender to the surge, he halts again.

Your body shakes with need as you cry, “Please! Why are you doing this? I need to come.”

Xavier chuckles once more, his warm breath lingering on your skin as he leans back, his eyes ablaze with desire as he surveys you. “I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs huskily. “So desperate for me.”

Heat floods your cheeks, but you can’t help it—you are desperate for him, yearning to feel him completely. “Please,” you murmur again. “I’ll do anything.”

Finally, he pulls back, his chest heaving with untamed desire. Gazing down at you with eyes darkened by lust, he murmurs, “I think it’s time I show you just how sorry I really am,” before slowly beginning to undress.

Mesmerized, you watch as he reveals his body. Muscles ripple beneath his skin with each movement, his arousal evident as his cock hardens, eagerly awaiting you. The desire in his eyes is unmistakable—the need to be inside you palpable.

Then he's on top of you again, his body pressing you firmly against the mattress. His lips capture yours in a fierce, assertive kiss. You feel him between your thighs, his arousal gliding against your clit as he teases your entrance.

You moan, arching your body to meet his touch. “Please,” he breathes, “Let me in.”

You nod, your hands trailing down his back to rest on his hips. He groans, his hips lurching forward as he enters you in one clean stroke. You cry out, the sensation of him stretching you nearly overwhelming.

He halts, still for a moment as he gazes into your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, your breath shallow. “I’m fine,” you whisper, “Just...give me a minute.”

He agrees with a nod, reuniting his lips with yours before slowly beginning to move inside you again. Each thrust is measured and unhurried, his body gradually stirring a frenzy of pleasure within you. You feel the build-up of orgasm as your muscles clench around him, and he murmurs, “You’re still so tight, angel… I promise I’ll open you up better next time.”

And then you you’re coming, your body trembling with delight as he pushes you over the edge. You cry his name, your nails digging into his back while you surrender to the ecstasy.

Xavier groans, his body tightening above you. “Fuck,” he softly growls through clenched teeth, “You feel so good.”

After a pause, he catches his breath and looks down between you. “I’ve… I’ve never done this before,” he confesses in a husky tone filled with adoration. “I’m so glad I didn’t… with her.”

He enters you once more, this time harder, his forceful thrusts driving you into the mattress again and again and again.You moan, gripping his shoulders as he claims you relentlessly. His lips slide to your neck, his teeth gently nibbling your skin while he continues with a relentless rhythm.

Leaning back, he withdraws slightly, his eyes burning with raw desire as his hand teases against your clit. Even still recovering from your previous climax, the caress of his fingers sends shivers through you.

“I love seeing you like this for me,” he murmurs again in your ear, his fingers dancing over your aching clit. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you gasp, as his finger dips in slightly, circling and teasing your entrance.

“Fuck.” His groan is deep and guttural as he thrusts back inside you, each movement more forceful as he drives deep into your pussy.

He braces himself on the bed with one hand while the other reaches to grab a handful of your breast. You feel him moving inside you, and it surpasses anything you’ve ever experienced. The pleasure is so perfect that it makes it difficult to stay upright, your hands clinging to his hips for support.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs again, “So tight and perfect… made just for me.”

His lips return for an urgent kiss before drifting down to nibble along the side of your neck. One lick sends a tremor through your body, igniting another surge of pleasure deep within.

You moan his name, your fingers scratching into his skin as you begin to build towards another climax, your pussy tightening around him, milking him for all he’s got. He groans and drives harder inside you, his thrusts losing control under how good you feel. It's obvious that he's close to coming, his body visibly tensing above you.

"Fuck, angel," he pants as slams deep inside you once more, his voice thick with need. "I can’t hold on much longer."

You moan, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer. "Fuck me. Please, Xavier," you beg as your pussy clenches down on him again.

He moans loudly, his hips jerking wildly as he pumps inside you. He’s fucking you hard now, the sensation overwhelming, intense, and utterly perfect.

Then, in a sudden burst, the built-up pressure becomes too much. With one final, jerk of his hips his cum spurts deep inside you, your pussy gripping him impossibly tight as a powerful wave of pleasure floods both your bodies.

Xavier withdraws, but you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he moves between your thighs.

His tongue licks up every bit of cum he made you squirt, sending your senses into overdrive.

"Fuck…" you moan as his mouth teases your clit, with his tongue trailing along your slit once more. "Oh god, that feels so good."

“Mmm.” A low hum of pleasure vibrates from him, making you shiver. “You taste so sweet, angel. Even better than I imagined.”

You moan again as he laps at the spot where your thigh meets your cunt, his tongue gentle yet determined to savor every last drop.

After murmuring praises against your skin, he shifts to lie beside you in bed. "Come here," he whispers softly as his lips meet yours in another slow, tender kiss.

He wraps his arms around you as you nestle into his warmth. After kissing your neck gently, he adjusts you so that straddle his hips. His hands slide down your back to cup your ass briefly before squeezing it with a deep, satisfied groan.

“You look so pretty like this...” he murmurs in a low, reverent tone, his hands sliding down to find your clit and tease it again.

The sensation makes you gasp against his lips, and he seizes the moment, sliding his tongue into your mouth for a passionate kiss.

Your body arches into his touch, begging, pleading for more, but he doesn’t push inside right away, allowing his fingers to tease you until you’re rocking against them, moaning with need.

“Please, Xavier,” you plead as your walls clench at the empty space. “I need you inside me again.”

He groans in response, and then his hand grips your hips, drawing you down so that his cock slips back into you. Your eyes flutter as he shifts beneath you, plunging deeper into the warmth of your body.

"Oh, angel," Xavier groans against your ear as he pushes inside you again. "You're still as tight as you were the first time."

"Mmhm," you murmur, running a hand through his silver hair. "So good."

For a moment, his teeth graze your neck as he slowly angles his hips into you, his fingers still deftly teasing your clit with each movement.

"Lean back a little," he whispers suddenly into your ear. "And use me."

"What?" you ask, blinking in surprise.

"Ride me," he directs, shifting you back and resting himself against the headboard. His hand slides up to grasp one of your hips. “Make yourself come on my cock.”

"Ohhh," you moan at the thought, your body already beginning to rock against him with the idea.

"Such a good girl for me," he murmurs softly with a lingering kiss as his hips rock gently inside you. "Just like that."

His fingers find your clit once again, making you clench tightly around him. You moan as a new surge of pleasure builds within you, your body moving faster in perfect rhythm with his now.

“Oh, angel” he groans beneath you, his hands gripping your curves with an intensity that makes you shiver. “You feel absolutely amazing like this.”

Your hands slide down between you for support, but he quickly tuts them away. “Don’t touch yourself,” he commands, his tone steady despite his labored breathing. “Let me do it for you.”

You let out a soft whimper and nod, instinctively complying with his needs.

“I know,” he pants above you. “I’m close again too.” His hips rock up faster now, his fingers pinching and twisting your clit harder. “Do it for me,” he urges, his voice strained as his quickening breathing matches the rush of pleasure building between you. You can sense his struggle to hold back, even as you feel yourself nearing the peak.

“Xavier.” Your moan is loud now as your pussy clenches tight around him again. “Xavier!”

“Yes,” he gasps into your ear, his hands squeezing tighter while he thrusts upward with increased urgency. “That’s it.” Both of you shudder in a powerful moment as pleasure jolts through your intertwined bodies.

A scream of ecstasy escapes you as your body quivers against his solid chest, the bliss lingering for a few exquisite moments. Afterward, he draws you back into his embrace with a deep groan, as if determined to keep every inch of himself pressed inside you.

His breathing remains heavy until he tilts his head just enough to plant a final, gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead. “You did so well,” Xavier murmurs softly into your ear before his hands rise to gently cup your cheeks, savoring every detail of your blissed-out expression.

“But we're still not finished,” he whispers against your lips as his hips resume their gentle, rhythmic movement. The promise in his words makes you moan again, your body already tightening around him in anticipation. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Feels so good. so full…”

He groans as his pace quickens, then slowly withdraws with a soft murmur. “Turn over onto your stomach,” he instructs, moving away from the bed with purpose. “I want to tie your hands behind your back.”

A shiver runs through you at the thought as you obediently roll onto your stomach for him.

Returning swiftly, he takes each of your wrists, drawing them behind you. First, he binds them together, then secures both wrists to your thighs, leaving just enough freedom for him to continue thrusting into you.

Then his fingers find your wetness, teasing and pinching at your clit gently before trailing more moisture down toward the inviting tight little pucker there.

“Ohhh,” you murmur deeply as one of his fingers slips easily into that tight space, not giving you time to adapt before another joins in. “Xavier!” you gasp at the unfamiliar sensation, but your delight is undeniable.

“Good,” he murmurs as his other hand slides up to caress one of your breasts, his playful teasing at your nipple making you jerk against both his hands simultaneously. “I love having you so overstimulated and desperate like this.” He groans softly, his fingers sliding in and out faster, harder. “Writhe around for me.”

Instinctively, you obey, arching your back with a moan as you rock back on those fingers stretching you so deliciously.

He groans at the sight, his fingers moving faster into you before he pulls away entirely. He positions himself along your back, forcing himself inside you once more. The sudden pressure makes your body tense as you cry out in ecstasy.

You hear him curse quietly against your ear then, as though battling to stop himself from just taking you as hard as he wants. His breathing is heavy on your back, and with his chest pressed fully against yours, he leans even closer.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs once more, one hand winding around to squeeze one of your breasts while the other slips down to grasp you beneath. “So unbelievably tight and perfect.” At the same time, his thumb presses firmly on your clit, making you clench around him with a guttural cry. Every inch of you is filled and deliciously stretched, leaving you barely able to breathe. “And all mine.”

“Please, Xavier,” you hear yourself gasp into the pillow.

Xavier groans louder at your plea, his body rising off you until he’s standing again, your bound wrists now pressed against the bed, arching your back even further. He fucks into you hard now, causing you to rock into his hand that's still cradling you from below.

“You feel too good,” he whispers as his pace quickens. “Gonna make me come again already...”

Your moans grow louder, your words desperate as you plead, “Please… please fill me up, Xavier,” managing the plea before another rough thrust leaves you momentarily speechless.

Xavier curses again as his fingers tighten around your clit, pinching and tugging as he pushes as deep inside you as possible.

Your body convulses repeatedly with the release, his hips jerking against yours while wave after wave of thick cum spills deep inside you again. Your pussy clenches down around him in response, trying to milk him for more, both of you crying out in ecstasy at the feeling.

When he finally pulls free and your body sags heavily into the bed with a groan, you hear his fingers quickly unfastening your bindings.

“Xavier?” Your moan turns into a scream as his hard cock suddenly pushes back inside you without warning. You clench around him tightly with a groan at the sensation, his hips already moving even harder now as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m never letting you go,” he growls, his teeth pressing against your neck as he bites lightly, making your eyes widen.

Everything around you fades to black as the pleasure overwhelms you. His thrusts become rough and forceful, your pussy clenching around him tighter than ever.

With every powerful thrust, your body rocks in time, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing all around as he takes you completely, no longer holding anything back.

When he finally pulls out once more, he flips you onto your back with ease, then forces himself down onto your tongue amid simultaneous moans.

“Mmm... I think you might look prettiest like this,” he murmurs low into your hair as his hips move faster against your lips, filling you with his hot release again. “with my cock slipping between those perfect lips, my cum spilling down your throat.”

You moan louder at the sensation and suck him harder, your hands gliding upward to cup his firm ass cheeks, helping him grind into you even more, over and over, until he grunts loudly in another climax. You continue sucking until there’s nothing left, just like a good girl should.

“Holy shit,” he moans as he slides his cock from your mouth with a wet pop and leans down to kiss you deeply.

A blissful, proud smile spreads across your face as you melt under him.

“I want to see my cum trickle from all three of your holes,” he murmurs with a playful smirk. “Am I pushing my luck?”

You nod your head eagerly and roll back over onto your stomach. He plants soft kisses along your spine as his hands slide down to cup each asscheek, spreading them wide for him.

“Have you ever been with anyone like this before?” he asks softly, his voice growing almost shy. “That makes me so happy,” he confesses, his voice a tender murmur against your skin as you blush and shake your head no. His fingers glide again from your pussy to your asshole, deliberately spreading your wetness around the snug opening. “I promise to make you feel so good, angel.”

You respond with nods and moans, pressing back into him, craving him just as much as he craves you. He starts off tenderly—his fingers caressing you slowly for several minutes before gradually venturing deeper, one after another, stretching you open again in preparation for his cock.

You groan loudly at the sensation of them all inside you at once, a brief flicker of apprehension passing through you, but when his teeth nip at your neck to distract you, you can’t help but feel safe in Xavier’s embrace.

When three fingers finally find easy movement inside your ass, he withdraws them and replaces them with his cockhead, smearing your wetness around again. Your moan deepens at the feeling, your eyes widening as he slowly pushes himself further. Soon enough, your body begins to clench around him deliciously.

"Oh, fuckk," he groans from above as his hand drifts down to massage your clit in small, firm circles. A loud cry escapes you as your body convulses with pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his lips trailing along your spine. His hips grind slowly against you, delving deeper with every thrust until he' is's completely inside. "You feel so good, angel. Every inch of you is perfect—maybe too perfect...” He moans with each thrust, but you’re long gone, too lost in the intense sensation of him stretching you wide in every way possible.

"You love taking my cock like a good little slut, don’t you?" he murmurs, a slow smirk spreading across his lips, his hand tightening around your neck. His thrusts grow harder and faster, and you arch your back eagerly, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Yes! I love it, Xavier. I love you!" you cry out, your entire body rigid as an orgasm crashes over you even mightier than before.

At the sound of your words, Xavier’s entire body freezes, and a flush of heat colors your cheeks with embarrassment. Why did you have to say that? It slipped out unintentionally, but now it’s in the open, there’s no taking it back.

"Xavier," you murmur nervously against his lips as you attempt to pull away slightly. But he only tightens his embrace, pressing his dick even deeper into you, silently assuring you that his desire for you is as strong as ever. You actually think you can feel his cock getting harder at your confession.

“No one has ever spoken those words to me before,” he murmurs in a low tone brimming with wonder. “Not in hundreds of years. And never in that way."

His words cause you to spin around and stare at him, your eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you ask, your brows knitting together in astonishment at the idea.

This time he simply nods, his hands gently rising to frame your face for a brief moment. “Mai never said those words to me,” he repeats softly, “and no one else ever has either."

A tender smile curves his lips as his hands slowly drop away. “But you did,” he says in an even softer voice, every word coated in affection. “And I love you too.” His eyes lock onto yours, filled with unbridled conviction and wonder at what you’ve said.

His confession fills your heart with joy, and you lean in to kiss him tenderly in return, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him close. You long to feel him inside you like this for the entire night.

He groans against your lips, then shifts so that he’s on top of you once more. His mouth returns to your nipples, sucking and teasing them until they’re red and swollen as he draws your thighs around him and slowly slides back inside you.

His cock takes you in every way imaginable, each of you ensuring that the other is utterly spent by the end. He’s made you come at least 5 more times since your confession—and you think you’ve done the same for him, but honestly you lost count long ago. As the night gives way to morning, he whispers in your ear that he intends to sleep deeply nestled inside you all night, so you can keep him warm.

You moan at the thought, despite the fact that your body is already sore and swollen from everything he’s done. You always crave more when it comes to him.

So you wrap your arms around his neck once again and kiss him deeply for a few lingering moments before you grip his ass instead, holding him deep inside you until you feel him fill you up one more time.

When you finally fall asleep together, his arms are still holding you tight, your body still tender from being taken over and over by him, with him still nestled inside you as he drifts off to sleep.

You don’t know what the future ahead holds. But with Xavier’s arms around you now, you know that it doesn’t matter.

With a soft smile on your face, you close your eyes, letting the warmth of happiness envelop you like a snug blanket. As you fall asleep, vivid reds and rich shadows dance through your dreams, crafting images that resonate with something deep inside you. But as usual, when you wake, these colors hover at the fringes of your awareness, like the lingering notes of your favorite song.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Part 2 coming soon! :)

And btw, if you didn't like this story please leave a comment saying why—like what part made you stop reading or why you didn't enjoy it. Your feedback is super important to me!! :)) and I want to make sure that I write something that everyone enjoys :). Thanks so much for reading! Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings. :D ‪‪✿

[meo-eiru]

Do you have any tips on starting a VN is really wanna make one but have no idea how to actually start I have a few ideas but the writing and planning out is what overwhelms me and starting things is always a struggle how did start the process on your VN?

Well I'm no pro by any means so take everything I say with a grain of salt. I'm sure everyone has a style they find more productive but I'll talk about how I personally go about it as an artist who prefers drawing over writing (I'll be using the stuff I made for a now scrapped vn idea)

I usually like to draw a simple storyboard to get a gist of exactly where I'm planning to start and the story I have in my head. It's a very simple and quick step and don't be afraid to make some changes on the first version you drew.

For example here I have the start of the story and the 3 endings with the main diversion of the story line.

Then once I'm done with that I make a more detailed and longer storyboard of the actual game. I decide exactly where the options appear and where they lead to. This one is important, I usually go back to check what I decided on quite often, don't think "oh I can remember this no problem", you probably won't. Write down notes.

Once that's done I basically dive into writing the actual script, while following the story line I had decided on beforehand.

Visual novels are quite easy to code but they are very dialogue heavy, and dialogue writing is very different from writing normally. You can't just go "he said she said", you need them to come directly from the character. Don't be afraid to spend as much time here as you need.

As I said I'm not a pro, for example Sel is a writer and not an artist and I know she just immediately starts with the script after some planning, writes an overall script and adds in more details every time she goes over them.

There are no strict rules to making vns, there isn't a schedule you're forced to follow. See what feels easier to start with and go from there

[stvrnioloslvt]

the estes method - Matt Sturniolo

bf!matt × gf!reader

PART ONE HERE

disclaimer: the following content might not be suitable for everyone. please, read the triggers list before reading this story. also, english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

(pictures taken from pinterest, credits to the owners)

triggers: none, just pure fluff ahead

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

the car ride was silent. colby had offered to drive us home so that matt could cuddle me in the backseat. from time to time he tried to make small talk just to assure himself that i was alright, but i was too drained to actually reply with words.

i felt empty, too damn scared and tired to do or say anything. i looked out the window, alert, in case something decided to pop out at any second.

matt pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arms around my waist in a protective manner. he knew that i was using the last bit of energy i had to carefully analyze our surroundings instead of falling asleep like i should have.

"baby close your eyes. there's nothing out here"

i shook my head, still not sure of our safety.

matt sighed, "you should rest, baby", leaving buttefly-like kisses all over my face in hopes that they would help me relax.

finally, i gave in. it wasn't really my choice, but my body decided that it had enough and it had to shut down.

i opened my eyes only when i recognised the familiar turn that led to the house. i stretched in matt's arms, still recovering from the short nap, and looked out of the window as soon as we pulled up in the driveway.

"i'll get you inside baby, hold tight"

and just like that i was being carried (for the second time that night) bridal style in the house, up the stairs to the bathroom.

i heard a low chatter downstairs, then the main door closed as colby went back to his car and drove away into the night.

"maaatt" i whined, wanting to go back to sleep in his arms. instead, my boyfriend put me down, locking the door behind us.

"just a quick shower, then we'll cuddle in bed as much as you want. sounds good?"

i mumbled a small okay, ready to do whatever he wanted if it meant that we would cuddle later on.

his big hands reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up with ease. he took a moment to notice that i did, in fact, draw tons of protective sigils on me just like i said: two on my collarbones, one per wrist, and one that was half-hidden by my underwear.

"well, i don't think that was a good idea" i chuckled, wandering where i went wrong.

i looked up to see tears welling up in matt's eyes, clearly still shook from the scene that played in front of him.

and that's when it hit me: how did the boys feel in that moment? what went through their minds? of course, being the protagonist of a traumatic event was hard, but how did they live it as spectators?

"matt" i whispered, taking the boy in my arms. we held each other like that for a few minutes, sobbing, relieved that everything was over, but also scared to death for what could have happened instead.

"i was so scared, my love, so fucking scared. so, so scared" whimpered matt, holding me tighter with each word that left his mouth. he pulled back, looking me in the eyes, holding my head in his hands. the look on his face mirrored mine: bloodshot eyes, tear streaks drying on the cheeks, the expression of someone who was convinced that they had lost everything that they loved the most.

"i love you" i managed to choke out, caressing his cheeks.

"i love you too, baby. so fucking much"

his head turned towards the shower, an implicit sign that we should probably go ahead.

as we stripped each other, we made sure to take all the time needed: kissing, nibbling, hugging whenever we wanted. and as we stepped under the warm water, i made sure to appreciate with gratitude that moment of just us two, cuddling and loving each other gently.

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

"jump in bed, sweetheart, i'll just turn the lights off"

"no, wait!" i pulled matt away from the light switch, gripping his wrist tightly.

"can we sleep with the lights on? just for tonight, please"

the boy smiled at me softly, climbing in bed next to me.

i scooted closer to him, letting his familiar scent invade my senses. matt wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him.

there, protected by his presence, his warmth, and his love, i felt truly at home.

"matt i love you so, so much that words can't describe how my heart feels for you" i mumbled, trying to fight the sleepiness.

"like seriously," i continued, "my heart hurts at the idea that you will never know how much i truly love you"

matt chuckled, listening to my pathetic babble in a sleep drunk state.

"go to sleep, sweet girl, i love you too."

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

the end.

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

hope you guys enjoyed it! I truly felt the need to give these two a chance to cry it out and fall asleep in each other's arms, knowing that they are safe.

let me know if you have any suggestions, ideas, or even if you liked it!

love you all,

-bree <3