#so seeing someone do this and start to waver

[wildfluer]

⚘( ၴႅၴ DISTANCE ( jj maybank )

— summary after weeks of being distant, jj shows up at your door late at night. something’s wrong, but he won’t let you in.

— content warnings angst, mentions of abuse/implied abuse ( jj )

— a/n first post on here!! i felt like writing gut wrenching angst but i’m not sure if i like it

it started with distance. the missed calls, the unread texts. the way jj avoided your gaze, eyes darting away quickly. at first, you ignored it. it was normal for him to act distant sometimes. it was just his natural response to everything. he was always dealing with shit, and that was how he coped. you respected that—but this time, it felt different.

even as you were trying to ignore it, you couldn’t. the bruises on his knuckles never seem to fade. pope tells you he’s been picking fights at the wreck, at parties, anywhere someone is dumb enough to take the bait. kie says he’s been drinking too much, disappearing for hours, coming back and barely being able to stand. her voice is full of worry as she tells you, “he won’t even talk to any of us”.

he won’t talk to you either. you wait, hoping he’ll come to you for help. but jj maybank doesn’t ask for help. he never does—he spirals. and right now, he’s spiraling hard.

. . .

it’s past midnight when you hear a hesitant knock on your door. you almost didn’t catch it over the sound of the rain hammering against your window. when you open the door, jj is standing there, soaked head to toe from the rain. his hoodie clings to his body, hair dripping into his eyes.

when he looks up at you, you feel your heart throb. he looks miserable. “i had nowhere else to go,” he mumbles. his voice is raw, like he’s been screaming or crying—probably both. you quickly urge him to come inside. he doesn’t meet your eyes as he steps in, dripping water onto the floor. you grab a towel and hand it to him, but he just stares at it like it’s some foreign object. “jj,” you murmur, your voice quiet as if you don’t wanna scare him off.

he blinks, finally taking the towel but barely using it. instead, he runs a hand through his soaking wet hair, exhaling shakily. “i can’t—i don’t wanna talk, okay?” he rubs his eyes, sighing. “i already know you’re gonna offer to help me or some bullshit, but i don’t need help, alright? i just needed somewhere to go.” he’s rambling, and as you go to place a hand on his shoulder, you see him flinch. you quickly retract your hand. it’s a subtle movement, but you saw it. and it made your stomach drop, because it confirmed your suspicions.

“jj,” you start, voice soft and careful. “what happened?”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “that dosen’t matter.”

“it does,” you say.

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand down his face. “no, it really doesn’t.” you want to argue and tell him that it does matter—but you know jj. you know that pushing too hard will only make him pull away faster. you don’t know what to do. “hey, it’s okay. you don’t have to tell me what happened. but you also don’t have to act like whatever you’re going through doesn’t hurt either.”

his jaw clenches, eyes flickering to the floor. “i don’t feel anything.”

you frown at his words, “i don’t believe that.” jj scoffs in response, but there’s no real fight in it. just exhaustion. you watch his shoulders tense, his hands balling into fists at his sides. he’s struggling, and you can see it. you watch as his eyes dart toward the door like he’s already planning his escape.

but then, something cracks. he speaks, his voice wavering this time. “i’m so fuckin’ tired of this shit,” he exhales, “i’m so tired.” he sounds so defeated that it breaks you.

“let me help you,” you whisper. “please, jj.” he looks at you, and for a moment, you think he might let you in. but the moment is brief, and poofs into thin air in a second. you speak up again, this time begging him to not leave. but he doesn’t budge. instead he turns toward the door, his fingers hovering over the knob. for a second you thought he might change his mind. he doesn’t. with an exhale he mutters, “thanks for letting me stay for a bit.”

and just like that, he’s gone.

[borkthemork]

I know that the fandom jokes a lot about how much Togami and Kirigiri order Naegi around to explain the clues in the trials, but I absolutely love the way they utilized this during the 4th Trial.

Specifically, in how Kirigiri is able to pack so much humiliation towards Togami without even breaking a sweat.

Togami throughout the game, especially in the Fourth Chapter, has been continuously downplaying the capabilities, lives, and agency of his fellow classmates. He is elitist, he was born into a family where if you don't bite and claw to survive, then you won't win, and believes he got to where he is through sheer cunning, willpower, and cold rationality. The idea of cooperating with the other students was beneath him. The idea of seeing people such as Asahina and Naegi as equals disgusted him due to his perceived differences in their class, capabilities, status, and levels of intellect.

In Trial 2, specifically, we see him attempt to one-up the others regarding being able to showcase how powerful and assured he is as an influential player within the Killing Game. He even used Naegi as a pawn to get him on the trail of his fabricated crime scene, just to see how people respond and to make the game less "predictable" while keeping control on the situation. However...

In that same trial, we see that the moment Naegi was able to uncover something Togami himself couldn't catch, his resolve wavers. He is humiliated, angry at the idea of some commoner, who couldn't even read 11037 as an upside down 'LEON' at the first trial, was able to outsmart him and put them on a new, unexpected path of inquiry all together. We can see that this gets to him after the trial is complete, showcasing how even if externally he looks calm and assured, being put off guard cuts him deep within his pride.

Being outsmarted, taken by surprise, or not given power over a situation frustrates him, and the seeds of that get planted during Chapter Four through multiple characters such as Kirigiri, Asahina, and Naegi.

Keep in mind that during this chapter a few key points happen that set the stage for what's to come. I am talking about Kirigiri's critical comments towards him before the Class Trial, and that Asahina was able to slap and threaten him.

These series of events do four things:

One, Asahina's actions hardened his viewpoint on Asahina as emotionally reckless and stupid, someone who he will underestimate in the later parts of the chapter.

Two, this outburst makes him double down on the idea of emotion as inferior and childish.

Three, Kirigiri's warnings make him believe he can elude betrayal, that he only has to worry about the ones who are already suspicious to him.

Four, due to being humiliated still by Asahina's surprise slap on him, he wants to regain his composure and status again amidst the cast as someone unflappable.

To me, the last point is why Togami himself went to great lengths of drinking most of the poison bottle in front of everyone. It's a way to show how untouchable and smart he is as a player, that he can surprise the others once more and remain unscathed at the very end from thinking many steps ahead of them.

However, this is where Kirigiri's words and actions click into place with humiliating the crap out of him.

When Asahina is interrogated to be lying, Togami starts to lose his resolve. He fell for Asahina's downplaying of her own intelligence and how she made obvious tracks because he believed she didn't have the capabilities to make a cleaner crime scene, and never thought deeply on why personally she would commit murder on her best friend.

He has honed in so much on the idea of killed or be killed, that the obvious contradictions went right under his nose. It didn't help that Naegi had to point this out to him afterwards.

Enter Kirigiri.

Now that Togami has lost his footing with Asahina's reveal, she then tells him that there is new evidence, surprising him once again by adding another unpredictable factor to the trial.

Stacking on to that, she rubs in that he was the one who gave it to her, and that he was too busy acting like a smartass with the bottle that he didn't inspect the evidence closer in the first place.

Since Togami does have some respect for Kirigiri in being capable of deduction and yet sees himself still as one of the best within the group, Kirigiri hones in on this. She adds how she's "amazed" that someone like him would overlook this, adding in a feeling of his intellect and capabilities being looked down upon in disappointment by a semi-peer.

Togami notes this indirectly in his dialogue, but during this scene, Kirigiri is intentionally omitting the answer to the clue also.

Compared to how she omits info from Naegi in past trials due to wanting to observe his capabilities, Kirigiri wants Togami to get desperate in this moment. He is already feeling out of the loop with multiple factors outside of his control, and not being able to think of a proper conclusion on his own due to being put off guard.

Contrasted with his past lectures—about how you can't trust people, and that you have to do things on your own—she now has Togami begging other people for an answer on the situation. To the point where his anger and frustration makes his requests sound childish, as if he's the impatient one compared to everyone else in the room.

To add even more insult to injury, Kirigiri then diverts the answer to Naegi. The person who Togami has mocked multiple times for being a commoner, someone who will never be equal to him, and who he sees as dense as a rock despite acknowledging his past deduction skills.

By doing this Kirigiri puts Togami into a corner where if he truly wants the answer to his question then he has to beg someone who is the complete opposite of everything he defines as a successful person, and you can see Togami processing this for a few seconds before relenting angrily.

In previous sessions, Togami was able to have a say in the trials and even be a massive influence in how the line of inquiries followed through; the moment Kirigiri put Naegi on the spot and gave him the reins, the tide has changed and is now in their hands.

Trial 4 has Naegi and Kirigiri carrying the deduction phase in solving Asahina's betrayal and Oogami's suicide, and doing an amazing job tying up a lot of loose ends in rapid succession much to Togami's bewilderment.

He is completely falling behind, and this makes him even more humiliated and angry as he loses his cool during the second half of the trial.

He yells about Kirigiri giving him loaded questions, about how unfair it is that she knows more than him, basically watching this man go into a tantrum right in front of everyone he's previously mocked for being emotional. It is just an avalanche of continuous pathos triggering the same humiliated feelings with each second he reacts to them.

He has to listen in shock as Asahina is found out to have been the one who betrayed them, and that suicide was the only viable way for the crime scene to occur. Asahina and Oogami took him by surprise, and if it weren't for Naegi and Kirigiri to disprove the former's claims, they all would've been executed. Togami fell for all of it, and gets hit once more with the feeling of being wrong, of losing to people he never expected to best him while Kirigiri continues to refute him without hesitation.

He's then placed in a position where Kirigiri and Naegi have beaten down his arguments well enough for him to dejectedly apologize after yelling, which is huge for someone like him.

The best part about this is that the moment he does this, Togami takes a full backseat to the entire debate as Naegi and Kirigiri interrogate Asahina and reveal the truth over Sakura's death.

He interjects a few times, and he only jumps back into the conversation completely at the finale—all to ask Makoto how he was able to beat him.

And in the end, Kirigiri responds (in frustration, which is hilarious) by telling him the exact reasons why he never was able to solve this case. She didn't even have to go on a huge tangent, all she needed to do is hit him right where it hurts: his pride, his black and white viewpoints, his inability to win, and that he is just as vulnerable and volatile as the rest of the people he looks down upon.

These lines themselves wouldn't have gotten to him before. We have seen how resistant Togami was when the group tried to argue with him over his behaviors, but now, each sentence hits him like a stack of bricks due to being dragged through the mud multiple times all to prove Kirigiri's point that she was right, and that he was wrong.

There is so much humiliation just packed into every single back-and-forth of the trial, you can't help but wince (and cheer) at how effective it was in getting Togami to back down completely.

[tnsophiaayaonly]

QUAGMIRE - SEQUENCE.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ The world outside is silent, suffocated under the weight of a storm. Rain slams against the windows like frantic hands begging to be let in, but the candlelight in the room is steady—unyielding, like the gaze of the man across from you.

Scaramouche sits at the head of the table, his chin resting on his palm, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. The dinner before you is untouched. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting here, but time lost meaning the moment you woke up in this unfamiliar place, your wrists sore and an eerie waltz playing softly from an unseen source.

Your heart pounds. You don't remember coming here. You don't remember agreeing to this.

But he looks so pleased.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, tilting his head, violet eyes glowing like an abyss beneath candlelight. "Are you cold? Or is it me?"

You force yourself to speak. "Scaramouche… what is this?"

His lips curl into something unreadable. "A celebration, obviously." He gestures to the table, adorned with roses so deep a red they almost seem black in the dim lighting. "Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? You didn’t forget, did you?"

A chill crawls down your spine. You did forget. Or maybe… you were never meant to remember.

He stands, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps. Your chair scrapes against the floor as you try to push back, but his gloved fingers catch your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His touch is featherlight—mocking in its gentleness.

"You’ve been so distant lately," he muses. "Running, hiding, lying. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Don’t you see how much easier it is like this?"

His other hand finds yours, cool leather pressing against your skin. He tugs you up, pulling you flush against him. The music shifts—warped, like something wrong is hiding beneath the melody.

"Scaramouche, I—"

"Shh." He sways with you, guiding your body like a marionette in his arms. "Just dance with me."

Your breath catches. The way he holds you—so close, so desperate, so unrelenting—makes your pulse stutter in terror and something else you don’t want to name.

"You don’t have to love me," he whispers into your ear, his voice sickly sweet, "but you can’t leave me. You never could."

The music crescendos, drowning out the sound of your heart hammering against your ribs.

Outside, the rain rages on. But inside, trapped in his embrace, you realize you are never leaving.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ SPY AU. SCARAMOUCHE/KUNIKUZUSHI

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ CW: MENTIONS OF MURDER, MURDER, BLOOD, KIDNAPPING, FORCING, SPYING, YANDERE TENDENCIES, HUNGER STRIKE ATTEMPT, USE OF CHAINS TO LOCK UP. SCARAMOUCHE HIMSELF IS A WARNING. CHOKING (NOT REALLY), FORCEFUL KISSING, CORPSES MENTIONED, DYING MENTIONED, DECEIVING/LYING. VALENTINE'S SPECIALLL!!

: ̗̀➛ I DON'T fw this shi irl, it's fictional only.

ANDD!! I already have part 2 almost finished :,)

I'm so happy that i'm still able to gain audience despite just STARTING! ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

˚₊ · »-♡→ VALENTINE'S DAY.

You never should have trusted him.

The realization comes too late, sinking in as you sit at the candlelit table, hands trembling in your lap. The scent of roses is cloying, too thick, suffocating the air in this dimly lit dining room. Across from you, he sits—Scaramouche, the man who had been everything you wanted to believe in.

Charming. Witty. Someone who seemed so normal.

But normal men don’t smirk over the corpses of their lover’s family. Normal men don’t fake your death and steal you away, treating it like an act of devotion.

"Why?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. It wavers, betraying you, but you don’t care. "Why did you do this?"

Scaramouche leans back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass as if he were mulling over the answer. But the amusement in his violet eyes says he’s already known it all along.

"Would you believe me if I said it was for love?"

The words don’t register at first. Not really. Not until you see the way his fingers tighten around the delicate stem of the glass, his smirk deepening as if he can hear the way your heart is hammering against your ribs.

Love.

Love isn't supposed to feel like this.

Love isn't supposed to feel like drowning in the heavy scent of roses, like cold dread curling up your spine as the weight of his words presses against your throat.

Love isn’t supposed to leave you grasping for air, for reason, for anything that makes sense—

It starts with a dream.

A memory of warmth—sunlight filtering through lace curtains, laughter ringing in a ballroom, hands reaching toward yours in an effortless waltz. The dream is peaceful. Soft.

Until it isn’t.

The ballroom floor cracks beneath your feet. The laughter distorts, warping into something wrong. The hands that once held you now twist, grip tightening like iron shackles, pulling you into an abyss of suffocating violet light.

You wake with a gasp, your body jolting violently against the cold silk sheets beneath you.

The air is thick with the scent of roses.

Your vision is hazy, disoriented. For a moment, you think you’re still dreaming—trapped in that fractured nightmare of a world you once knew. But then you feel it—the weight around your wrist.

Cold. Unyielding.

A chain.

Panic slams into you like a tidal wave. You yank at it, metal rattling as you move, but the shackle doesn’t budge. It’s fastened to the headboard, locking you in place.

Your breathing turns shallow. Your skin is damp with sweat.

"Finally awake?"

The voice is smooth—almost amused.

You whip your head to the side, and there he is. Kunikuzushi.

No.

Not Kunikuzushi.

Not the man you thought you knew.

Scaramouche sits in a chair near the bed, legs crossed, watching you with dark violet eyes that gleam in the dim candlelight. He looks entirely at ease, like a predator who’s already won. Like he’s been waiting for this moment.

Like he’s been waiting for you.

You don’t need to ask what this is. You already know.

Your voice is barely there when you manage to whisper, "What did you do?"

His lips curl, and something about that smile makes your stomach churn.

"An unfortunate misunderstanding," he muses, resting his chin on his palm. "Or a fortunate one. Depends on how you look at it."

You don’t understand. Or maybe you do, but your mind refuses to accept it.

You remember the gunshots. The blood. The fire licking at the edges of your childhood home.

Your family—

Your breath hitches. "Where are they?"

His expression doesn’t change. "Gone."

The word is spoken so simply. So carelessly.

It crushes you like a blow to the ribs.

Gone.

The weight of it settles into your bones, pressing into your lungs like you might drown in the realization. Your hands shake as you clutch the silk sheets beneath you, as if grounding yourself to reality will make it less real.

It doesn’t.

Scaramouche watches you carefully, his gaze drinking in every flicker of emotion that crosses your face—shock, grief, horror. Acceptance.

"Why?" The question is barely more than a breath, fragile and cracking at the edges.

He exhales, long and slow, as if this conversation bores him. "You should be thanking me."

Thanking him.

Something inside you snaps.

"You murdered them!" The words rip from your throat like a scream, raw and full of something desperate. "You—You destroyed everything—"

His fingers are around your throat before you can finish.

The movement is fast, brutal. Your breath cuts off in an instant, the pressure of his grip not enough to kill but enough to remind you.

Remind you that you’re no longer someone with power. No longer someone who has a future of your own.

You are his.

"You don’t get to raise your voice at me," he murmurs, his grip tightening just slightly—just enough to make your pulse hammer against his palm.

Your eyes are wide, wild, heart slamming into your ribs like it’s trying to escape.

"Don’t look at me like that," he continues, tilting his head as if considering something. "I saved you. They were going to kill you too, you know. I could’ve let them."

He leans in, breath ghosting over your lips.

"But I didn’t."

His words coil around your lungs like a slow-moving poison.

He lets go, and you gasp, sucking in air as you clutch your throat.

"You're a monster," you whisper, voice hoarse.

He laughs.

It’s not cruel. Not mocking.

It’s genuine.

"I’ve been called worse," he muses, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his gloved fingers barely grazing your skin. "You’ll get used to me eventually."

The worst part?

Somewhere, deep down, you know he’s right.

════════════════════════════════════════════

˚₊ · »-♡→ SIX MONTHS AGO

Your life had always been the same. Dull, privileged, controlled.

As the child of one of the most powerful figures in the country, you were nothing more than a pawn, shuffled between luncheons, charity events, and security briefings. Every day felt like a rehearsed script, every conversation a careful dance of etiquette and restraint. You had everything—wealth, influence, the best education money could buy—but none of it felt like yours.

Your friends were chosen for you. Your future was already decided. Even the air you breathed felt monitored, sterilized.

So when you met Kunikuzushi, it felt like breathing fresh air for the first time.

He was different.

He wasn’t like the people in your father’s circle—those power-hungry aristocrats with hollow smiles and veiled threats. He didn’t treat you like a delicate ornament or a business investment. No, Kunikuzushi was sharp, quick-witted, and impossibly infuriating. He spoke in a way that felt like he was peeling you apart piece by piece, amused by what he found underneath. He had a cruel kind of charm, the sort that dared you to bite back.

And you did.

You called him out when he was being insufferable, rolled your eyes when he smirked at you like he had you all figured out. When he made some sarcastic remark, you fired back with one of your own. You laughed at him—not out of fear, not to impress him, but because you actually found him funny.

He should have hated it.

He told himself he did hate it.

But for the first time in his existence, someone had the audacity to treat him like he was real.

And that was his first mistake.

FIVE MONTHS AGO.

The mission was simple.

Get close to you. Earn your trust. Extract whatever classified intelligence you unknowingly carried—your father’s strategies, security loopholes, upcoming negotiations. He was to gather everything and then disappear like a ghost, leaving nothing behind.

You were just a means to an end. A fragile little thread in a tapestry that would soon be unraveled.

And yet, Kunikuzushi found himself lingering.

Instead of slipping into your life like a shadow, he watched. Watched the way you fidgeted with your jewelry when you were nervous, the way your lips pressed together when someone spoke over you at the dinner table. Watched the way you came alive when you thought no one was looking, twirling under chandeliers during ballroom rehearsals, humming to yourself when you wandered the palace gardens alone.

You were human in a way he couldn’t comprehend.

You were supposed to be just like the others—cold, mechanical, another product of privilege bred for power. But you weren’t. You were so alive, so painfully unaware of how different you were from the lifeless dolls around you.

And he hated it.

Hated the way his skin itched when you smiled at him. Hated that he memorized the way your eyes lit up when you talked about things that excited you. Hated the warmth in your voice when you said his name.

His fake name.

You didn’t know who he really was. You didn’t know what he had done, the people he had killed, the things he would do to you when the mission was complete.

So why—why did it feel so wrong when he imagined the moment he'd have to put a knife in your back?

THREE MONTHS AGO

He started deviating then.

It was subtle at first. Tiny, almost imperceptible cracks in his resolve.

The first time was when one of his contacts requested a private meeting in the west wing—an area of the estate you never entered, an area that was safe.

And yet, when Kunikuzushi saw you wandering too close, he didn’t hesitate.

"Not this way."

You blinked at him in surprise as he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight, his voice unusually firm.

"Why?" you asked, brows furrowing in that stubborn way of yours.

"Because I said so."

You could have argued. You should have argued. But something in his expression made you hesitate. You relented, letting him steer you away, unknowingly saving yourself from an encounter that would have shattered the fragile illusion between you.

It kept happening.

A threat here, a warning there. Every time you got too close to something dangerous, he was there to pull you back.

He told himself it was strategic. Keeping you in the dark meant keeping his cover intact.

But that didn’t explain why he shoved a knife between someone’s ribs when they spoke about hurting you in passing.

That didn’t explain why his chest burned with something he refused to name when he imagined what would happen if someone else carried out the kill order first.

That didn’t explain why, when he saw you laughing in the garden one afternoon, carefree and utterly oblivious to the fact that you were living on borrowed time—

—he felt something snap.

ONE MONTH AGO

The order came in.

Your father’s security measures were becoming too unpredictable. The operation needed to be expedited. Your family would be eliminated, and you—

You were to die with them.

"Understood?"

He should have said yes.

He should have played his role, cold and efficient, like he always had.

Instead, he hesitated. Just for a second.

Just long enough for the silence to be noticed.

"…Kunikuzushi?"

The name grated against him. It felt foreign, wrong, like a discarded skin that no longer fit.

"Understood," he said.

But when he looked at you that night, sitting across from him at the dinner table, unaware that you were meant to die—

The word tasted like a lie.

NIGHT

He should have let it happen.

Should have let the assassins breach the estate, should have let them do their job while he slipped away like he always did.

Instead, he made a choice.

The first body hit the floor before the alarms even sounded.

The second fell with a gurgled choke, blood pooling against the marble tiles.

It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t subtle. But it didn’t matter.

By the time the estate was up in flames, your family was gone. But not by his hand.

No.

He had been too late to stop their deaths.

But not too late to steal you away.

NOW

Scaramouche watches you as you sleep, chained to the bed, face still drawn with exhaustion from the sedatives he had forced into your system.

It’s ironic.

He was sent to eliminate you.

And yet here you are. Alive. Breathing. His.

He should feel satisfied. Should feel victorious.

But all he feels is a sharp, twisting ache in his chest.

He doesn’t understand it.

He doesn’t want to understand it.

All he knows is that he made a choice that night.

And he’d make it again.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The world outside is silent, drowned in the weight of the storm. Rain slams against the windows like frantic hands begging to be let in, but the candlelight in the room is steady—unyielding, like the gaze of the man across from you.

Scaramouche sits at the head of the table, legs crossed, his wine glass held loosely between his fingers. His presence is suffocating, as inescapable as the chain still wrapped around your wrist, the weight of it a cruel reminder of your reality.

You don’t know how much time has passed since he took you.

Days? Weeks?

It all blurs together, swallowed by the quiet, the isolation, him.

Your world has shrunk to this—his voice, his touch, the ghost of his fingers brushing against yours as he leads you from one room to another. You have no freedom, no control. But this—you can control this.

So you refuse.

You don’t eat.

The plate in front of you remains untouched, steam curling into the dim candlelight like a silent plea. The rich aroma of the meal does nothing to stir your hunger.

You ignore it. Ignore him.

His voice cuts through the silence, smooth and laced with something sharp.

"You're not eating."

You don’t look up.

"Are you sulking?"

You press your lips together, staring blankly at the table.

The air shifts. His fingers drum idly against the stem of his wine glass. You can feel his gaze, the weight of it pressing into your skin, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

A long pause. Then—

"You’ll get sick if you don’t eat."

His voice is quieter now, threaded with something unreadable.

You swallow, your throat dry. That’s the point.

"Maybe I want to."

A sharp silence follows.

You don’t look at him, but you feel it—the way the air turns electric, heavy, dangerous.

Something inside him snaps.

The movement is sudden. Violent. The chair screeches against the floor as he yanks you forward, dragging you into his lap with an ease that steals the breath from your lungs. Your heart slams against your ribs as his hand grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His eyes burn.

"You think I’d let you?"

His voice is low, dark, almost tender.

A shiver runs through you. His fingers tighten, thumb brushing the frantic pulse at your throat. You can’t move. Can’t breathe.

"You don’t get to die," he murmurs, lips brushing against your jaw as he tilts your head back.

Your breath stills.

"Not unless I say so."

The words should terrify you. And they do.

But beneath the fear, beneath the cold rush of panic and the burn of helplessness, there’s something else.

Something you don’t want to name.

Because the truth is…

You don’t know what terrifies you more—the way he wants you or how you’re starting to believe you belong to him.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The storm outside rages, a chorus of howling winds and relentless rain slamming against the windows like desperate hands clawing for escape. But within these walls, within this dimly lit room, the world is still—suffocated under the weight of candlelight and something far more terrifying.

Scaramouche sits at the head of the table, his chin resting lazily on his palm, watching you with a quiet intensity that coils around your lungs like a serpent. The flickering glow of the flames catches in his violet eyes, making them glimmer like fractured amethysts, deep and unfathomable.

The dinner before you is untouched. A feast laid out like an offering at an altar—wine as dark as blood, delicacies you once would have savored, but now, they feel like poisoned traps waiting to ensnare you.

And the roses.

Scattered across the table, their deep crimson petals so dark they appear black in the dim lighting. Their scent is overwhelming, cloying, like a funeral dressed as a love letter.

Your breath is shallow.

You don’t remember coming here.

You don’t remember agreeing to this.

But he looks so pleased.

"You’re trembling."

His voice is soft—mocking in its gentleness. He tilts his head, a gloved finger idly tapping against his wine glass.

"Are you cold? Or is it me?"

You force yourself to swallow, force your lips to part, to form something—anything.

"Scaramouche… what is this?"

His expression remains unreadable, but his lips curl ever so slightly.

"A celebration, obviously."

He gestures to the table, to the twisted display of devotion and control. The waltz playing in the background slows, as if the unseen melody itself is listening.

"Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?" His voice dips, sweet as poisoned honey. "You didn’t forget, did you?"

A chill crawls down your spine.

You did forget.

Or maybe… you were never meant to remember.

He stands, the motion slow, deliberate. Your muscles coil in anticipation, every instinct in you screaming to run, to push away, to do something. But your chair barely scrapes an inch before he’s there, before his fingers—delicate yet unyielding—catch your chin and tilt your face up to meet his gaze.

His touch is featherlight. Mocking in its tenderness.

"You’ve been so distant lately," he muses, violet eyes searching yours, dissecting you piece by piece. "Running, hiding, lying. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?"

Your heart slams against your ribs, panic creeping up your throat like vines.

"Scaramouche, I—"

"Shh."

His other hand finds yours, cool leather pressing against your skin.

He tugs. You stumble.

And suddenly, you’re in his arms.

The music shifts—warped, stretched thin, like something wrong is lurking beneath its melody. His grip on you is firm but not forceful, guiding you into a slow, deliberate waltz.

Left. Right. Spin.

Your breath catches. The way he holds you—so close, so desperate, so unrelenting—makes your pulse stutter in terror and something else you don’t want to name.

"Don’t you see how much easier it is like this?" he murmurs against your ear, voice threaded with something almost mournful. "No more fighting. No more running. Just you and me."

The waltz carries on.

You feel his hand settle at the small of your back, the other still cradling yours as he sways with you in perfect rhythm, guiding your movements as if you were a marionette in his grasp.

Your body obeys because it has no other choice.

"You don’t have to love me," he whispers, his breath a ghost against your skin, "but you can’t leave me. You never could."

The music crescendos.

The rain rages on outside.

But inside, in his embrace, you realize the truth.

You are never leaving.

Okay so this was so rushed, so forgive the sudden lines I added and like I was just tryna do this for valentines special hehehe... for my beloved SCARA. I'll do one with kaiser, luka and sunday too cause they're my favorites ♡

[saythenametotheworld]

Guilty As Sin | l.dh (18+)

A summer in Mykonos, a tumultuous romance, and a classmate who’s always been trouble—only this time, you’re too broken to care. What starts as an escape from the wreckage of your past relationship soon becomes a mess of its own. Was it worth it?

one | two | three | FOUR | five

Genre: destination au, smut Pairing: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), mentions of alcohol and drug use Notes: 24k words. Part four of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. This took too long. Sorry. Song prompt was Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift, Tsunami by NIKI, Fresh Outta Slammer by Taylor Swift

I'm seeing visions am I bad? Or mad? Or wise?

In the sea of sweaty and intoxicated clubgoers, you moved to the music—loud, pulsing, and perfect for drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face. You weren’t sure how long you’d been here, but the sticky warmth of the crowd and the sharp burn of whatever you’d drunk earlier were enough to keep you from caring.

Someone came up behind you, his presence invasive before his hand even brushed your waist. “Hi, there. You alone?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the bass.

You ignored him, stepping away, but he followed, leaning in too close. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Just one dance.”

“I’m not interested,” you said sharply, turning to face him.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin on his face didn’t waver. “Alright, alright. No need to play hard to get.”

You moved farther into the crowd, hoping he’d lose interest, but it didn’t work. His hand wrapped around your wrist, and you stumbled as he pulled you back.

“Let go,” you snapped, yanking your arm, but his grip only tightened.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” he growled.

The slap came before you even thought about it and the sharp crack of your palm against his cheek cut through the music. His head snapped to the side, and when he turned back, his expression was dark. 

Before he could do anything, someone grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “I think she said no.”

You didn’t need to look to know who it was—you’d recognize that voice anywhere. Donghyuck was grinning, his voice was light, but the pointed look on his face was unmistakable. The guy dropped your wrist, and you stumbled back as Donghyuck stepped between you.

“Come on, man. Let go of the lady,” Donghyuck said, his tone conversational but his gaze cold. “Unless you like being remembered as the creep who harasses women because he can’t take no for an answer?” he added, nodding toward the crowd.

The guy hesitated, his gaze darting to the growing attention of the crowd. He muttered something under his breath before walking away.

Donghyuck turned to you, his grin softening into something more playful. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you muttered, rubbing your wrist.

“No, but you needed it,” he said with a shrug. “You’re lucky I’m so chivalrous.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I think you’re a much bigger creep than he is, Lee Donghyuck,” you mocked, but he simply shrugged, ignoring what you said.

“You’re a long way from your usual crowd, looking like that.” His eyes scanned you, just for a second, taking in the cling of your dress. “What’s the story? No friends? No boyfriend? No Jeno?”

The name hit like a slap of its own, but you didn’t flinch. “Stop asking. It’s none of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You made it my business the second you walked into my line of sight.” His grin turned wicked, as if he enjoyed your irritation. He leaned even closer, his lips almost brushing your ear. “If I stopped asking questions, would you go home with me?”

You huffed a laugh, but it came out harsher than you intended. “Never in your wildest dreams.”

Donghyuck hummed, as if you hadn’t just shut him down. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway. But it doesn’t hurt to try, does it?” He pulled something from his pocket—a sleek, black hotel keycard—and slid it into your hand. “In case you change your mind.”

You stared at him, but he was already walking away, disappearing into the crowd like he hadn’t just said something so suggestive. Though, that didn’t do much to derail your night. You stuffed the card into your purse and threw yourself back into the music, letting the alcohol burn away the irritation.

Later, as you stepped out of the club, the cool night air sobering you slightly, your eyes caught Donghyuck by the sidewalk. He was leaning against a taxi, phone in hand, looking like he had all the time in the world.

He looked the same as he always did on campus—a plain black shirt with a small logo and matching black cargo pants, white sneakers, and his chestnut brown hair falling loosely across his forehead. The only thing missing was a jacket to complete his everyday look.

Now, why would someone wear their usual college fit in a club? You have no idea. But since it was Donghyuck, he needed not to worry about his clothes. His best suit had always been the air around him—charming, confident, and effortlessly magnetic. The kind of aura that made it impossible to ignore him, no matter how hard you tried.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone—not even to yourself—but Donghyuck had a pull on you. And it was infuriating, like a loop of thread you couldn’t untangle, no matter how many times you swore you’d cut it.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you called, exasperation slipping into your voice. “Not you again.”

He looked up, his grin widening when he saw you. “Of course, it’s me again. I couldn’t leave without my keycard, could I? How else would I get into my room tonight?”

“You shouldn’t have left it with me in the first place,” you shot back, walking toward him.

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d use it,” he quipped, eyes gleaming.

You held the card out, but instead of taking it, he grabbed your hand. “Last chance,” he said, half-smiling. “Sure you don’t wanna come with me? No strings, just one night for friendship’s sake? Or two, if you find me worthy enough. I know you would.”

“What friendship are you even talking about? We’re not friends.”

Donghyuck nodded thoughtfully. “You know what? I agree. Why should we be friends when we can be more than that?”

“Give it a rest, Hyuck,” you sighed, pulling your hand free. “It’s pathetic at this point.”

He didn’t seem fazed, flashing you a wink before sliding into his taxi. “Alright then, good night, princess.” As the cab pulled away, he blew you a kiss through the open window, and you could only shake your head in exasperation.

Then, you hailed your own cab, and told yourself the night was over, that you wouldn’t let him get to you. But as the city lights blurred past the window, his voice echoed in your mind. Then, as if to fan the fire, the taxi happened to pass by a posh hotel with a glowing sign that was impossible to ignore. It was the same hotel on Donghyuck’s keycard.

“Take me to that hotel,” you said before you could think twice.

It took three minutes to pull up to the entrance. Donghyuck was just stepping into the building when you got out of the cab.

“Lee Donghyuck!”

He paused, turning slowly as the porter held the door for him. The smirk on his face was triumphant—bright and infuriatingly charismatic, as if he knew all along that you’d change your mind and follow him in the end.

“There you are, love, ” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

The next day at home, you sat quietly at the dinner table, listening to your mom and sister talk about you, but not to you—a habit they unknowingly developed whenever you had your occasional quiet days where you’d rarely speak a word to anyone about anything.

Apparently, your sister is going on a business trip to Greece and wants to take you with her. And right now, she’s having a discussion with your mother who thought it was a bad idea.

“I’m not trying to hold her back from having a grand vacation, but—” Your mom’s voice softened as her gaze shifted to you. “Have you seen her these days? She’s not okay. Something is going on, and she wouldn’t even tell us.”

Her hand reached for yours on the table, her touch warm and familiar. “But it’s fine, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

You flashed a sheepish smile just as your sister started her counter-argument. “Exactly, mom. That’s why this trip is good for her. It will help get her mind off of things. She can relax, have fun, and experience Mykonos. It’s a beautiful place. I have only seen pictures for now, but I already know a place like that is definitely gonna cure my depression.”

Your mom sighed, exasperation flickering across her face as she gave your sister a pointed look. “We do not make light of serious conditions,” she said sternly.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry.” Your sister held her hands up in surrender before glancing at you. “But you get my point, right?”

You merely nodded, looking down at your food and poking it with the fork.

Your family had no idea what happened back in NCIT, just that you came home after the semester looking glum and stayed indoors all week. Then you stayed out yesterday and didn’t come home until noon today. Hence the subject of tonight’s dinner conversation.

“She didn’t leave the house all week, except for last night. Isn’t it possible she doesn’t want to go at all?” Her gaze lingered on you. “What do you think, sweetie? Say something.”

You looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. Her worry was evident, but so was the hope that you might open up, even just a little.

“It’s alright, mom. I’ll go,” you said simply, glancing at your sister. “Yeah, I’d love to go.”

You put no real effort into packing. A few pajamas, some random dresses, some swimsuits for the beach—you figured it would be enough. But your sister, ever the perfectionist, had other ideas.

She poked her head into your room and took one look at the mess of your suitcase. “Are you serious? This is what you’re bringing to Greece?”

“What? It’s just a trip,” you muttered, flopping onto your bed and watching her roll her eyes like you’d committed a crime.

“A trip to Mykonos. You’re not going to a sleepover.” She marched to your closet and started rifling through it with the precision of someone on a mission. One by one, she pulled out pieces—skirts, blouses, sundresses, bikinis—and tossed them onto the bed.

“I’m fine with what I packed,” you tried, but she waved you off. “It has all the essentials.”

“Girl, I know you can do better than this, but I understand that you’re not as excited as your ‘fun’ self would’ve been, so just let me do this for you.” She paused, holding up a pair of bikinis. “This is definitely going in. You’ll thank me later.”

You let her do her thing, too lazy to argue. As she packed, she rattled off questions in her usual rapid-fire style. “Do you have your passport? What about your ID? Did you check your phone chargers? Oh, and don’t forget a power adapter. European outlets are different, you know.”

With a sigh, you got up and started gathering the essentials. “I’ll get them,” you said, trying to tune out her nagging as you went through your drawers.

A few days later, you stepped out of the airport and were greeted by a burst of sunlight and the crisp, salty breeze of Mykonos. The sky stretched endlessly above, with a vivid shade of blue that seemed too perfect to be real.

You had expectations for this trip—mostly vague ones of decent hotels and laid-back beach days. But the reality was something else entirely.

A sleek black sedan waited for you at the curb, the driver holding a sign with your sister’s name on it. You glanced at her, eyebrows raised in amazement. “Seriously?”

She grinned, tossing her carry-on into the trunk. “What? Did you think we’d be taking a bus?”

The ride to the hotel was smooth and scenic, winding past white buildings and crystal-clear waters. But nothing prepared you for the sheer opulence of the place where you’d be staying.

The car pulled up to a sprawling five-star hotel on a cliff, with its white walls blending seamlessly with the island’s iconic landscape. A porter took your bags as you followed your sister through the grand entrance, your footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

When you stepped into your suite, your jaw nearly dropped. The room was massive—far too big for just the two of you—with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened onto a private balcony overlooking the Sea. The sunlight poured in, highlighting every inch of the furniture and sleek decor.

“Okay,” you said, blinking at the view. “This… is not what I expected.”

Your sister laughed, flopping onto one of the oversized beds. “Yeah, the company’s pulling out all the stops. They want me to close a deal with some big-shot investor, so they’re making sure I’m comfortable. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you echoed, still taking in the room with amazement. “I think this is ridiculous.”

She shrugged, a playful smirk playing on her lips. “Ridiculously awesome, you mean. Now, hurry up and change. We’ve got a whole island to explore.”

You wandered to the balcony, the sea breeze brushing against your skin. For the first time in weeks, there was a wave of relief in your heart. Your sister was right, this place is beautiful enough to cure depression.

First night in Mykonos, your sister took you as her plus one to an exclusive party. It was the kind of event you’d only ever seen in movies—swanky in every imaginable way. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above the ballroom, and servers in black and white uniforms roamed through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes. The guests were equally dazzling, dressed to the nines and carrying themselves with an effortless air of wealth and privilege.

“This is a lot,” you muttered under your breath as your sister handed you a glass of champagne.

“You’ll survive, I know it,” she said with a wink before leaning closer. “I’m about to go meet the investor. Try to enjoy yourself, okay? Mingle, sip your drink, and—”

“Don’t make bad decisions,” you finished for her, earning a laugh.

“Exactly. Have fun.” With that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone to navigate the glittering hall.

You were still wondering how you’d accomplish her vague instructions when you felt the presence of another person beside you. Turning, you found Donghyuck leaning casually against the bar, his dark eyes unapologetically taking in the sight of you in your backless dress.

“I’ll be damned,” he drawled, smirking. “My princess herself, all the way here in Mykonos.”

“Donghyuck?” you asked, incredulous. 

“The one and only,” he lilted, gesturing to himself. “Once again, fate has brought us together.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me?” He gestured to himself with mock surprise. “I’m swooping in before anyone else can claim you. At parties like these, competition is stiff for a trophy like you, you know?”

You frowned, your annoyance rising as you realized he wasn’t entirely wrong. A quick glance around confirmed what he’d said—more than a few sets of eyes were darting in your direction.

“I didn’t come here to be anyone’s ‘trophy’,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne to hide your unease.

Donghyuck tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Then why do you look like a trophy wife for these rich degenerates?”

Your jaw dropped, peering down at your outfit. “Do I really?”

He shrugged with a maddening nonchalance. “Depends on who’s looking.”

Before you could retort, he stepped closer, draping an arm over your shoulder with the ease of someone who didn’t care about boundaries. He guided your gaze around the room, pointing out different groups.

“To those men over there, you’re a trophy wife. To that table of twenty-somethings in designer suits, you’re an unfamiliar face so they’d assume you’re a model, and they’re imagining how great you’d look in their arms for a few weeks. Months, if you’re lucky. And that balding creep in the corner?” He chuckled darkly. “You’re a potential mistress in his eyes.”

You crossed your arms, bristling. “How insightful.”

“As for me…” He let his eyes roam the lines of your back, exposed by the dress, before meeting your gaze. “You’re whatever I want you to be. Pick me.”

“Pick you?” you scoffed, stepping out from under his arm. “I didn’t come here to ‘pick’ anyone, Lee Donghyuck. Save your sales talk for someone who’s interested.”

You turned to leave, but Donghyuck was faster, blocking your path with that infuriating grin still in place. In one smooth motion, he slid his arm around your waist, leaning in just enough to make your pulse stutter.

“It’s Haechan,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“What?”

“Haechan,” he repeated, extending a hand as if to formally introduce himself. “I’m not here as Lee Donghyuck.”

You swatted his hand away, narrowing your eyes. “What are you even talking about?”

“Identities are important, you know,” he said with a shrug. He reached up, brushing his fingers near your face, but you slapped his hand away.

“Get a grip, Hyuck,” you huffed, stepping around him.

“Your loss,” he called after you, lilting.

Without turning back, you raised a middle finger over your shoulder, earning a laugh from him that echoed behind you.

The swanky party was clearly not for you. You had lasted just long enough to grab a glass of champagne, exchange a few polite smiles, and endure Donghyuck’s insufferable antics before deciding you’d had enough. How his bum ass got invited to this party—or managed to come all the way to Mykonos was still beyond you, but it wasn’t worth your mental energy. You shoved him out of your thoughts and decided to make the most of the trip instead.

The next morning, you went to the hotel spa—quiet, luxurious, and promising some much-needed relaxation. After a soothing massage that left you feeling like a puddle of melted wax—in the best way—you headed to the sauna to unwind further. The warmth and the scent of eucalyptus welcomed you as you stepped through the door.

And then you froze.

There, in the dim light of the sauna, was Donghyuck. A girl in a hotel uniform straddled his lap, her lips pressed against his as his hands roamed freely. The sound of the door shutting behind you startled them apart. The girl scrambled off him, covering her face, as she darted past you without a word.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered. His gaze locked onto you, and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. “Fancy meeting you here,” he drawled.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of your towel. “Seriously?”

“What?” He leaned back, completely at ease, the lines of his robe parting slightly to reveal the toned chest beneath. “You can’t blame a man for enjoying the amenities.”

“I should leave,” you muttered, but you stopped. Didn’t you just decide not to let him ruin your vacation? Well, you were gonna do just that, even if it meant sharing the space with him.

You took a seat as far away as possible, your back straight and your gaze fixed firmly ahead.

“You’re staying in this hotel too?” he asked, breaking the silence. “If this isn’t fate, then, I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I think you’re following me,” you shot back without looking at him.

He feigned a gasp. “Goodness, princess. I may be willing to lose a limb or two just to get a taste of that pussy, but I wouldn’t go as far as stalking.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the absurdity of his statement. Willing to lose a limb but wouldn’t do stalking? Does that even make sense? “Can we mind our own businesses?”

“Of course, of course,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t mind me.”

You were determined not to, but the sound of him shifting in his seat drew your attention. Your eyes darted to him before you could stop yourself. His hand was resting casually on his crotch, and though his robe concealed him, the motion of his fingers left no doubt about what he was doing.

“Donghyuck!” you hissed, mortified.

“What?” His tone was utterly unapologetic. “I told you not to mind me. But you’re welcome to help if you’re feeling generous.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He chuckled, unbothered by your insult. “Come on, princess. We both know you don’t mean that.”

“Ugh!” You grabbed your towel and stormed out of the sauna, your face burning, and annoyingly enough, it was not just from the heat.

Back in your suite, your sister looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowing at the sight of you. “What happened? You look pissed.”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, heading straight for the bathroom.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she called after you. “Did someone say something? Do I need to go talk to the staff?”

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted, shutting the door behind you.

You leaned against the sink, taking deep breaths as you tried to push the memory of Donghyuck’s shameless smirk from your mind. Moving to another hotel briefly crossed your mind, but you dismissed the idea. It was probably impossible anyway since you were not the one paying for your stay.

Still, as you splashed cold water on your face, his voice echoed in your ears, smooth and teasing. We both know you don’t mean that.

And that infuriating smirk lingered in your mind far longer than it should have.

You hadn’t meant to follow him. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you stepped out of the taxi in front of the sleek hotel, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to examine too closely.

“Lee Donghyuck!” you called out, your voice cutting through the night air.

He stopped just before the glass doors, turning with an infuriating slowness. The smirk on his face was triumphant as if he had been expecting you all along.

“There you are, love,” he asked, stepping back toward you. “Changed your mind?”

You folded your arms, trying to mask the nervous energy in your veins. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late for that,” he quipped, offering his hand for you to hold.

Inside, the lobby was grand, all marble and golden light. You stayed close to him as he guided you to the elevator, your resolve wavering with each step.

The ride up was silent at first. You stood side by side, watching your reflection in the mirror walls. You stole a glance at him—looking sharp despite his laidback outfit. His lips were slightly curved as though he could sense your gaze.

The seconds stretched unbearably long, you could almost swear the elevator had stopped. How long did it take to get to the 21st floor anyway?

“Are you always this patient?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and teasing.

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering, Donghyuck moved, closing the gap between you. His gaze dropped to your lips, and before you could form a coherent thought, his hands were on your waist, and his mouth was crashing on yours.

It was hot and all-consuming. The tension that had been building all night exploded in that small elevator. Your back hit the cool wall as your lips moved hungrily against each other’s, his hands roaming as though he couldn’t decide where to touch you first.

As soon as you heard the soft ding of the elevator reaching your floor, Donghyuck pulled you with him into the hallway, his grip firm but not forceful. You didn’t even register the number of his suite as he unlocked the door, leading you inside.

The urgency didn’t fade. His jacket hit the floor, and his fingers found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down as he trailed kisses along your neck. Your breathing was ragged, your thoughts were a mess, until you felt his cold hands on your bare waist.

“Wait,” you exclaimed, your voice trembling as you stepped back.

Donghyuck paused immediately, looking at you with curious eyes. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t,” you blurted before you could stop yourself, hugging your arms around yourself. 

There was a glint of disappointment in his eyes, the usual confidence in his expression disappearing. For a moment, you both just stood there, the tension slowly fading away. Then, to your surprise, he smiled. Not the cocky grin he always wore, but something gentler.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. He pulled the sheets from the bed, gently wrapping them around you. “You should stay. It’s too late to go home now.”

You blinked at him, unsure if he was serious or joking. But then he didn’t say anything and just walked to the door.

“Hyuck…” you called softly, still confused at the sudden turn of events. “You stay. I’ll just take a cab home.”

He looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “Sleep tight, princess.”

You jolted awake in your hotel bed, your breath coming fast. The sunlight streaming through the curtains was far too bright, too cheerful, for how you felt. You recognized the white walls, the furniture, and the comfortable bed you were laying on. Right, you were in Mykonos for a vacation.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, sitting up and running a hand through your hair.

Of all the things to dream about, it had to be the memory of that night. You had been so close to crossing a line, so dangerously close to giving in to something you weren’t sure you could come back from. And it annoyed you that the memory didn’t feel nearly as regretful as it should have.

“Get it together,” you told yourself, swinging your legs out of bed.

That morning, you joined your sister for sightseeing, determined to keep busy and push Donghyuck out of your head. The sun was high, casting a warm glow over Mykonos’ iconic white-washed buildings and cobalt blue accents. Your sister was giddy, snapping pictures and dragging you along to every Instagram-worthy spot.  At one point, you sat to rest on a bench overlooking the Aegean Sea, and then she sat down next to you, studying your face with a curious tilt of her head.

“I see the Greek charm isn’t growing on you yet,” she said, her voice lilting with teasing. “Still thinking about Jeno?”

The question caught you off guard, and you stared at her blankly. “What? No,” you said, the denial slipping out faster than you intended. You hadn’t thought about Jeno in days. Donghyuck had taken up all the space in your head, much to your dismay.

Your sister raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why the long face?”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “How do you even know about Jeno?”

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I saw your posts. You never post guys, so of course, I had to stalk him. Did you know his social media is, like, painfully normal? He only has, like, four posts, and it’s all gym selfies. No wonder things didn’t work out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You don’t even know half of it.”

“Well, I would’ve known if you told me,” she retorted, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. He’s old news. You’re here now. Why don’t you look around and find some hot European guy of Greek descent and have fun?”

“Pass,” you said firmly, shaking your head.

She gave you a side-eye, skeptical. “Seriously? You’re hopeless.”

Later that day, you found yourself lounging on a beautiful beach. The clear blue waters stretched endlessly before you, and the sound of waves was almost enough to lull you into a rare moment of peace. Almost.

That peace shattered the moment you spotted Donghyuck, casually draped over a sunbed at the nearby beach bar. His hair was tousled by the breeze, with a cocktail in one hand, and a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he ogled you.

He got up and strolled over with a confidence that was as irritating as it was magnetic. “Hi there,” he drawled, his gaze sweeping over your swimsuit. “We meet again.”

“You really have a knack for showing up where you’re not wanted, don’t you?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Donghyuck smirked, clearly enjoying your resistance. “Now, that’s not true. You are happy to see me. And if you’re not, well,” he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping, “I can change that.”

You huffed. “What do you want, Donghyuck?”

“Just to extend an invitation,” he said, stepping back and spreading his arms dramatically. “There’s a yacht party later. Lots of drinks, music, and, well, other fun stuff. You should come. It’s not every day you get to live the life of the rich and questionable.”

The invitation was tempting, as much as you hated to admit it. A sunset yacht party did sound incredible, but the idea of spending more time around Donghyuck made you hesitate. “Why would I trust you not to make it unbearable?”

He tilted his head, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I like to go with the flow. See where it takes me.”

“Which means you’re not going to behave.”

“Depends on what you mean by behave,” he said, his tone teasing but his gaze intent. “So, what do you say? Risk it?”

You hesitated, knowing you should say no, but curiosity and excitement got the better of you. “Fine,” you said at last. “But play nice, or I’m leaving.”

Donghyuck chuckled, looking far too pleased with himself. “I can try.”

Later that evening, you were in your suite, pacing the room impatiently. The dress you’d chosen—a sleek, simple maroon mini dress with an open back and thin straps—was something you’d usually wear, but for some reason, you felt a little exposed in it. Your sister told you it was nice, despite its simplicity, but before she left for her dinner appointment, she suggested you change into something nicer.

You already felt naked as it is. There was no way you’d change into something more skimpy. You glanced at the clock. There was still time to back out. It’s not like Donghyuck would care if you didn’t show up. You could just crawl into bed and—

A few knocks at the door made you freeze. You weren’t expecting anyone, but you kind of had an idea who was on the other side of the door. Slowly, you walked over and opened it, only to find Donghyuck leaning against the doorframe. He looked annoyingly good in a loose black linen shirt and tailored trousers, his hair falling just right. He gave you a slow once-over, and his lips curved into that familiar smirk.

“Wow,” he said, his voice laced with teasing approval. “You really never disappoint.”

“Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your arms to hide the fact that his gaze had flustered you.

“Why am I here?” He pushed off the doorframe, standing a little too close. “I’m here to pick you up, that’s why. You didn’t think I’d let you walk down to the dock alone, did you?”

“I was actually thinking of canceling,” you admitted, stepping back as he strolled into the room uninvited.

“Too late. I’m here now, so you’re coming,” he said confidently, glancing around the suite before turning his attention back to you. He flashed a wicked grin. “Or if you want, we can just stay and have a good time. Just the two of us.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him to grab your clutch from the desk. “Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

The streets of Mykonos were lively with a crowd of tourists enjoying the island’s nightlife. You and Donghyuck walked side by side, his hands tucked casually into his pockets while you held onto your clutch like it was a lifeline.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone light but probing.

“Why would I be nervous?” you shot back, a little too quickly.

He hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’re gripping that bag like you’re ready to hit someone with it. You’ll have fun, trust me.”

“I don’t trust your idea of fun,” you muttered, earning a chuckle from him.

“You wound me, princess,” he said, feigning hurt. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep it PG tonight.”

You side-eyed him. “For some reason, I doubt that.”

“Smart girl,” he quipped, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You know me so well.”

Donghyuck held your elbow, urging you to stop walking. You looked up at the sleek yacht before you, proud and majestic with the unmistakable sound of party music coming from it. You were both nervous and thrilled, your dress feeling slightly too casual and too much all at once. Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked completely at ease in his casual outfit, the top buttons of his shirt undone just enough to be enticing.

“Stop fidgeting,” he teased, watching as you adjusted your dress for what must have been the tenth time. “You look stunning. Besides,” he smirked, holding out a hand to help you climb aboard, “if anyone says otherwise, I’ll personally throw them overboard.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand and let him guide you up the gangway. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as he steered you through a maze of well-dressed guests. The yacht was packed with people who oozed wealth and influence—designer outfits, champagne flutes in hand, laughter echoing over as the boat swayed gently in the water.

“Welcome to the world of spoiled brats and trust fund babies,” Donghyuck said, leaning close so only you could hear.

“Really?” you replied, scoffing at the obvious snark in his tone.

He tilted his head toward a man talking to a small group. “That guy’s been disinherited twice and keeps crawling back. The woman next to him? Reality TV star. That one there has a ‘tech start-up’ which was an obvious cover for something much less legal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know all this?”

He grinned. “I have friends in high places.”

Before you could respond, a loud voice cut through the crowd. “Haechan Lee! Is that you, mate?” A tall, blonde man with a British accent bounded over, pulling Donghyuck into a bear hug.

Haechan Lee. The name echoed in your mind, unfamiliar and jarring.

Another man joined them, clapping Donghyuck on the back. “Haechan! Fucking finally, man! It’s been too long!” said another.

You stared, trying to piece it together. You’d only ever known him as Donghyuck, and so had everyone else back at university. Does he actually have a different name? Was this some kind of alter ego? Or could it be a rich-people thing—having multiple names for different aspects of their lives?

Now that you thought about it, was Donghyuck rich?

Looking at him now, standing in the midst of wealth and luxury, he seemed to fit in effortlessly. His charm and the way he mirrored the polished demeanor of everyone else here—everything about him looked the part. But you’d known him since freshman year and you knew he had been living with Mark Lee, possibly mooching off of him like a homeless man. He even got kicked out last semester and had to sleep in the library for days.

Your train of thought broke when the blonde man turned to you, flashing a grin. “Now, brother,” he began, his gaze sweeping over you with polite curiosity, “won’t you introduce us to your lovely date?”

“Please tell me she’s not some pretty lady you randomly picked up on your way here?” the other friend chimed in, his tone light, though the comment struck a nerve.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly offended although there was no hint of insult in his question. Donghyuck’s hand found your waist.

“Ah, of course,” he said smoothly, his gaze flitting toward you. He introduced you by name, his voice carrying a subtle possessive hint. “She’s a very good friend from university.”

The British man extended his hand. “Harvey. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Luca,” the other one added, shaking hands with you as well. “I’m hosting this little gathering.”

Little gathering? You echoed in your mind, looking around said gathering which was nowhere near ‘little’ at all.

“Nice to meet you. It’s a lovely party,” you chimed, saying whatever comes to your mind just to be polite.

Luca smirked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Lovely is one way to put it.” He gestured around the deck. “Give it an hour, and let me know if you still think it’s lovely by then.” He winked at you before being pulled away by someone from the crowd. Harvey got swept away too.

“Okay,” you said, glancing at Donghyuck. “What does he mean by that?”

Donghyuck shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll see. Come on, let’s get something to drink.”

He led you further into the party, weaving effortlessly through the crowd as if he belonged there. His hand remained on your back, a touch that felt both reassuring and entirely too intimate. He introduced you to several other people. You shook hands with a couple of young entrepreneurs, exchanged polite smiles with a famous model, and even shared a laugh with an actor you’d seen from a popular Netflix series. Each introduction was seamless, and each of them seemed like they genuinely knew who Donghyuck was.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” he said, sipping champagne as the two of you moved to a quieter corner of the deck.

“At what?”

“Schmoozing,” he replied, gesturing toward the crowd.

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it schmoozing. Just... reading the room and playing the part.”

“And what part is that?”

You grinned teasingly. The alcohol you’d been drinking all evening had made you loosen up a little. “Haechan’s lovely date.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a boyish grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. He stepped closer, his hand finding your waist again as he leaned in slightly. “They’re not wrong. You are very lovely. What do you say, we go and check out the lower deck? Luca promised me my own cabin for tonight, you see.”

You rolled your eyes, gently pushing him back. “Come on, Hyuck. You can at least try to be subtle about it.”

He chuckled, unabashed. “Nah. Subtle or not, you’d still say no.”

“You knew that and yet, you never get tired of asking,” you teased, side-eyeing him as you turned on your heel, leaving him to follow in your wake.

Behind you, Donghyuck chuckled softly, and even without looking, you knew damn well that he was smirking and ogling you from behind.

You tried to resist the pull of his charm, keeping your responses to his flirting curt, sharp, or sarcastic. But Donghyuck had a way of disarming you, his persistence wearing down your defenses one witty remark at a time. His fingers lingered on yours each time he passed you a glass of champagne. And his teasing seamlessly turned into genuine compliments that made you glance away just to hide the faint smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll fall for me eventually,” he teased, catching your elbow when you almost lost your footing on an uneven plane. “I think you should slow down.”

“Are you kidding me? There is an unlimited amount of Dom Perignon just within reach and you want me to slow down?” you quipped, grinning playfully.

“I feel like you’re only here for the drinks,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

That made you cock an eyebrow at him. “You said there’d be drinks and food. That’s why I’m here.”

Donghyuck feigning a pained expression. “And here I thought you came to spend quality time with me. My poor fragile heart.”

You laughed a tad too loosely, throwing your head back as you held onto his arm to keep yourself steady. He laughed too, nice and unguarded, but then your gaze met his, and something about the way he looked at you made your breath catch for just a moment.

Clearing your throat, you straightened up and set your glass aside. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m laughing at something you said,” you murmured. “I must be drunk.”

“It’s okay to admit that I’m charming and sexy, princess.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Sexy? Where did that come from?” you quipped, shaking your head but unable to fully ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

The party’s atmosphere had shifted. The laughter around you was louder, the dancing more uninhibited. Couples huddled close, their kisses and touches bolder under the dim lights. In every corner of the deck, groups lounged on plush seats, passing around vapes with glowing tips and tiny glass bottles you quickly recognized as poppers. People on the dance floor danced with carefree, euphoric movements suggesting the effects of something stronger than alcohol.

Your stomach twisted. It wasn’t unexpected. Wild, exclusive yacht parties like this were known for their hedonistic nature. But seeing it firsthand was still unsettling.

Donghyuck caught your change in demeanor instantly. He leaned down, voice low but teasing. “Am I to assume this is your first time seeing rich kids go off the rails?”

“Not at all. I go to swanky yacht parties every weekend. This is nothing,” you deadpanned.

He laughed just as a guy approached, holding out a slim vape, a small pill, and a bottle of poppers. His grin was loose, his pupils wide—already several levels deep into whatever he was offering.

Donghyuck waved him off with an easy smile. “Not tonight. Tryna stay sober.”

The guy shrugged and moved on, but not before turning to you with the same offer. You hesitated, your curiosity gnawing at you, but Donghyuck’s hand was resting on your back protectively.

“You don’t need to indulge these people,” he whispered in your ear. “It would be better if you didn’t try any of that tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Since when do you get to tell me what to do?”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” he replied, his smirk matching yours. “Just saying, you wouldn’t want your first time getting high to be on a yacht full of strangers.”

You tilted your head, feigning curiosity. “What makes you think this would be my first time?”

He studied you for a moment, his smile softening. “Just a hunch.”

Before you could retort, Luca appeared between you, his presence sudden and disorienting. He threw an arm around both your shoulders, and you caught a whiff of the faint scent of champagne and something sharper clinging to him. His pupils were wide, and his grin was crooked and lazy.

“Still think this party’s lovely?” he slurred, glancing between you and Donghyuck.

You shot Donghyuck a look, but he only raised an amused eyebrow, his hand steadying you against Luca’s weight.

Luca grinned wider, extending a hand—offering you a small pill. “How about a little something to really enjoy it?”

You glanced down at the pill in Luca’s outstretched hand, then back up at his expectant face.

“I’m good,” you said, waving him off with a smile.

Luca huffed dramatically, slipping the pill back into his pocket. “You two are so boring.” Then, with an exaggerated stumble, he turned to a nearby group, seamlessly inserting himself into their little party within the party.

Donghyuck glanced down at you, his smile smoldering as his hand subtly tightened around your waist. “Good girl,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know. I’m just saying, it’s a good choice,” he replied, patting your head. “I do some of that stuff too. But, you have to be in the right state of mind to enjoy it.”

“I see. Thanks for the input,” you said, though it came out a little sarcastic.

Donghyuck chuckled, tugging you closer as he leaned into your ear. “Tell you what—how about we ditch the party for a bit? You, me, a quiet cabin, and maybe… just a little more champagne?”

You gave him a sideways glance. “You really can’t be subtle, can you?”

Donghyuck shrugged, completely unapologetic. “Why be subtle when you’ve already made it clear I’ve got your attention?”

Your eyes fluttered to his lips, so close that if you moved an inch, you’d definitely kiss. How nice would that be? You knew damn well that he was a really good kisser.

The image of you kissing him flickered in your mind, jolting you back to sobriety. You pushed him away gently, maintaining the teasing tension between you despite the sudden surge of embarrassment. 

“Nice try. But I’m not here for whatever you’re selling.”

He leaned back slightly, still grinning. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I’m feeling like you’re just one more drink away from saying yes.”

“Don’t count on it,” you replied, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression.

Donghyuck’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ah, the classic ‘don’t count on it.’ The universal no with a little bit of yes mixed in it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time, then?”

You couldn’t help but smirk back, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “Maybe,” you said.

You were both laughing with a group of his friends swarmed in, their energy louder than the music.

“Haechan, let’s go!” one of them shouted, grabbing his wrist. “We need you for a shot roulette.”

“I’m in the middle of something,” Donghyuck protested, his hand brushing yours in the motion.

“Oh, come on,” another whined, already pulling him away. “It’s tradition.”

He turned back to you, grinning. “You coming?”

You shook your head. “I’m good. Go be a menace somewhere else.”

He grinned, squeezing your wrist before he let them drag him away. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”

You rolled your eyes, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

Alone now, you took a deep breath, scanning the party with fresh eyes. The energy had thickened with the haze of something heavier than champagne. You wandered aimlessly for a while, letting the party wash over you, until your gaze landed on a familiar figure in a loose circle of people near the edge of the deck.

It was Luca. He caught your eye instantly, grinning as he lifted a hand and beckoned you over.

The reasonable part of you told you to turn around, to find Donghyuck or just enjoy the rest of the night without venturing too far into unfamiliar territory. But curiosity tugged at you, insistent and tempting.

Luca raised an eyebrow, waving a slim vape between his fingers. It wasn’t like a pill, wasn’t like the tiny bottles of poppers you’d seen passed around earlier. It was just a vape. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you stepped forward.

Luca’s grin widened as you joined the circle. “Look who finally decided to live a little.”

Someone handed you the vape, its tip glowing faintly in the dim light. You turned it between your fingers, your heart starting to beat a little faster.

Then, before you could change your mind, you lifted it to your lips and took a hit. The taste was sweeter than you expected, a smooth burn trailing down your throat before settling in your lungs. You exhaled slowly, watching the vapor float into the night air.

Luca chuckled, leaning in. “Not so boring after all.”

Hanging out with them was far better than you were expecting. Maybe it was the warmth of the night, or the wholesome laughter rippling through the circle. Maybe it was the THC threading its way through your bloodstream, making everything feel just a little lighter. Either way, you found yourself enjoying their company.

They were less obnoxious than you’d assumed and more entertaining than you’d expected. They cracked jokes, gossiped about people you didn’t know, and shared wild stories about past parties.

At some point, the topic drifted to Donghyuck.

“He’s usually the life of the party,” someone said, taking a slow drag. “Kind of weird seeing him so… tame.”

Luca smirked. “Yeah. Makes sense that he’s more focused on her than us, though.”

You frowned. “Why’s that?”

He gave you a knowing look. “Because you’re not like the rest of us.”

You weren’t sure what to make of that. But before you could dwell on it, the high started creeping further in, smoothing over your thoughts. Your giggles came easier, the music felt richer, and your body moved to it more fluidly.

You swayed to the beat, your limbs loose and weightless. The world blurred just enough to make everything feel softer, dreamier. That’s when you felt fingertips tracing over your thigh.

You turned your head, locking eyes with a girl beside you. She was pretty. Glowing in the low lighting, with her dark sleek hair, and her lips parted in a knowing smile. Her touch was featherlight, uncertain but confident, while her eyes were holding yours as if waiting for a reaction. And in your hazy, heady state, you recognized the look in them—bold, inviting.

She leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek, and you felt yourself tilting forward, drawn into the moment and into her. 

But just as your lips were about to meet, a hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You barely had time to process it before you were being pulled back, yanked out of the circle with a force that snapped you out of your haze.

Your head spun as you stumbled slightly, catching yourself against Donghyuck’s firm chest. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he said in a low but sharp voice. He kept his grip steady, with an unreadable expression as he looked down at you.

The world felt like it tilted slightly under your feet, the high still buzzing in your veins. You blinked up at him, dazed, confused. Donghyuck exhaled sharply and pulled you through the crowd, past drunken laughter and swaying bodies, until the noise faded gradually. He pushed open a cabin door and led you inside, closing it behind him with more force than necessary.

“Are you out of your mind?” he demanded with a sharp voice, cutting through the haze in your head. “You don’t just get high with people you barely know!”

You scoffed, barely processing his words. “Why do you care?” Your voice came out slurred with irritation. “Who are you to drag me away like you have a fucking say in what I do?”

Donghyuck exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus, you’re impossible.”

You caught the way his jaw clenched, the way his lips parted mid-breath, the way frustration sharpened his features in a way that made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the vape. Maybe it was the way he looked at you; exasperated, unyielding, so stupidly attractive it made your head spin for a completely different reason.

Before you could think, you grabbed onto his shirt, yanking him down as you crashed your lips into his.

His back hit the door with a thud, freezing for a split second. Then his hands found your waist, and his lips parted under yours.

Then he kissed you back—hard, reckless, like he’d been waiting for this as much as you had. You had no idea where you strength was coming from, but you managed to haul him from the door to the bed, pinning him down and trapping his arms on the mattress.

He smirked under your gaze, shaking his head. “Let’s not do this right now.”

You tilted your head, batting your eyelashes as you leaned down to kiss his jaw. “Why not?”

You let go of his hands and started unbuttoning his shirt. Donghyuck let out a breathy chuckle, catching your wrists before you could strip him out of his shirt.

“Princess,” he drawled, reaching for your cheek and kissing the side of your head. “Calm down.”

“Why?” you whined, scowling in irritation.

He planted a soft kiss on your lips and said, “Let’s not do this tonight.”

“Why?” you pressed, getting more impatient now. “I thought you wanted me?” 

His grip on you tightened. He did. God, he did. More than he’d ever wanted anyone before. But now that he was here, trapped between your legs, he couldn’t seem to make a move on you. “You’re drunk and high.” 

“I know what I’m doing,” you scoffed, slapping his hands away and tugging his shirt off. You lowered your lips to his neck, letting your kisses trail down to his collarbone and chest.

Donghyuck groaned, running a hand down his face. “Hah, I’ll be damned.”

You raised your head to look at him, pouting. “Just stay with me,” you lilted, reaching for his cheek and leaning to kiss him but he avoided it, looking away as he took your hands off his face.

“Come on. I’ll take you back to the hotel,” he insisted, sitting up.

“No!” You jumped off his lap, running to the back of the cabin.

With a sigh, Donghyuck shook his head, only to freeze in place when he saw you unzipping your dress. The silky fabric pooled at your feet. Then, with zero hesitation, your underwear followed. You stood there, completely bare, eyes bright with mischief.

“Come on, Haechan,” you called out, opening your arms wide. “No one is tearing a limb off of you. So come have a taste of this.”

Donghyuck clenched his fists. Then unclenched them. He had no idea whether to groan in frustration or throw his head back and laugh.

Instead, he crossed the room in long strides, grabbing you by the waist and crashing his lips to yours. The heat between you reignited in an instant, your fingers tangling in his hair, his hands gripping your bare hips like he might lose his mind if he didn’t touch you.

But then he pulled back and annoyance surge through you again. Your breath was heavy, lips swollen as you snapped, “What is it this time?” 

Donghyuck exhaled sharply, dark eyes boring through you. “Tell me you won’t regret it.”

“I won’t,” you replied without missing a beat.

His face visibly relaxed, the flamboyant smirk finally returning. “Good,” he said before he kissed you with an intensity that stole the breath out of your lungs.

You woke up to a dull headache and an aching clarity about the night before. The memories washed over you like a cold bucket of water. You blinked, trying to recognize the room. You could feel Donghyuck warmly pressed against your back.

You were naked. So was he. You didn’t need to rack your brain to recall everything, you were sure something had happened between you. You remembered initiating it but everything after that was a blur of kisses and an intoxicating high.

Carefully, you slipped out from under the covers, scanning the room for your clothes. Your dress was crumpled on the floor but your underwear was nowhere in sight. Great.

“Come back to bed,” Donghyuck murmured, his voice thick and slurred with sleep.

Before you could protest, he caught you by the waist and tugged you back down. You landed with a small bounce, his arms securing around you like he had no intention of letting go.

“I’m not some awful one-night stand,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “Don’t treat me like one.”

Your cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t.”

He hummed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. The brush of his lips against your skin, accidental or not, sent a nice shiver down your spine. “Are you regretting it?” he asked.

You swallowed. “No.” A pause. “I mean… I basically begged you for it, so no. I don’t…”

Donghyuck shifted behind you, pressing even closer. The heat of him was overwhelming, his skin smooth where it brushed yours. You tried to ignore it, but it was hard not to melt in his warmth.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “That’s new. You're apologizing.” You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him. “You’re not exactly the type.”

He exhaled. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

You hesitated. “Don’t be. Like I said, I asked for it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

Donghyuck scoffed in amusement before propping himself up on one elbow, peering down at you with a smirk. His dark eyes flickered with mischief. “You don’t remember anything at all, do you?”

You scoffed defensively, turning your head slightly. “I do. Duh. I don’t black out when I drink.”

He chuckled, his amusement only making you more uneasy. “Where are we right now?”

“In the yacht…” you trailed off, looking around only to realize you were in a spacious suite, with sunlight streaming in from the balcony doors.

“You didn’t black out, princess,” Donghyuck prompted, chuckling. “You fell asleep.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“You begged for this dick and knocked out right when I was about to give it to you.”

Your eyes widened. “WHAT?”

Donghyuck snickered, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Didn’t think you were the snoring type.”

Your mortification doubled. “I don’t snore!”

“How would you know?”

“How would I not know?”

He only grinned, flopping back against the pillows. “Why don’t you stay a little longer and I’ll tell you all about it?”

Before you could wriggle away, he pulled you in tighter, his grip warm and firm, lips dangerously close to your ear.

You stayed like that for a while, tangled in the sheets, wrapped in his warmth. The slow rise and fall of his chest against your back was almost lulling, the quiet morning stretching between you.

“How did we…” you paused, hesitating. “When did we leave the yacht?”

“I brought you here after you passed out.”

“Did we really not do it?” you asked again, voice softer this time.

Donghyuck groaned. “Stop. I’m already annoyed about it as it is.”

You bit back a laugh, twisting in his arms until you were facing him. His eyes were still close, but your movement made him crack one open, dark and heavy with sleep as they locked onto yours.

You tilted your head slightly. “How about doing it now?”

That seemed to wake him up in an instant. His eyes dragged over your face, lingering on your lips as his signature smirk appeared. “I know I’m irresistible, but I didn’t think you’d become this desperate for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

Then you kissed him. Donghyuck didn’t even hesitate, flipping you onto your back as he deepened it, his hands already sliding down your sides, warm and possessive. 

Somewhere between breaths, he pulled away just enough to murmur against your lips, “Just a warning. I’m not very gentle.”

You smirked, fingers twisting into his hair. “Promises.”

“Oh,” he chimed, impressed. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” he added, chuckling as he dipped to kiss you again.

His laughter melted into the kiss, deep and rich, like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. And knowing Donghyuck, he was. He loved this, he’d wanted this for so long. Now he’s teasing, pushing and pulling, all while enjoying the way your breath hitched when he touched you just right.

His hands roamed freely, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, then lower, pressing into your inner thigh but not touching it just yet. His lips explored the sensitive parts of your ear, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. Each kiss left an imprint that would not only brand your skin, but would most definitely leave a mark on your soul too. Every movement felt like he was testing, learning exactly how to unravel you.

“You’re quiet,” he mused. His eyes, dark and half-lidded, swept over your face like he was savoring every little flicker of emotion you were making. “Second thoughts?”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unbothered. “No.”

His smirk deepened. “Then what’s got you so shy?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but his fingers teased at your sex, sliding up once, just enough to make you shiver in anticipation and need.

He was waiting. He wanted you to squirm first.

You swallowed, pulse racing faster as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m not—”

Donghyuck hummed, cutting you off as he firmly pressed against your clit. “You sure?”

His fingers pressed harder, his eyes glimmering as he watched the way your breath hitched. “So bold and sexy when you ask for it, but the second I touch you, you get all shy on me.” His finger traced your folds, making you bite your lips to stifle a gasp. “It’s cute.”

You scoffed, trying to look unaffected despite the desire that was starting to engulf you. “You talk too much.”

He grinned. “And yet you keep kissing me.”

To prove his point, he leaned in again, capturing your lips. He kissed you like he wanted you breathless, like he wanted to hear every little sound you made. You barely had time to think before he shifted, pressing closer, the heat of him sinking into your skin.

Donghyuck’s hand slid to your thigh, all the way back to your cunt, his thumb stroking absently over it once he’d cupped it. He didn’t rush—just watched you, waiting, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Your breath came uneven as you held his gaze. “Lee Donghyuck, I swear to god, if you keep this up, I’ll—”

His lips were on yours before you could finish, swallowing your words with a deep, satisfied hum. And just like that, you lost yourself to him again. His fingers toyed with your sex—pressing, pinching, going in and out with the precision of someone adept at this kind of thing. You couldn’t even let out a sound with his lips ravaging yours.

“Ready, princess?” he whispered in your ear, and you hadn’t even fully processed it yet when you felt the sharp, unmistakable sensation of his manhood sliding into you.

You gasped loudly, surprised in the best way. You could feel it—all of it, in its entirety—the delightful stretch, the tingles spreading through your nerves and awakening your entire being.

Your nails dragged lightly up his spine, just enough to make him shiver. His response was surprising—a sharp inhale, the slight flex of his dick inside you. You realized then that he wasn’t as composed as he appeared to be, with his brows twitching ever so slightly as he eased himself into you.

“Hyuck,” you breathed, searching his face.

Donghyuck forced a laugh, leaning down to kiss you again. “I knew it,” he said against your lips, grinning. 

“Knew what?” you whispered back, your breath hitching when he rutted his hips slowly.

“It’s so much better than in my head.” His weight pressed you into the mattress, one hand braced beside your head, and the other keeping your legs open. He was everywhere—his scent, his heat, the drag of his hips against yours. There was nothing careful about it, nothing soft.

At some point, the stimulation got so overwhelming that you had to push him back in a futile attempt to regain control of your own body.

“Relax,” Donghyuck whispered, his voice like velvet. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine. “You asked for this, didn’t you?”

You swallowed hard, unable to look at him, but he wasn’t having that. He caught your chin, tilting your face toward him. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, filled with something that made your cunt clench against him.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased. His lips curved into a smirk as he felt the way your body tensed at his words. “What happened, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

You exhaled shakily. “Shut up.”

A low chuckle. “Not a chance.” He moved his hips again, thrusts both slow and heavy, like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you. 

You exhaled sharply, covering your mouth to stop yourself from moaning. Donghyuck took your hands and held them tightly, pressing them on the mattress above your head.

“Don’t be shy, love. Let’s hear you sing,” he lilted, ramming harder and faster, making you moan and whimper louder. “I like hearing you like this. All breathless. All mine.”

You were reeling, spiraling deeper down into the vice of his cock. Each thrust was sending so much pleasure through your body that you feared you’d levitate—you actually thought you would if you don’t hold onto something, anything.

But when you tried to free your hands from his grip, Donghyuck only tightened his hold until your wrists started to hurt. And even the pain of being restrained was delightful, sending you further up the clouds and turning you into a mumbling, whimpering, moaning mess.

“Look at you,” he murmured, gaze dragging over your face, down to your parted lips. “So fucking beautiful.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more dangerous. “You like this, don’t you?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, but the way your body arched into his and your hips bucked for more said enough.

“Yeah,” he hummed in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought,” he added, shifting his pace from fast to languid, and then faster again with heavy thrusts that made the bed shake.

“Hyuck,” you breathed out, mouth gaping open and your eyes rolling back.

He laughed, low and smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Then, just to be a menace, he stopped, pulling back slightly to watch you squirm. His fingers played with your nipple, and he focused on your neck for a moment, sucking and smooching while his hand kneaded your boob. It was pleasant in itself, but you couldn’t ignore the obvious emptiness between your legs.

“Donghyuck, put it back inside,” you whined, your voice both pleading and annoyed.

Donghyuck chuckled darkly. “You’re so impatient.”

“And you’re—” You sucked in a breath as he pushed his dick back into you. You glared. He was enjoying this way too much—watching you melt under him, forcing you to beg him for it.

So you did the only thing you could do. You tugged your hands free and kissed him hard, knocking him off balance just enough to flip him onto his back. He let out a surprised grunt, but the shock barely lasted a second before he was grinning up at you, hands already sliding down your thighs as you straddled his hips.

“That’s cute,” he mused, fingers pressing into your skin. “Taking control like the bold woman that you are.”

Your nails dragged down his chest, slow and teasing. “You don’t like that?”

“Me? Oh, I love that,” he replied, his hands flexed on your thighs. “Show me what you’re made of, princess."

Your breath caught. He dared you to. “I hate when you call me that,” you smirked, moving your hips slowly, steadily, his dick filling you up deliciously.

You leaned down, letting your lips graze his jaw, his throat, tasting the heat of his skin. His pulse was steady beneath your lips, but when you bounced your hips against his, his breath would hitch, fingers tightening against your hips.

Then, in an instant, he moved. A sharp gasp left you as he flipped you back onto the mattress, pinning you beneath him once more. The room spun for half a second, and then he was there again, hovering over you, lips curved in that annoyingly attractive smirk.

“Cute,” he murmured. “But not today, princess. I’ll let you have your fun next time.”

He kissed you then, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to ruin you. His words didn’t stop, not even between breaths, not even when his thrusts became erratic and relentless, setting every nerve in your body on fire.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, lips grazing the corner of your mouth. “So fucking perfect.”

Every touch, every word pulled you deeper under his spell. He was guiding you, coaxing you, drawing out every little reaction like he was trying to study and remember them.

And when your breath hitched, when your body trembled from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all, he smiled against your skin. It was sudden and dizzying, like losing control and finding it at the same time. Your muscles tensed, hands clawing at his shoulders desperately.

“That’s it,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Let it go, princess. Don’t be shy.”

He rammed harder and faster, riding your high while chasing his own. You lost control of your own voice, screaming and moaning out his name as he drove you further to the edge.

Just as you felt like you’d lose your mind from the intensity of it all, the world suddenly stopped spinning. Donghyuck fell on top of you, his weight slowly bringing you back to your senses. For a moment there was only the sound of breathing and groaning, both of you still a little lost in the haze of what had just happened.

Then Donghyuck spoke. “How was that?”

You scoffed, pushing him off of you. Donghyuck let himself fall on the bed beside you, watching you with a satisfied smirk on his face. He looked tired, and oddly attractive, with his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and that ever-present smirk on his lips.

He reached to push the stray hairs out of your face, gathering them in his fingers and bringing them to his nose. “You’re pretty like this.”

Heat flared in your cheeks, and Donghyuck noticed because of course, he did. His grin turned wicked. “You blushing?”

“No.”

He hummed, thoroughly unconvinced as he leaned in and brushed his lips against your ear. “Liar.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and he felt it, because he laughed again—soft, smug, entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s okay. I think it’s cute.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so—”

“Charming? Handsome? Completely irresistible? Incredibly good in bed?” You glared at him, and he just grinned, tilting his head. “If you have a complaint, I’m all ears.”

He was impossible. But he was also looking at you like he wanted you, like he needed you, and you had never felt so dizzy off someone’s attention before.

You huffed. “Just—kiss me again.”

Donghyuck let out a satisfied breath. “As you wish,” he murmured, and then he did.

It was almost noon when you stirred awake, still in Donghyuck’s suite, still sore from the morning’s events. The space beside you was cold, and the sheets rumpled, but you didn’t have time to wonder where he’d gone before the balcony door swung open.

Donghyuck stepped inside, looking annoyingly fresh—showered, well-dressed, sunglasses perched on his nose. He spotted you sitting up and grinned.

“You’re up?” He pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them onto a nearby chair. “Good. Let’s get you dressed and ready.”

You blinked at him, still groggy. He strolled over, settling onto the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. His gaze roamed over you with something like admiration, but mostly smug satisfaction. “I’m taking you out. Exploring, shopping, some fun.”

“Why?” you mumbled, leaning against his chest, still half-asleep.

Donghyuck chuckled, brushing a hand down your back. “To reward you, of course.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t pull away just yet. “For what?”

He tilted his head, grinning. “That pussy was immaculate. I consider it a great honor to have experienced it, so you deserve a treat.”

You snapped upright and glared at him. “You’re treating me because I had sex with you?”

He nodded, completely unbothered. “Yeah. Why?”

“Don’t you think that’s objectifying me a little too much?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “So?”

Your mouth fell open. “So?”

Donghyuck laughed, amused by your outrage. “Listen, princess. If you’re expecting me to say I love you after what happened this morning, don’t count on it. That might’ve worked for you before, but I don’t give my heart out that easily.”

Your irritation flared into something hotter. “What? That’s not even—” You cut yourself off with an exasperated exhale before grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it at him. “Get the fuck out.”

His grin widened. “This is my room.”

You shot to your feet. “Then I’ll get the fuck out.”

Before you could storm off, Donghyuck caught your waist and pulled you back onto the bed, pressing you into the mattress with a slow, deliberate kiss. It was deep, teasing, like he was daring you to stay mad at him. When he pulled away, he was smirking again, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

“If you don’t want to go,” he murmured, “just say so. We can stay here, and I can repay you in other ways.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. My legs are weak and I have no energy.”

He hummed, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. “Then I guess we’re going shopping.”

That was it. You shoved him off you, sitting up with a scowl. “I’m not some whore who needs to be paid, Hyuck.”

The words left your mouth before you could soften them, but you didn’t regret them. You stood up, grabbing your dress and purse from the floor, before reaching for the robe you’d left in the bathroom.

Donghyuck sat up, confusion flickering across his face. “Hey, come on now, princess. I didn’t say you were.”

“Then stop with this repayment bullshit and leave me alone,” you snapped.

For a moment, he just stared at you, completely caught off guard. You held his gaze, sharp and unwavering, before turning on your heel and storming toward the door. Even as he called after you, you didn’t look back. The door slammed shut behind you.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the sharpness in your eyes not faltering while he looked genuinely shocked by the turn of events. With a huff, you walked toward the door, not sparing him a glance even as he called after you. You slammed the door shut in his face and let out a sigh.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath, exhaling sharply as you made your way back to your suite.

Your sister had just stepped out of the shower when you walked in. She took one look at your expression—the furrowed brows, the lingering frustration—and blinked.

“Did something happen?”

You ran a hand through your hair. “You’re not gonna ask where I was last night?”

“I knew you went to a yacht party.”

“Yeah, and I’m coming back just now.”

She shrugged, grabbing some clothes from the closet. “You texted me this morning, didn’t you?”

Right. You had. Just a quick I’m fine. Safe.

“What happened?” she asked, glancing at you. “Was he a jerk?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah. A big one.”

You didn’t tell your sister much about what happened, and thankfully, she didn’t press. She seemed to understand, offering only a knowing glance before changing the subject.

“Come have lunch with us. The person I came here to meet,” she clarified, checking her phone. “Lee Taeyong. He’s the one I’ve been negotiating with.”

You didn’t have much of an appetite, but sitting alone in your room didn’t sound appealing either. So you agreed.

The restaurant was upscale but relaxed, with a bright open-air terrace overlooking the ocean. The salty breeze and chatter of well-dressed patrons made the atmosphere feel light despite the heaviness still lingering in your chest. That was where you met Lee Taeyong.

You’d expected an older man, maybe middle-aged with graying hair and a sharp suit. But instead, the man who stood when you and your sister approached was young. Around your sister’s age. He was handsome, not in an intimidating way, but in a way that made you understand why your sister had made an effort to dress up a little today.

He extended a hand as soon as he saw you. “You must be her little sister.”

You shook it. His grip was firm and warm. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, giving you a quick, assessing glance. “I’ve heard about you.”

You shot your sister a look. “Oh?”

“She told me you’re in college abroad,” Taeyong said, smiling as he sat back down. “That must be exciting.”

“I guess.” You slid into your seat, not sure what else to say.

“All my siblings went abroad for college, except me, so I’m a little jealous of you,” he chimed, smiling.

He was polite, friendly, and surprisingly accommodating. At one point, he even offered to upgrade your suite, but your sister waved him off with a smile. “That’s so nice of you, sir, but we’re fine. We’re well taken cared of.”

“It’s Mykonos. Surely you lovely ladies would love to have some privacy while you’re here,” he said, his tone suggestive but not prying.

Your sister laughed lightly. “I think my sister might. We’ve been here three days and she’s already having a blast.”

“Ah, youth,” Taeyong remarked, and then the two of them laughed heartily.

You simply smiled, looking away as you took a sip of your drink. “You guys are not that old,” you murmured to yourself, finding their banter amusing.

Lunch was pleasant, though most of the conversation was between Taeyong and your sister. They talked about business—negotiations, investment plans, projected growth. You barely followed along, focusing instead on your food. Every now and then, they’d bring you into the conversation with a casual remark or a question, but you mostly just listened.

After lunch, Taeyong excused himself to attend another meeting, leaving you and your sister alone at the table.

“Nice guy,” you commented, swirling the last of your drink.

Your sister smirked. “He is. And he’s impressive, too.”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly as she added, “He’s got an insane background. Top of his class, multiple investments, speaks like five languages. And—” she gestured around, “—this hotel? His family owns it.”

You raised an eyebrow. Of course he wasn’t just an investor. Guys like him didn’t just invest in places like this. They owned them.

“Isn’t he from South Korea?”

Your sister shrugged. “He is. Don’t even get me started. They have more hotels in Korea and hotel business is not even their family’s main business.”

“Oh, damn. He’s a nepo baby.”

“Of course, he is. South Korea is big on conglomerates and dynasties. But the best thing about Lee Taeyong is that he’s really, extremely capable.”

Your sister finished the last of her wine and set her glass down with a satisfied sigh. “So, wanna go shopping?”

You made a face. “I just ate.”

She laughed. “Perfect time to walk it off, then.” With no better plans, you sighed and got up to follow her.

The streets of Mykonos were lively as usual—tourists drifting in and out of boutiques, the occasional rev of a motorbike, and the distant sound of a street musician playing for spare change. You strolled beside your sister, the sun still warm against your skin despite the cooling breeze.

Your sister, on the other hand, was in her element, scanning the shop windows with a sharp eye. She had already bought three dresses, a pair of sandals, and some accessories, yet she showed no signs of slowing down. You, on the other hand, had only picked up a couple of things—a flowy linen top and a bracelet you grabbed at the last minute just to avoid looking completely uninterested.

It wasn’t until she pulled you into another boutique that she finally took a good look at you, her gaze narrowing slightly before her lips curled into a smirk.

“Are those—” She leaned in, squinting at the side of your neck.

You didn’t need to follow her gaze to know what she had spotted. The heat of embarrassment crept up your spine as you instinctively raised a hand to cover it. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” she echoed, raising a brow. “You’ve been back for a few hours, and I just now notice these? Damn. Whoever he was, he was thorough.”

You groaned, swatting at her arm, but she only laughed, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“It’s temporary, so is he,” you muttered, stepping away and flipping through a rack of dresses just to avoid looking at her. “Won’t happen again.”

She hummed, unconvinced. “Sure.”

You ignored her, pretending to be very interested in a dress you weren’t even planning to buy. But you could feel her watching you, that knowing amusement still on her face. By the time you returned to your hotel, the sky had started to darken. Shopping bags filled the bed, most of them your sister’s.

“I can’t believe this is all you got.” She glanced at the two small bags you placed on the nightstand.

“I didn’t need anything else,” you shrugged.

“Well, I need a drink,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. “I’m going out.”

You blinked. “You are?”

“What, did you think I came to Mykonos just for work?” She shot you a grin. “There’s life outside business, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was something oddly reassuring about seeing her loosen up.

“Don’t wait up,” she added, slipping into the bathroom to freshen up.

You didn’t. You went straight to sleep after a quick shower. It surprised you how quickly you were knocked out, realizing it only when you woke up to the blinding sunshine pouring into your suite. You pushed yourself up, blinking at the unfamiliar room.

Right, Mykonos. You keep forgetting that.

After washing your face and changing out of your pajamas, you ordered room service and then plopped onto the balcony table. You’d seen it every day for the last four days, but the scenery before you never failed to take your breath away. So serene and beautiful.

Breakfast soon arrived and some hotel staff set the table for you. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing familiar voices until the FaceTime call connected and Karina’s face appeared on screen.

“Oh my god, finally!” she exclaimed, before turning to Giselle and Ningning, who were squeezed into the frame. “She’s alive!”

“Barely,” you muttered, propping the phone against the pitcher so you could use your hands to eat.

“Long face? I thought you’re supposed to be having the time of your life there?” Giselle teased.

You huffed. “Yeah, well. Guess who’s here?”

The three of them waited, and when you didn’t immediately answer, Ningning’s eyes widened. “No way. Jeno?”

“What? No,” you scoffed. “Worse. Donghyuck.”

All three of them gawked at you through the screen. Karina choked on whatever she had been drinking, Giselle let out a laugh of disbelief, and Ningning practically gasped.

“You’re joking.”

“I wish.”

“You mean the Lee Donghyuck we know? The same one who—” Giselle trailed off, exchanging looks with the others. “—could barely afford a proper meal back in freshman year?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed.

“And he’s vacationing in Greece?” Karina asked, still looking skeptical.

“I know, right?” you exhaled, shaking your head. 

Giselle narrowed her eyes at you through the screen. “Did he scam someone? Win the lottery? Make a deal with the devil?”

“I was thinking sugar mama,” Ningning deadpanned.

That actually made you laugh, though the question had been lingering in your own mind as well. Donghyuck in Mykonos of all places. In a luxury suite. Wearing designer sunglasses like they were disposable. None of it made sense. And yet, here you were.

“I have no clue how he could afford it, but he’s here. And, uh… something else happened, too.” The three of them leaned in, sensing the shift in your tone.

“What is it?” Karina pressed.

You hesitated, biting your lip and poking at your food for a second. Then, deciding to rip the band-aid off, you said, “I slept with him.”

Dead silence. Then—

“WHAT?!” The collective scream nearly blew your eardrums out. You winced, backing away slightly as their voices erupted all at once.

“When?!” Karina demanded.

“How?!” Giselle’s eyes were impossibly wide.

“WHY?!” Ningning practically shrieked.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, it had better be,” Ningning exclaimed, still looking utterly baffled. “Lee Donghyuck in Mykonos, and you having sex with him? That’s a wild turn of events, babe.”

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Karina said, narrowing her eyes. “You—who literally hates his guts—somehow ended up in bed with him?”

You frowned. “I don’t hate him.”

“Babe,” Ningning scoffed. “You called him a menace to society at least once a week.”

“Look, I know it sounds insane, okay? But it just happened,” you said, sighing.

“Just happened?” Giselle echoed, eyes sharp. “Like you tripped and fell on his dick?”

“No, but, basically,” you muttered. Giselle burst into laughter, while Ningning covered her mouth in sheer disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Karina muttered, rubbing her forehead. “You actually slept with Lee Donghyuck?”

You sighed again. “Yeah. I told you. I did.”

“But why?” she demanded. “Since when did you even look at him like that?”

Giselle snorted. “Guess all his efforts to sweep her off her feet finally paid off. Talk about tenacity.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” said Karina, glancing at your other friends. “I thought the whole flirting thing wasn’t serious. Like he’s just doing it to annoy you.”

Before they could bombard you with more questions, a sudden knock at the door made you glance up. You barely registered the sound, assuming it was your sister who had spent the night outside and was finally returning.

“Hold on, I think my sister’s back,” you mumbled, striding across the room to open the door.

But when you swung the door open, it wasn’t your sister standing there.  It was Donghyuck. He had a bouquet of fresh, colorful flowers in his hand and that signature smirk playing on his lips. For a second, your brain short-circuited.

Ningning’s voice echoed through the speaker, “Babe, where are you?”

You met Donghyuck’s gaze, his eyes full of mischief, and his posture relaxed like he had all the time in the world. Without a word, you ran back to the balcony to hang up the call.

“Good morning,” Donghyuck greeted, following you into the suite without waiting for permission.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shutting the door behind him.

He turned to face you, holding up the bouquet like it explained everything. “Brought you flowers.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

He blinked. “Because girls love flowers?”

Your deadpan stare did nothing to shake his confidence. Instead, he took a slow step forward, lowering his voice just slightly. “And because I figured showing up empty-handed might not work in my favor after yesterday.”

You eyed him suspiciously, ignoring the way your heart picked up its pace. “You think flowers are gonna help your case?”

Donghyuck grinned, setting them down on the table. “Nah, but they might get me in the door. And look, I’m already inside.”

You rolled your eyes. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected, tilting his head. “Come on, princess. Would it kill you to say thank you?”

You exhaled sharply, but despite yourself, a tiny smirk threatened to tug at your lips. “Depends. What exactly are you here for?”

Donghyuck’s smirk deepened as he stepped closer. “Would you believe me if I said I just missed you?”

You deadpanned so he stepped back and laughed. “Of course, you won’t. Okay. Here’s the thing…”

He picked up the flowers again and handed it to you. “I’m sorry if my actions offended you. I’ve thought about it, and I realized how that may have sounded. But I, genuinely, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. I really just wanted to take you out and show you around.”

You hesitated, your arms still crossed, your eyes narrowing as you studied him. Donghyuck’s confident smile wavered slightly, but he kept his ground, watching you with eyes of hope and impatience.

“Come on, princess. I’m trying here,” he said, voice light but with an underlying sincerity that made you pause.

The silence stretched between you, and you bit your lip, internally fighting the urge to cave. But despite your annoyance, you couldn’t deny that this may be unnecessary.

“Fine,” you muttered finally, uncrossing your arms. “I’ll admit, I might’ve... overreacted a bit.”

Donghyuck’s expression softened just slightly, though his grin still held that mischievous spark. He took a small step forward. “Not at all, I totally get it. We could’ve just talked about it properly, though. No harm in a little open communication, you see.”

“I know,” you pouted, looking away and crossing your arms again. “I accept your apology. Let’s get over it.”

“Fine with me,” he said, stretching the flowers toward you.

You took them and walked toward the patio table, where you carefully removed the old flowers from the vase to replace them. While you were busy with that, your mind replayed the events of the morning. The rawness of what happened between you two was still fresh, and it hit you all over again with a familiar heat prickling your skin—pleasant, euphoric.

Then came the familiar stubbornness that had fueled your earlier outburst. It was probably because you told yourself, over and over, it would never, ever happen. You would never, ever get too close to Lee Donghyuck, let alone sleep with him. But here you were, caught in his charming smile and flamboyant personality.

You felt his warmth behind you, followed by his arms wrapping around you. He kissed your cheek and took a peek at your face. “Wanna go to the beach with me? Today’s weather is very lovely.”

“Hmm?” he prompted when you didn’t respond.

You took a deep breath and sighed, turning to face him. His arms stayed wrapped around you as you reached up to his shoulder, patting down his shirt. Donghyuck’s expression faltered slightly, but before he could say anything, you pulled him toward you, closing the space and kissing him slowly and deeply, an apology of sorts.

When you finally pulled away, he let out a soft chuckle, his hands resting at your waist. “Good. Now we’re on the same page.”

Donghyuck scooped you up in one smooth motion, lifting you off your feet effortlessly. You gasped in surprise, but then he kissed you again, his lips soft but insistent.

Pulling back just enough to look at you, he said, “By the way, how would you like to join me in a swanky party full of pretentious rich people tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, reminded of the yacht party you went to last time. “No.”

He chuckled, that cocky grin back in full force. “It’s a decent one, this time. Just downstairs. Boring, and slow, but with good alcohol. No drugs or naked people making out beside you.”

You gave it a good thought. “Can I still say no?”

“Of course you can, princess. But if it helps you make a decision, you should know I’d be glad if you joined me.”

“Well,” you said, your smirk widening as you placed your hands on his chest, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

He set you back down to your feet. “Alright. I’ll have a dress sent up for you.”

“No, it’s okay. I brought dresses.”

Donghyuck deadpanned. “Can’t I just send you a dress, princess? It’s not a payment and I won’t get you something too expensive, so can I just do that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why? Are you scared that I’d go there in an ugly dress?”

He laughed mockingly. “First of all, you’d look great even in a garbage bag, so it’s impossible for that to happen. Second, I really just wanna do this for you, princess.”

You grimaced. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What? Princess?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded with a pout. “Because I want to. It suits you.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, turning to the closet. “Just take me to the beach.”

Came nightfall, Donghyuck arrived to pick you up, grinning at the sight of you in the red dress he had sent up a few hours ago. He was proud of himself too for getting your measurements right without asking you beforehand.

“I touched you thoroughly to know your exact size,” he said, eyes fixed on your busts.

You shoved your purse in his face. “Do you ever stop thinking gross thoughts, Lee Donghyuck?”

Laughing, Donghyuck took your hand from his face and intertwined it with his. “It’s not gross, love. It’s sexy.”

You took the stairs down, walking from your suite to the hotel’s grand ballroom where the ball is being held. The moon was bright up in the sky, adding to the warm glow of the lampposts around you and making your surroundings more majestic. You glanced sideways at Donghyuck, who was quietly leading you down the stairs with your hand on his arm.

“What are you doing here, Hyuck?”

He glanced at you briefly. “I’m here to take you to a ball.”

“No, I mean, here here. In Mykonos. With a nice suite, getting invited to these luxurious parties, and knowing all these people. What’s the deal?” you asked, genuinely curious.  “I mean, back at campus, I was under the impression that you were… homeless,” you added, feeling sheepish all of a sudden.

Donghyuck blinked at you, a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve seen you mooch off of Mark Lee. Generous guy, letting you crash in his apartment and all. I just figured—”

Donghyuck burst into laughter, the sound carefree and light. “Homeless and mooching off Mark Lee? That’s hilarious.” He shook his head, still grinning. “You’re not wrong about the mooching part, though.”

“So you’re not homeless?” you teased, but he just waved you off.

“Nah, I just didn’t bother getting myself a flat. Too much work,” he said, shaking his head. “Mark and I are cousins so he doesn’t mind. Except now that he has a girlfriend. Suddenly, he wants his space,” he added, casually dropping the bombshell.

You stopped walking, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Wait, what? You and Mark are cousins?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah. We literally have the same last name.”

You stared at him for a second, still processing the fact that Donghyuck, the carefree guy who seemed to drift through life, was related to Mark Lee, the campus’s ‘smart boy’ and all-around golden child. 

“Well then, sue me for having common sense and thinking that not everyone with the same last name is related,” you muttered, recovering from the shock.

Donghyuck smirked, as if he’d expected that. “Obviously, not everyone is. But Mark and I are.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Right? It would be funny if you were related to every Lee out there. I mean, that would be a big ass family.”

Donghyuck just watched you, his fond smile never faltering. 

Then, you suddenly added, “Imagine if you were related to Lee Taeyong. Now that’s something.”

“Lee Taeyong?” Donghyuck repeated, sounding slightly confused.

“Yeah. He’s the CEO of some company, I forgot which one. My sister’s here to close a business deal with him or something,” you explained, glancing sideways at him. “He’s really cool. And very handsome too.”

Donghyuck hummed, not looking particularly impressed. “I’m sure he is.”

You leaned in, a little more adamant now, “He really is. I thought he’d be some boring middle-aged CEO guy, but he’s into F1 and even makes music. Speaks a lot of languages too. The guy’s a legit Renaissance man.”

Donghyuck’s smirk widened, amused by your expressions. “Yeah, but he hasn’t done any of that in the past year, so he’s pretty stagnant.”

“What?” you blurted, completely caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Donghyuck looked at you with a slight shrug. “He’s been buried in work lately, so he’s gotten a little rusty. Not exactly the Renaissance man you’re picturing.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of it. Your mouth opened as the realization slowly crept in. “No way.”

Donghyuck didn’t even flinch at your reaction. He just shrugged again, the same casual indifference written all over his face. 

“Are you and Lee Taeyong—”

Before you could finish your question, you found yourselves standing at the grand entrance to the ballroom, the sound of the party flooding your ears. The grand chandelier above sparkled as guests drifted in and out of the ornate space. Donghyuck grinned at you, clearly enjoying the way the evening had been unfolding.

“Well, here we are,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Ready to meet the ‘pretentious rich people’?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “I guess.”

He nudged you playfully, his arm brushing against yours as you both entered the ballroom. “Don’t worry, princess. It’ll be a night to remember.”

As you stepped into the ballroom, you took in the sophisticated air around you. People were conversing in groups, champagne glasses were clinking, all while a soft symphony played in the background. The guests, dressed in designer suits and elegant gowns, moved about with an effortless grace that made it clear they belonged there.

You turned to Donghyuck, ready to make some remark about how this was far from the kind of scene you pictured him thriving in, but before you could, a familiar voice called out from across the room.

“There you are,” your sister called out, making her way over. She gave you a quick once-over and complimented you before turning to Donghyuck. “You must be Lee Donghyuck.”

“I am. Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck replied, shaking hands with your sister.

“Nice to meet you too,” your sister chimed. “I’ll leave her in your care tonight, okay?”

Before Donghyuck could reply, another voice joined in.

“Haechan.” You looked up just in time to see none other than Lee Taeyong approaching. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, the kind tailored to perfection, exuding the confidence of someone who owned the room without needing to announce it.

Donghyuck, in contrast, had his hands casually tucked in his pockets, his ever-present smirk still in place.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck greeted, the term slipping out effortlessly as he extended a hand. But instead of shaking it, Taeyong pulled him into a brief but firm hug before stepping back.

Your brows shot up. Hyung?

“How are you finding Mykonos so far?” Taeyong asked, studying Donghyuck with a knowing look.

Donghyuck grinned. “Having fun, obviously. Thanks for bringing me along.”

Your sister looked mildly surprised by the exchange, glancing at you inquiringly but you were confused too so you just shrugged.

Taeyong nodded. “Good. Thought you could use a little vacation.”

“You’re too generous, really,” Donghyuck said with mock sincerity, pressing a hand to his chest. “It’s almost touching.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, his gaze flickered to you. “Good to see you again. I hope you enjoy the evening.”

You decided that you’d be the one to ask the question. “Okay, so I’m missing something here. You two know each other?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “You could say that.”

Taeyong sighed, deciding to be the one to fill in the blanks. “I’m Haechan’s brother.” That piece of information landed like a bomb in your brain. Then he turned to your sister and said, “Shall we?”

You watched them walk further into the party, leaving you and Donghyuck by the entrance. When they were finally out of earshot, you turned to Donghyuck, arms crossed. “Brother?”

Donghyuck chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “I did tell you Mark and I are cousins. Guess I forgot to mention that that guy there is my older brother.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. “You—what—” You turned to Taeyong in disbelief, watching them mingle with the crowd. “He’s your brother?”

You turned back to Donghyuck, trying to make sense of it. “You’re telling me you’re actually rich rich?”

Donghyuck snorted. “Define rich rich.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “This is giving me a headache.”

The entire time you’d known Donghyuck, you had never—not once—gotten the impression that he came from money. Sure, he was charming enough to talk his way into any situation, but you had always assumed he was just a broke, freeloading menace who somehow managed to land on his feet every time. Now, standing here, you were suddenly realizing that maybe you’d been playing a completely different game than you thought.

Donghyuck, ever the picture of unbothered confidence, just shot you a wink. “Come on. I’m here to work.”

For the next hour, you played the role of an observer, sipping champagne and watching Donghyuck—Haechan, as these people called him—navigate the room like it was second nature. He charmed investors, shook hands with CEOs, and exchanged pleasantries with people whose last names probably meant something in this world. But you noticed the slight tension in his smile, the glint of something close to boredom in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

Not you, though. You were looking. Every now and then, he would lean toward you, his voice dropping just low enough for only you to hear.

“This guy’s been talking about stocks for ten minutes straight. Please put me out of my misery.”

“I swear on my life, the dude in the navy suit just namedropped Elon Musk in an actual conversation. Do you see what I deal with?”

Despite his grumbling, Donghyuck handled it all flawlessly. A smooth word here, a perfectly timed joke there. He knew exactly when to nod, when to feign interest, when to switch gears and talk about things they wanted to hear. It was effortless. But you saw it for what it was, a performance.

So when it looked like there was no one else for him to greet and he turned to you with that familiar gleam in his eye, you already knew what was coming. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, fingers grazing your wrist.

You didn’t hesitate. He intertwined his fingers through yours and pulled you away from the glittering ballroom, slipping past guests and ducking into the night.

The warm Mykonos air wrapped around you as you ran, your laughter echoing in your wake as if you were kids sneaking out past curfew. The party faded behind you, replaced by the gentle sound of waves meeting the shore.

By the time you reached the beach, you were breathless, giddy. Kicking off your shoes, you felt the cool, damp sand under your feet, the hem of your dress brushing against it as you twirled around, feeling lighter than you had all night. Donghyuck caught you mid-spin, pulling you against him. His arms snaked around your waist, his warm breath fanning your cheek.

“You looked good in there,” he murmured, his lips pressing on your cheek. “But you look so much better out here.”

You tilted your head, smirking. “Again with your lines.”

“Aw man, is it not working?” He stole a kiss, slow and teasing, before pulling away just as you started to chase after him.

It turned into a game—kisses stolen between laughter, between whispered jokes, between grains of sand sticking to your skin. At some point, you reached the dock, the wooden planks cool under your bare feet. Small yachts and sailboats swayed gently with the waves, their white decks gleaming under the moonlight.

Donghyuck stopped in front of a particular sailboat, glancing at you with a raised brow. “Ever been on one of these?”

You shook your head, making him grin. “Then let me be your first.”

Offering his hand, he helped you step aboard, steadying you as you found your footing. The boat rocked slightly, the sea stretching wide and endless around you.

“Is this yours?” you asked, not even second-guessing yourself now. He was wealthy, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he owned a boat or two.

“It’s my dad’s. He gave it to me but I haven’t used it much because I don’t know how to.”

“He didn’t teach you?” you questioned out of genuine curiosity, only to realize that it might hit a nerve.

“Businessman fathers don’t have time to teach, princess,” he replied, chuckling as he crouched in front of what appeared to be a console under the helm. He fished a key from his coat pocket and fiddled with the controls. A few seconds later, the sailboat engine started roaring. “There we go.”

“Are we going somewhere?” you asked, joining him there.

“Not too far. Just getting some privacy,” he replied, grinning. You narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

“I can see your ulterior motives very clearly, Hyuck.”

Oddly enough, Donghyuck didn’t try anything funny. He sailed the boat a few meters from the dock, anchoring just far enough to give you both some privacy. From where you stood, you could get a panoramic view of the iconic landscape before you, glittering and glowing under the night sky.

Donghyuck joined you at the bow, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you gently so you were face-to-face with him.

“Now, tell me, princess,” he asked, tilting his head. “Are you falling for me yet?”

You let out a soft laugh, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Donghyuck, this is not a romance.”

He shrugged. “You’re right,” he replied, grinning. “No love stories here.”

You both laughed, the sound carrying over the quiet waves. Then he added. “But you gotta admit, it’s quite romantic up here, no?”

You giggled. “Fine. It is.” And just like that, under the watchful moon, he kissed you again.

“I have a bed inside,” he whispered in your ear, his warm breath and the suggestion tickling your skin.

“You know, this would be more romantic if you could just calm your dick for once,” you teased, letting him kiss your neck.

He led you inside the cabin. It was small, dimly lit by the warm glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The rocking of the sailboat beneath you made everything feel untethered, like the night itself was swaying. You barely made it inside before Donghyuck’s lips were on yours again in a slow and indulgent kiss.

Your hands fumbled at each other, stripping away layers of clothing with breathless laughter. When the last of your clothes hit the floor, Donghyuck reached for his bag at the edge of the bed.

“I brought something you might find interesting,” he chimed.  He held up a small tin case, popping it open with a flick of his fingers. Inside, a row of round, pastel-colored pills sat neatly in place.

You knew exactly what they were. The same ones Luca and his friends had been passing around on the yacht a few nights ago. You had been curious then, idly wondering what it would feel like, how it would taste, how it would change things.

Donghyuck held out a pill between his fingers, watching you carefully. “You still wanna try?”

You hesitated for a second. Not out of fear, but because there was something exhilarating in knowing you were about to cross another line with him. But you trusted him. So you took it from his palm and placed it on your tongue.

He did the same, popping his own pill before cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

The effects crept in slowly, like warm water rising over your skin. At first, it was just a buzz beneath your flesh, a whisper in your nerves. But then it spread, warm and glowing, turning every breath into liquid gold.

The world seemed to slow down. Donghyuck’s lips traced over your jaw, your neck, down to your belly and it felt like his mouth was leaving heat trails in his wake, until he stopped between your legs. He pried your thighs open, holding them down as he buried his nose against your sex. And when he started using his mouth, every nerve in your body bloomed under his touch. The sheets under you were impossibly soft, while the dim lantern light cast shadows that stretched and warped like living things.

You whimpered and writhed, pleasure taking over your entire being. Your hands were numb, but they were gripping his hair tightly, tugging him forward and bucking your hips against his face as desperation took control of your senses.

And when your orgasm erupted, you let out a throaty moan, back arching and mouth gaping. Donghyuck appeared in your line of sight. His pupils were blown wide, dark, and endless, his lips parted just slightly. He looked at you like he was seeing something divine.

“This must be heaven,” he whispered, his voice drenched in honey, in heat.

“No, Hyuck.” Your fingers traced his collarbone, slow and lazy. “This is so much better.”

He grinned, a little dazed, a little drunk on you. “Totally,” he replied, laughter spilling between you as his lips found yours again.

And then everything unraveled slowly, beautifully, like waves rolling in and out. Every touch electrified your skin, every sigh stretched into infinity. You melted into him, into the warmth, into the way the night folded around you like a secret meant only for the two of you. Nothing else existed. Just this. Just him. Just the soft, glowing haze of pleasure that refused to end.

The afternoon light filtered in through the small cabin window, golden and hazy. You stirred awake, your body feeling warm, and weightless, like you were still caught somewhere between dreaming and waking. A slow breath, a stretch, and then the world registered clearly into view.

It was morning and you were still in the boat. Your phone was dead, its screen stubbornly black when you tried pressing the power button. With a groggy sigh, you pushed yourself upright, the sheets pooling around your waist. Donghyuck was nowhere to be seen.

That was when you felt the slow and rhythmic sway underneath you, different from the night before. The boat was moving. Frowning, you climbed out of bed, slipping on whatever clothes you could find before stepping out onto the deck.

Donghyuck stood at the helm, one hand lazily gripping the wheel as he guided the sailboat back toward the docks. The breeze ruffled his hair, the sunlight catching on his skin, making him look almost too picturesque for someone who was probably winging this whole thing. He must have heard your footsteps because he glanced over his shoulder and smirked.

“Look who finally decided to rejoin the living.”

You squinted against the light. “What time is it?”

“Noon,” he said, voice amused. “Figured I’d let you sleep. You looked like you needed it.”

You stretched with a groan before eyeing him suspiciously. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “Had to get us back to shore somehow.”

You sighed, leaning against the railing as you watched the island come into view. “My phone’s dead.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” he quipped. “Forces you to live in the moment.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could reply, he reached for your waist, pulling you into him with ease. The kiss he pressed to your lips was slow and sweet. When he pulled back, he looked a little too satisfied with himself.

“You always do that,” you muttered.

“What?” he grinned. “Kiss you? Or cut you off when you’re talking? Either way, I’m not sorry.”

You shoved at his shoulder, and he just laughed, turning back to the wheel.

“By the way,” he said, adjusting the course slightly, “I ordered room service in my suite. Figured you’d be hungry after last night.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at the water around you. “What, no fresh catch?”

Donghyuck snorted. “If I could fish too, I’d be entirely too perfect for this world. That’s not fair to other people.”

You shook your head. “Right, because you’re just so amazing and talented, aren’t you, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as the boat drifted closer to shore. You spotted a few handful of people standing on your spot at the docks. Squinting helped you recognize that one of them was your sister.

The moment your feet hit the dock, you knew you were in trouble. Your sister stood a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her sharp gaze locking onto you the second she spotted you. Next to her, Taeyong looked slightly more composed, but the tension in his posture made it clear that you were both in trouble.

Donghyuck exhaled beside you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You barely had time to react before your sister stormed up to you.

“Are you serious?” she snapped. “Your phone’s been dead for hours, you didn’t text me last night, and I had to find out from him—” she gestured toward Taeyong, “—that you weren’t missing, just being reckless?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but she wasn’t done. “Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you!”

“I’m fine,” you assured her quickly, hands raised in surrender. “I just—”

“Just disappeared without a word and left me to assume the worst?”

Okay, yeah. When she put it like that, it did sound bad. You glanced at Taeyong, who gave you a look that read as both unimpressed and relieved.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, had his hands shoved into his pockets, looking every bit the picture of someone who’d been through enough lectures in his life to know when to just take it. But your sister wasn’t about to let him off so easily.

“And you,” she turned on him now, eyes narrowing. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Donghyuck blinked. “In my defense, I did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing wrong? You took my sister out to god knows where without telling anyone—”

“She’s an adult,” Donghyuck pointed out, his tone almost amused. “She can make her own choices.”

“She also doesn’t think before she acts sometimes,” your sister shot back, exasperated.

You scoffed. “Hey.”

“She’s right,” Taeyong added mildly, looking at Donghyuck. “You could’ve at least made sure to let her know where you took her sister.”

You winced at your sister. “Okay, I was gonna text you, but my phone was dead.”

Your sister wasn’t impressed. “And you didn’t think to borrow one?”

Donghyuck nudged you. “That is a good point.”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting back a laugh. Your sister exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. “Look, I won’t tell you what you can and cannot do, okay? But please don’t disappear on me like that again.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “It won’t happen again. I’ll let you know next time.”

She huffed but seemed to relax slightly, the anger giving way to lingering concern. “Good.” Then, with one last glance between you and Donghyuck, she muttered, “You guys are unbelievable,” before turning away.

Taeyong stayed a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Tto Donghyuck, he said, “Try not to cause too much trouble.”

Donghyuck’s grin was mischievous. “Can’t make any promises.”

Taeyong just sighed, shaking his head as he followed after your sister.

Once they were out of earshot, Donghyuck let out a low whistle. “That went better than expected.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t say that. Your sister was right. I’m just glad I didn’t get banned from seeing you,” he said, wiggling his brows. “I’d call that a win.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in with a lazy smirk, you let him. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Mykonos swallowed you whole, pulled you under its spell, and refused to let go. Days bled into nights in a whirlwind of reckless and wild indulgence. It was the kind of summer you knew you’d never be able to recreate anywhere else.

You and Donghyuck did anything and everything. You spent hours tangled in hotel sheets, barely surfacing for air between kisses and tangled limbs. When you weren’t in bed, you found other places—a quiet corner in an art gallery where he pressed you against the wall, his lips trailing along your jaw as you struggled to keep your composure; the backseat of a borrowed car where you climbed onto his lap, his hand gripping your waist as you moved with urgency in a cramped space.

Some mornings started late, sunlight spilling through hotel curtains onto bare legs, skin still sticky with the aftermath of the night before. Other mornings started early—too early—because Donghyuck was shaking you awake, grinning like a devil as he pulled you out of bed for some ridiculous adventure.

One morning, you found yourself on the back of a rented scooter, clinging to him as he sped through Mykonos Town’s narrow, winding streets. He took sharp turns without warning, nearly tipping you both over more than once, but all you could do was shriek and laugh, your arms tightening around his waist. When he skidded to a stop near a cliffside just to “appreciate the view,” you smacked his arm, finding it not worth the danger.

Afternoons were spent stretched out on the warm sand of a private beach, the waves lapping at your toes while Donghyuck traced lazy circles on your thigh. Your sister and Taeyong sat under the shade of an umbrella, deep in discussion over numbers and contracts, completely oblivious to you and Donghyuck sneaking off into the water.

“You two are like teenagers,” your sister muttered when you returned, wet and glowing, Donghyuck shamelessly draping himself over you.

You just grinned, stealing his sunglasses and perching them on your nose. “Isn’t that the point?”

Summers in Mykonos meant rich kids and yacht parties. At another yacht party, this one even wilder than the last, you drank expensive champagne straight from the bottle, your bodies slick with sweat as you danced under the flashing neon lights. Donghyuck was in his element, standing at the center of it, laughing, dancing, getting shots poured straight into his mouth by some rich kid who looked equally as wasted.

You had no idea whose yacht it was, just that it was another friend of Donghyuck’s. He pulled you close, murmuring into your ear that you were the best thing about this entire trip.

“You keep up with me so well,” he mused at one point. “I’m impressed.”

You rolled your eyes but hooked a finger into his collar, pulling him closer. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

It was a blur after that—dizzy kisses, greedy hands, laughter and giggles against skin. You ended up in one of the lower cabins, skin-to-skin, lost in the high of it all.

Some nights were quieter, but no less intoxicating.

Like the time he dared you to break into a private infinity pool perched on the cliffs. You stripped down to your underwear, slipping into the cool water, laughing when Donghyuck cannonballed after you. He then swam behind you, pressing his chest on your back and undoing your bikini top.

“You know this is illegal, right?” you whispered, the stars reflected in his dark eyes.

“Only if we get caught,” he grinned, lips brushing your bare shoulder.

Later, you lay side by side on the pool’s edge, toes skimming the water, shoulders brushing. Donghyuck turned his head, watching you in the moonlight.

“You’re a bad girl,” he said softly, teasing.

You smirked, not looking away from the stars. “Oh, yeah? Well, you’re obsessed with this bad girl.”

And he was. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, touched you, and looked at you like this summer was something he never wanted to end.

“This isn’t a romance,” you muttered, because it was easier to say it before he could.

Donghyuck huffed out a laugh, tilting his head toward you. “You beat me to it by two seconds.”

It was an inside joke now—one you repeated like a charm to ward off whatever this was turning into. 

But you didn’t have to talk about relationships and statuses. You just kept moving, kept laughing, kept reaching for each other in the dark. You lived recklessly, selfishly, like the world outside this island didn’t exist. And maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe it wasn’t meant to. But in Mykonos, under the heat of the sun and the glow of the city’s endless nights, it was everything.

Day 9 in Mykonos. The sky was so clear that the stars felt within reach. You lay on the sand, legs stretched out, and Donghyuck was right there beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him.

You swapped stories, sharing bits of your past that never seemed important enough to bring up before. Stupid childhood memories, embarrassing moments, harmless secrets. You told him about the time you and your friends snuck into a Rated-18 adult bookstore and almost got caught. He told you about the time he got kicked out of a club for pretending to be a celebrity’s cousin.

At some point, you turned to him, the sky reflecting in his dark eyes. “Why do people call you Haechan?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second. You didn’t expect him to answer so seriously, but when he did, his voice was quiet and soft.

“My parents weren’t married when they had me,” he admitted. “My mom was my dad’s mistress longer than she was his wife. For most of my life, I was just Donghyuck. But when my father finally decided to introduce me to society as a member of the family, they gave me a new name. Haechan.”

You stared at him, suddenly feeling like you were seeing him differently. Donghyuck, who belonged so easily in every room, every crowd, every moment, had spent years being someone who didn’t belong anywhere.

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing. And maybe that silence opened something up in him because then he exhaled and said, “And I’ve known you longer than you think.”

You frowned. “What?”

His lips pressed together in a small, almost nervous smile. “There was an international high school science event,” he said. “I was a delegate. I was having a shitty time—family stuff. I snuck off somewhere quiet and… I don’t know, I just sat there, trying to pull myself together. Then you walked up. You didn’t say anything, just handed me your handkerchief, patted my back, and walked away.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then, you let out a small laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“That doesn’t even sound like me.”

“You were nice,” he said with a small shrug. “At least for a second.”

You rolled your eyes, but something about it was so absurd that you almost laughed again. You tried to reach back for the memory, but it was hazy—just a vague recollection of an unfamiliar boy hunched over in some dimly lit hallway, his face buried in his hands.

It had meant nothing to you. But apparently, it had meant something to him. It was funny. Until it wasn’t. Because then, Donghyuck looked at you, really looked at you, and said, “I’ve been in love with you since that day.”

Your stomach dropped, and suddenly, the world didn’t feel so light anymore.

“No,” you said, almost instinctively.

“No?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“You can’t say shit like that,” you muttered, sitting up, wrapping your arms around your knees. 

“Why not?

You chuckled nervously. “What if you’re wrong? What if that girl wasn’t me? I don’t even remember that.”

“I knew it was you. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

“No, Hyuck,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You can’t do this. Don’t do this. Don’t ruin this.”

Donghyuck scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Ruin what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Whatever this is.”

“What is this then?”

“Nothing!” you snapped.

His jaw clenched, something flashing in his eyes—hurt? Anger, maybe?

“Nothing?” Donghyuck scoffed, sitting up now. He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “So what? We just hang out, we fuck, and that’s it? After this, we go back home and pretend none of this ever happened?”

“Yes.” The word came out harsher than you intended.

Donghyuck stared at you, waiting for you to take it back, waiting for anything. You didn’t.

“You don’t love me,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

You hesitated. That was enough of an answer. Donghyuck exhaled, shaking his head. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

You took a breath. “I can’t. I can’t love you.”

His lips parted slightly, but whatever he wanted to say, he swallowed it back. He nodded once, like he had just come to a decision. Then, without another word, he got up and walked away. And you let him.

In the morning, everything would go back to normal. He’d come around after you’d both pushed this conversation past you.

But he didn’t. You sat in your suite all day, waiting, wondering, hoping. You kept waiting for him to show up—cracking jokes, finding excuses to touch you, dragging you into whatever trouble he had planned for the day. But he never did.

You debated going to see him, making up excuses to go there. You’d basically been living there all week. You had some of your stuff up there too. But try as you might, you couldn’t bring yourself to lower your pride and seek him out first.

At some point, you found yourself at a lounge bar, trying to distract yourself with a drink, and trying not to check your phone even though you knew there was nothing to check. That was when you spotted Taeyong, tucked in a booth scrolling through a tablet, looking every bit the serious businessman. 

You walked over. “Hey.”

He looked up, taking a second too long to study your face. “Hey. You look…” He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… needed a drink.”

Taeyong didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “You looking for Haechan?”

You were hoping he’d ask you that. But now that he did, you realized just how badly you wanted to see him. “I was actually wondering where he is,” you admitted.

He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the table. “There’s a cocktail party downstairs and he was invited. I’m not sure if he went.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an invitation. “Here, why don’t you go check? This was for me, but I feel like you’d enjoy it more than I will.”

You took the card, hope suddenly filling up your heart. “Thanks.”

As you turned to leave, Taeyong spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I like you. You’re good for our Donghyuck.”

You glanced back, caught off guard. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just swirling his drink like it was a passing thought, but there was warmth in his eyes. In the past few days that you were here, this was the first time you heard him use the name Donghyuck instead of Haechan.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you didn’t. You just nodded and left.

Back in your room, you got ready, but the whole time, your thoughts wouldn’t shut up. You changed into a dress, one you knew he’d like, one you knew you looked good in. You fixed your hair, added a little makeup, anything to make yourself feel more confident. More beautiful.

And then, right on cue, doubt kicked in. You stared at your reflection, almost accusingly. “What am I doing?”

Dressing up for him and trying to impress him after you told him to leave you alone? You had to be out of your mind.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve wiped off the makeup, taken off the dress, and stayed in. But despite all the warnings in your head, your feet carried you to the door.

The hallway felt longer than usual as you made your way downstairs, heart pounding wildly. The party wasn’t huge, but it was packed with people around your age, though they weren’t like you. They were effortlessly glamorous, effortlessly rich.

You scanned the room, hoping he was there. And he was. Donghyuck stood near the bar, deep in conversation with a group of people. Your pulse quickened as you walked toward him. But the closer you got, the clearer it became. Something was off.

“Hyuck,” you called softly.

When he turned, his eyes met yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, they weren’t warm. There was no teasing smile, no playful glint. Just cool detachment, like he was looking right through you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, he turned back to his friends, as if you weren’t even there.

You hesitated. Tried again. “Hey,” you said, forcing some lightness into your tone. “I see you’re having fun.”

He didn’t even glance at you. Just shrugged. “Yeah. Can I help you?”

His tone was sharp, telling you to leave him alone despite saying something else. That was it. No nicknames, no smirk, not even a glance your way.

So this was how it was going to be. He wasn’t going to argue. Wasn’t going to fight. He was just done. You stood there a second longer, waiting for something—anything—but Donghyuck was already back to his conversation, shutting you out completely.

You had no choice but to leave.

The noise of the party faded behind you as you stepped outside, the night air cooling the heat creeping up your neck. You exhaled sharply, leaning against the stone wall, trying to shake the feeling sinking into your chest.

You should be angry, right? He was the one who confessed. He was the one who made this messy. Your reaction was valid, but you didn’t know you’d miss him this much. You told him to leave you alone. You told him you couldn’t do this with him. You couldn’t go back on that now. Could you?

“Why not?” your sister asked when you told her everything that night.

You both sat on the balcony, mirroring each other—feet tucked in, arms wrapped around your knees, gazes fixed on the dark horizon. The air was warm but your chest felt tight, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe.

“Because…” you groaned, resting your chin on your knees. “Jeno.”

Your sister didn’t say anything, just waited.

“It’s different, I know,” you admitted. “It’s not fair to compare. Jeno never tried. He didn’t care enough to try.” The words felt sharp in your mouth, but they were true. Jeno let you slip through his fingers like you were nothing. Donghyuck wasn’t like that. He had only ever shown you how much he wanted you, how much he adored you in his own perverted and unconventional way, but it was hard to ignore.

The problem wasn’t him. It was you. You had given your heart to someone before, and he hadn’t known what to do with it. He was careless with it. Now, you weren’t sure if you even knew how to give it again, or if you even wanted to.

Your sister sighed, reaching over to smooth her fingers through your hair. “Sweetheart,” she said, her voice soft, “you don’t have to hand over your heart to someone else. It’s yours. You take care of it. You protect it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t share it.”

You swallowed, staring at your hands.

“If you love yourself enough,” she continued, “if you know how to hold your own heart gently, no one else can break it beyond repair. Do you get what I’m saying?”

You did. And for the first time, it wasn’t a question of whether Donghyuck would break your heart. It was whether you would let yourself love him.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” you blurted, standing up before you could even think twice.

You hurried out, riding the elevator to his floor. But before the doors could close, doubt crept into your heart so you rushed out instead.

You stood there for a moment, eyes fixed on your reflection in the steel doors. “I need a drink,” you muttered to yourself, and turned toward the bar.

The alcohol burned its way down, but it wasn’t doing its job fast enough. You tapped your fingers against the bar, willing your nerves to settle, but they rattled harder. Another shot. Then another. Liquid courage, right? That's what they called it. But all it did was blur your thoughts and spin your head.

By the time you reached your tenth shot, your vision was doubling. You were drunk, and you knew it. But you knew where you had to be.

Somehow, you found yourself in front of Donghyuck’s suite. Your fist hit the door—once, twice, then again, harder, louder, more persistent. You had no idea what time it was, but it had to be late, because when the door finally swung open, Donghyuck looked like he had just been about to call it a night. His hair was tousled, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his eyes—God, those eyes—were heavy and unreadable.

You swayed slightly, gripping the doorframe for balance, but you didn’t say a word. Neither did he. The silence stretched and then, without thinking, without speaking, you kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was desperate, heated, almost punishing. You tasted like alcohol and something bittersweet, and Donghyuck’s sharp intake of breath against your lips made you want to pull away. But you didn’t. You needed this, needed him.

His hands settled on your waist, steadying you, but he didn’t pull you closer. Didn’t kiss you back the way you wanted him to.

When he finally pulled away, you chased after him, but he held you at arm’s length. His breathing was uneven, and his eyes were dark and unreadable. “What do you want from me?”

The question hit harder than it should have. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You didn’t have an answer to that.

And then you saw someone. A girl stood a few feet inside the suite, tall and striking, wearing an expensive silk dress that clung to her frame exquisitely. The kind of girl who belonged in his world, who probably knew all the right things to say and do. She wasn’t looking at you with pity or amusement—she was just there, existing in his space.

Your stomach turned. You shoved Donghyuck away, stumbling slightly in the process, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t look at him, didn’t let him speak. You just turned and left, ignoring the sound of him calling after you.

You had no idea where you were going, but anywhere was better than here. You kept walking, climbing stairs, descending them. It was a maze of white buildings, your chest heavy with the alcohol and the weight of your issues with Donghyuck. You kept walking until you finally found yourself in the hotel parking lot, disoriented and alone.

You didn’t know why you ended up there, what you were even trying to do anymore. You were drunk, confused, and angry, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Then you heard his voice. It cut through the quiet night, sharp and frustrated. “Hey!” He was standing in the distance, looking at you with frustration and concern in his expression.

“Fuck you,” you shouted. But he didn’t flinch. He just walked toward you.

“You’re drunk. I’ll take you back to your room,” he said softly, reaching for your arm.

You swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” you cried, hugging yourself. “Don’t touch me with those hands.”

“Princess…”

“And don’t call me that either!” You laughed, bitterly, stepping back. You could feel the rain starting to fall, light at first, then heavier. “Go back to your woman, Donghyuck. You can’t be out here chasing another while someone’s waiting for you in your suite.”

He sighed, rubbing his neck like he was physically exhausted. The rain picked up. “It’s not what you think. She's not my woman. Just… come with me. Let’s go back inside.”

You backed away when he reached for you again. “You think I’m the problem, don’t you? You think I’m the one who’s been messing this up. But you’re the one who made it all so complicated. You ruined this, Donghyuck! You told me you loved me, and then you…” Your voice broke, and your knees gave way.

You sank to the ground, spinning from the alcohol. Donghyuck crouched beside you, his hands on your shoulders, steady but not comforting.

“You left me alone,” you sobbed, weakly hitting his chest.

His jaw tightened. “You told me to leave you alone. I only did what you asked.”

“Yeah, well maybe I didn’t mean it!” you snapped, looking up at him, desperate to make him understand. “Maybe I didn’t want you to leave me alone! But you just walked away, acted like nothing happened. The next morning, I was a stranger to you!” Your chest was tight, voice cracking as you finally let yourself say it out loud. You didn’t know when you’d been this vulnerable before. Maybe never. 

“I’m not a stranger,” you added softly, burying your face in your hands, the tears falling freely now.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was something gentle there. His voice was quieter when he asked, “What do you really want, princess? Tell me. Because I don’t know how to fix this when you can’t even make up your mind.”

Your head spun. You wanted to yell at him. Tell him to never leave you alone. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you kissed him again.

It wasn’t a kiss born from clarity or understanding. It was desperation. A way to make all the emotions, all the anger, and the hurt disappear. His hands cupped your face, and for the first time in days, something felt real.

Then the image of the girl in his room registered in your mind and suddenly, you were furious again. You pushed him away, sending him to the ground with a confused look on his face. Tears mixed with the rain as you stood, storming away. You couldn’t stop crying, and you didn’t know if you were mad at him or yourself. Everything was too much.

Then, you heard his voice again, rougher this time. “Hey! Wait!”

You turned around to see Donghyuck running toward you, his footsteps slapping against the wet pavement. You didn’t want to hear him. Didn’t want to see him. But there he was, pushing past you, grabbing your arm to stop you.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, pulling your arm free.

“I’m not letting you walk away from this, damn it!” His voice cracked, and suddenly, you were face to face with him again. “You can’t keep running from this.”

“I can. Just stop chasing me!” You shoved at him, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled you closer.

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!” you cried, your voice breaking. “I don’t know, Donghyuck. I don’t even know what this is anymore.”

The next thing you knew, a sports car screeched into the parking lot, headlights blinding you both. You both froze, caught in a moment of shock, and then, in one swift motion, Donghyuck shoved you out of the car’s path.

You hit the ground hard, pain shooting through your body. But before you could even process it, the sound of screeching tires and the crash of metal against metal filled your ears.

The world spun. You heard Donghyuck’s voice calling your name, but it was distant, muffled. Blood rushed to your ears as the pain hit your side, and everything went black.

You were aware of the beeping first, then the scent of antiseptic in the air. You blinked a few times, your eyelids heavy like they weren’t yours. The world was blurry at first, and then, slowly, it began to sharpen. The white walls of a hospital room greeted you, sterile and unfamiliar. For a moment, you couldn’t remember how you got here, but the dull ache in your body reminded you of the crash.

“Hey, you’re awake!” The voice was familiar—your sister’s. You turned your head slightly, finding her sitting beside you, looking like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were red, and there was a worried line etched between her brows. “You had us so scared, you know that?”

You swallowed hard, your mind immediately going back to the scene before everything went blank. Donghyuck. You had to know if he was okay.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry, the words trapped there. Instead, you reached out weakly, and she immediately grabbed your hand, squeezing it with relief. She called the nurse, and moments later, a doctor came in with a couple of nurses in tow. They adjusted the IV hooked up to your arm, checking your vitals and asking you simple questions—name, date, where you were.

The doctor nodded as you answered everything correctly, then gave a reassuring smile. “Everything looks good. You’re going to be just fine. Just need some more rest.”

You nodded in return, barely processing what he was saying. Your gaze kept flicking toward the door, hoping to see a familiar face, but no one came. Then, through the small crack in the door, you saw Taeyong.

He entered the room, his face stern, but there was a touch of worry in his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, hoping Donghyuck would follow him in, but he didn’t. 

You stared at him, struggling to get the words out, your voice hoarse. “Where… where’s Donghyuck?”

Taeyong hesitated, his eyes flickering between you and your sister, who had stayed quietly at your side. He sighed, the lines of worry deepening on his face. “There was an accident,” he started slowly. “A drunk guest was driving, and they crashed into the parking lot. Donghyuck… he tried to get to you but he was a little too late and this happened.”

You didn’t understand. “What happened to him?” you demanded, your voice firm despite the dizziness that still lingered in your head. “Is he okay?”

Taeyong seemed to weigh his words before continuing. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine. You were actually the last to wake up. After the accident, things got complicated. Lawsuits, settlements… The other party’s insurance is involved now. It’s a mess. But the good news is, you’re okay. Just a few injuries, nothing too serious. The shock made you pass out for a couple of days, that’s all.”

You barely heard him as he spoke, your mind only focused on one thing. Where was Donghyuck? Your eyes scanned Taeyong’s face desperately. “Taeyong. Where is he?”

Taeyong looked to your sister, who nodded at him. He stepped back and gave a small, regretful smile, excusing himself with a murmured, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, your sister turned to you and you could see the hesitation in her eyes. There was an answer to your question that she didn’t want to give. 

“Donghyuck left the island this morning,” she said quietly, her voice strained. “He’s not here anymore.”

Your sister was watching you carefully, like she was bracing for your reaction.

“He left?” Your voice came out flat, barely above a whisper. “Why? Where did he go? Did he go back to NCIT?”

Your sister sighed. “Honey, he won’t be going to NCIT anymore. Donghyuck went back to Korea. He is to finish his studies there. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ll see him again.”

A laugh—bitter and humorless—escaped your lips before you could stop it. You waited for her to say something else, to clarify, but she didn’t. 

“So that’s it?” you asked, feeling the sting of it settle deeper. “He didn’t even wait for me to wake up?”

Your sister looked at you, her eyes full of sympathy, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. A suffocating ache built in your chest, and your breath hitched as you finally let yourself feel everything. The betrayal. The confusion. The pain. Tears spilled over, one after another, wetting your pillow. Your sister reached out to comfort you, but you pulled away, turning your face to the side, unable to face her, unable to face the reality of it.

“I wanna be alone,” you choked, your voice breaking. “Please. Just go.”

Your sister’s lips parted, but she said nothing. She rose to her feet and left quietly, closing the door behind her.

You were left alone with the silence of the room, the soft whirring of the machines, and the overwhelming regret of what you couldn’t change. The tears didn’t stop, but there was something strangely calming about the release. You cried for the things you didn’t say, for the things left unsaid, for the way everything had slipped through your fingers like sand.

It was stupid, really. You should have known better. You did know better. You were right all along, weren’t you? Love—whatever the hell that was—only ever ended in heartbreak. Yours, specifically. 

Your fingers clenched the blanket as you let out a shaky breath. Maybe if you had just been a little braver, if you had let yourself be more open, things wouldn’t have ended like this.

But that was wishful thinking. Because at the end of the day, Donghyuck had made his choice. And you were left here—again—trying to figure out how to pick up the pieces.

When you landed back home, the sight of familiar faces waiting at the airport nearly made you cry. Ningning, Karina, Giselle, Jaemin, and Renjun too. They spotted you the moment you stepped past security, their worried faces instantly breaking into smiles. Before you could react, Ningning threw her arms around you, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Oh my God, you have no idea how worried we were!” she exclaimed, squeezing you so tightly it was hard to breathe.

Karina was right behind her, arms crossed but eyes filled with relief. “You could’ve at least texted more, you know. ‘I’m alive’ doesn’t cut it.”

Giselle nodded in agreement, hands on her hips. “Seriously. We were two seconds away from hijacking a flight to Mykonos.”

Jaemin grinned, stepping forward and ruffling your hair like you were a kid. “Welcome back, troublemaker.”

Even Renjun was there, standing slightly behind the group with his usual composed expression. But when your eyes met, he gave you a small nod. “It’s good to see you.”

It was overwhelming, all of it—their presence, their concern, the way they made you feel like you truly belonged here. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down and forced a smile. “I missed you guys,” you said, voice soft but genuine.

“Duh.” Ningning pulled away, smacking your arm lightly. “Come on, let’s get you home. Your mom’s been cooking all day.”

The drive back was filled with laughter, inside jokes, and playful bickering—just like it always was. They didn’t know what had happened in Mykonos. None of them did except your sister. To them, this was just a trip gone slightly wrong, not a summer that had unraveled you. And maybe that was for the best.

Back home, your mother had prepared a warm meal, welcoming everyone inside like it was some kind of homecoming celebration. The house smelled of home-cooked food, the kind only your mother could make. Your mom appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel before pulling you into a hug. She held you for a few seconds longer than usual, her grip firm, like she needed to reassure herself that you were really here.

Dinner was loud, filled with laughter and stories. No one asked about Mykonos, about the accident, about him. It was as if the summer never happened.

But you knew better. It did happen. And though your heart still ached, you told yourself it was okay. Because Mykonos was beautiful—wild, messy, unforgettable. You would remember it like a fever dream, something distant yet vivid, lingering in the corners of your mind.

But would you ever go back? No. Some things weren’t worth reliving. A broken heart wasn’t worth it.

Still, you wouldn’t trade the scars. They were proof of something real—something fleeting, intense, and impossible to hold onto. And at the end of the day, that was enough.

To: LDH/LHC Though it didn’t last, I hope our paths cross again -x

[fin]

[rainysoulfulnights]

꒰ cute little something for valentines tomorrow ! gojo satoru/reader, fluff ꒱

the scenery of the garden looks like something straight out of a fairy-tale. a mosaic of flora, rich with flowers, herbs, shrubs, and the most delicious and juiciest fruits; the hydrangea glimmering under the white glow of the moon, and the sakura dancing, are the cherries on top.

a sight that resonated with love, care, and time.

your personal hideaway, a sanctuary buried deep within jujutsu high away from the daily life chaos. where no one, no responsibilities, even life itself, would find you.

you breathe deeply, inhaling the fresh and mossy scent drifting on the evening air. you tilt your head up, and the sky looks back at you—a swirl of oranges and reds. it's smiling today, without any clouds in sight. and you do, too.

a kind gesture, and it feels nice. so is how gratitude blooms.

and then amidst the glowing lights and fireflies, you hear it, heavy and carefree footsteps announcing themselves into the yard.

“watcha looking at?”

the world jolts.

it comes thunderous, a sharp voice hiding behind the soft whistling of the leaves, with a little huff behind you, so dangerously close to your ears.

“—gojo!”

he laughs as you shriek, nearly falling from the stone bench, and goosebumps arise where his breath still lingers on your skin. the fireflies shoo away, making room for him, and the hydrangeas bow in his presence.

you huff watching him come closer, plopping down right beside you with a loud groan. he's close, too close. the roughness of his pants graze against yours, and both of you don't say anything for a while.

still mesmerized by the sakura, you don't notice satoru's stare. he coughs gently, patiently waiting for you to turn your head, but when you don't, he lets out an even louder one—chalk grating against the blackboard.

ahem.

you sigh and mutter, “what is it?” you smoothly turn towards him, narrowed eyes glaring at him.

“i-i been meaning to ask you,” he gulps, and you catch how his throat bobs up and down before returning back to his covered eyes, “about something...”

you hum, noticing the sudden shift in his demeanour; no wide grin plastered on his ridiculously handsome face this time, and... why did he look so red all of a sudden? was he sick perchance? but that's unlikely the satoru you knew.

the usual black sunglasses perched on his face, impossible to see past the opaque glass. but you notice how his lips occasionally twitch and the shallow breaths, as if he was struggling to inhale properly. it all makes you wonder if he ate something suspicious from the pantry today.

perhaps a mouldy mushroom soup or maybe the rotten carrots. with satoru, you just never know. so it's better to get him to talk, and sometimes you'd think he was like a child, not in the childish way, but someone who wanted to be near others at all times.

(that others is most probably you, but you know better than to comment on it.)

“you know...” he starts slowly, checking the boiling pot before he could add anything else.

“about tomorrow, right?”

yeah, you do. it's friday almost the end of a tortuous week of studying and exorcising curses.

“ha... yes?”

more of a question than an answer. you really really don't have any idea what this man was talking about.

satoru visibly brightens up. the grin you apparently were starting to miss creeps up on his lips—slow and teasing—and he pulls out what looks like a paper slip from his jacket's pocket.

“here!”

and just like that, he throws the paper in your lap and stands up abruptly. “make sure to wear something nice!”

you can only watch with a gaped mouth as he makes his way back indoors, red ears, and a waver in his steps. the paper slip feels unusually heavy, an amusement park entry plus a small strawberry toffee attached to the side.

be my valentines? <3

it's short and sweet, just like the toffee as you chew on it, and you smile, shaking your head.

so much for that gojo satoru.

the fireflies return, and the hydrangeas rise once again. you clutch the slip in your hands. the air smells sweeter now, and in this indian summer—this unexpected warmth in the autumn of your relationship—you realize how things are beginning to change.

maybe for the better.

[dreamykira]

Only Regret Remains I THANOS x reader

˗ˏˋWARNINGS ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Use of drugs (Thanos is high), character death, mentions of shooting, spoilers!!!!, a little angst that turns into fluff. ps! if i missed any then pls let me know:)

˗ˏˋAuthor's Note ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Heyyyy!! So I wrote this based on a request that this lovely user sent me: @nuttyflowerheart

I hope you enjoy!!!!

ALSOOOOOO i haven't written anything like this in a long long time so pls if u have any recommendations, do let me know!

word count: 1137

The Mingle game had been chaotic.

At first, the rules seemed simple—find a group and enter a room before time ran out. But as the numbers dwindled and the last round was called, desperation took hold.

Two.

Fifty rooms. A hundred and fifty people. It wasn’t about strategy anymore—it was about survival.

And in those final seconds, you thought Thanos would choose you. You felt it, deep in your chest, the silent reassurance that no matter how brutal this game got, the two of you would stick together.

But then he turned his back on you.

His fingers curled around Nam-Gyu’s arm, dragging him toward the nearest room.

You barely had time to register it, your heart pounding as you spun to find someone—anyone—before the doors locked. And then—

Gyeon-su.

Gyeon-su was on the ground, scrambling to get up, his face contorted in panic. You didn’t even see what happened—only that Thanos was already running, dragging Nam-Gyu toward an open room. And in that split second, as Gyeon-su reached for you, you realized—Thanos had pushed him.

You didn’t even have time to react before someone else pulled you into a room at the last second. And then the gunfire started.

By the time you made it back to the dormitory, it was clear that Gyeon-su was gone. And Thanos—your Thanos—was acting like nothing had happened.

✧˚ · .

The dormitory was suffocating. Not because of the stale air or the distant sobs of players mourning their partners. No, it was the presence of him.

Thanos stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall with that same unreadable expression, arms crossed over his chest as if this was just another night. But it wasn’t.

You sat on the edge of your bed, heart hammering in your chest, trying to process the events of the last game. Your fingers trembled, clutching at the thin sheets as if it could anchor you to something solid. Something real.

But nothing felt real anymore.

"You’re angry," Thanos finally said, his voice even, detached. His pupils were still blown wide, the drugs still lingering in his system. "I get it, baby. But you’re here. We both made it."

You let out a breathless laugh, but it was hollow, devoid of warmth. "You get it?" Your eyes snapped to his, burning with unshed tears. "You left me, Thanos. You walked away and didn’t even look back. You—" Your voice cracked. "You let Gyeon-su die."

He rolled his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose. "I did what I had to."

"Don’t," you spat, standing up so fast your knees almost gave out. "Don’t you dare give me that bullshit.” 

Thanos tilted his head, watching you with an almost lazy indifference. It made your stomach churn. "Weakness gets you killed in here, darling. You know that."

Your hands clenched into fists. "He was my best friend."

Thanos sighed, rubbing his temples. "And I’m your boyfriend," he murmured, stepping closer. His voice softened, coaxing, like he could smooth this over with pet names and careful words. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wasn’t thinking—"

Your breath hitched at the familiarity of his tone, the same one he used late at night when the weight of the game pressed too hard against your chest. But now, his words felt empty.

You shook your head, stepping back. "No, Thanos. You were thinking. You made a choice. And it wasn’t me." Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "You turned your back on me. You made it clear that there is no ‘us’ when you chose Nam-Gyu."

He didn’t reply, just nodded once, exhaled sharply through his nose, and walked off with Nam-Gyu, who had been observing the conversation from the side. 

Maybe it was the drugs still coursing through his system, dulling his emotions, keeping him numb. He didn’t fight for your forgiveness, didn’t try to explain himself. 

And that hurt. More than anything else.

So you stayed away.

You curled up in your bed, facing the wall, body curled tight like you could somehow make yourself smaller, like you could shut out the ache in your chest. Gyeon-su was gone. And Thanos… you weren’t sure if he had ever really been yours at all.

✧˚ · .

Hours passed.

The drugs faded.

And suddenly, it hit him.

Thanos sat on the edge of his bunk bed, hands clasped together, his head bowed. His heart pounded—too fast, too hard. Every second that ticked by felt like a hammer slamming into his ribs.

What the fuck have I done?

He remembered the look in your eyes, the betrayal that cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He remembered the way you didn’t even fight with him, like you had already decided he wasn’t worth it.

And Gyeon-su… Fuck.

He had been high. Out of his head, not thinking, not feeling. It had all been instinct—push, grab, run. But now, sitting there, stone-cold sober, it clawed at him.

He had killed Gyeon-su.

He had lost you.

His fingers trembled as he ran them through his hair, gripping tight, trying to breathe. He needed to fix this. He had to fix this.

✧˚ · .

You didn’t hear him approach.

Didn’t move when he knelt down beside your bed, resting his hand lightly on your arm.

"Baby," he whispered, voice hoarse, broken. "Please."

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry again. "Go away, Thanos."

"No." His grip tightened, just slightly. "I can’t. Not after—fuck, I don’t even know where to start."

Silence.

Then, finally, you turned your head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were red-rimmed, tired, full of something you hadn’t seen before—pure, raw remorse.

"I wasn’t thinking," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I was high, and I—I wasn’t seeing things the way I should have. I should’ve picked you. I should’ve fought for us." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I should’ve saved Gyeon-su."

Your chest ached. "But you didn’t."

He exhaled sharply. "I know. And I can’t take it back. But, baby—please—don’t let this be the end of us.*"

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Because fuck, you wanted to hate him. You should hate him. But he was looking at you like you were the only thing holding him together, and maybe… maybe you were.

You took a shaky breath. "I don’t know if I can forgive you."

"I don’t deserve it." His voice cracked. "But I swear to you, darling—if you give me another chance, I will never, never leave you again."

His hand found yours, fingers tentative, uncertain.

You hesitated—just for a second—before squeezing back.

"Okay," you murmured. "But you’re sleeping on the floor tonight."

For the first time in hours, Thanos let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Alright, pretty girl"

And maybe, just maybe, you could piece this back together.

[party-pixie]

hey, thanks for the kind words. i'll admit that i kinda forgot for a while that daily demon spotlight was meant to be a blog for fun above all, and i got too obsessed with my perfectionism to where even the slightest criticism would make me panic and overcorrect everything

i really do appreciate what you said as it kinda just grounded me again and made me realize that i'm not some giant public figure, i'm just some teenage trans girl who likes to write, so thank you so much even if you didn't intend it to be that deep lmao 🙏

well im glad i could help 🥰 i've gotten the perfectionism bug with my own writing so i know how much it really sucks. i think it's also scary on the internet where people are increasingly becoming mean to people they don't know over even small things, so it prob feels like you're risking getting huge backlash over something that isn't all that difficult to fix. like, the demon spotlight is just a hobby blog covering figures that appear in a game series that in itself has questionable information and unclear sources, it's not an official compendium blog run by atlus yknow??? i get not wanting to spread misinformation or see it get spread ab mythological figures but for a hobby blog where it's not difficult to add to posts, i don't think it needs to be all that deep. don't be afraid to add an addendum to old posts if you ever come across new information or a correction, i think that kind of thing could be beneficial even if the original post had a lot of incorrect stuff in it

plus, with so many different retellings and translations of mythological stories i think people will consider different ones to be their "canon" to them. i mean like, i read ab two or three different takes just on ganesha's birth in a little section ab parvati in a book discussing a ton of different goddesses. and with language barriers and such, you're bound to run into inaccuracies tbh

i think it's a good preface for everyone involved to come into this understanding that it's easy to unknowingly run into wrong information ab figures, smt is full of inaccuracies in itself, the demon spotlight is just a hobby and isn't gonna get thesis-level work put into it, and the goal isn't to spread misinformation

as long as you keep doing your best in research and handling things as respectfully as you can, i don't think mistakes should be a huge deal. like, yea okay you fucked up a post cus you had bad sources, it's not the end of the world and i don't think you should feel like it's the end of the world or someone else should make you feel that way. just don't argue with people if they give you a correction. i mean, if someone's a total asshole about it that's not really something you can help, the best you can do is apologize and correct the original post. but there's no need to wallow in sorrow cus you got something wrong, it's really not the end of the world🥰👍

[littlelamy]

a/n: the beginning is loosely based of S4 with rafe and sofia! I’m kinda obsessed with rafe being needy behind close doors 🥵I hope you guys enjoy!

you couldn’t stop replaying his words over and over again in your head. each syllable hit harder, cutting deeper than the last. always running her mouth? what. just a hookup, id never date a pogue.

you stood there, behind the slightly ajar door, heart pounding so loudly you were sure it could be heard. but rafe didn’t notice—he was too busy tearing you down with topper, speaking like you were nothing more than a nuisance in his life. he’d never know how those words would haunt you, how the trust you had in him shattered like glass.

your eyes burned with unshed tears, the sharp sting of betrayal settling into the pit of your stomach. but there was something else bubbling just beneath the surface—rage. not the hot, fiery kind that comes and goes. no, this was colder, more calculated. the type that stews, planning its revenge.

your fingers itched to grab your things and leave, but not without making sure he understood who held the power in this relationship. you weren’t going to walk away defeated, not when you could leave him begging for mercy.

so, instead of running, you turned, heart hardening with each step as you walked back into the room, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled out a suitcase from under the bed.

if he thought he could treat you like this, he was about to learn how wrong he was. you weren’t some weak girl who would let this slide. no, rafe was about to see a side of you he never had before.

the door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, you could hear his confused muttering. "yo, topper, i’ll catch you later."

rafe’s voice rang through the hallway, much closer now, but still carrying the same arrogant tone. you ignored him, hands moving swiftly as you tossed your clothes into the bag, each item thrown more aggressively than the last.

when rafe finally stepped into the room, his eyes immediately fell on you, and panic flickered in his expression. "what the hell are you doing?"

his voice wavered as he took in the scene—your half-packed bag, the angry flush on your cheeks, the tight set of your jaw.

"what does it look like?" you shot back, barely sparing him a glance as you continued packing.

he hesitated, taking a step closer to you, but the sight of your seething rage stopped him in his tracks. "hey, let’s just—let’s talk about this, okay?"

you laughed bitterly, slamming the suitcase shut before finally turning to face him. "oh, now you want to talk?" you snapped, the sharp edge in your voice slicing through the air between you. "funny, because earlier, it seemed like you had plenty to say."

his face paled as realization dawned on him. you watched as his lips parted, searching for words but finding none. for the first time in a long time, rafe cameron was speechless, guilt flooding his features.

"i didn’t—" he started, but you cut him off.

"save it," you hissed, stepping closer to him now, your eyes blazing. "i heard everything, rafe. every. single. word."

rafe’s breath hitched as the full weight of your words crashed down on him. his eyes widened in panic, and he took another shaky step toward you, reaching out as if to touch you, to ground himself in this spiraling nightmare. "i didn’t mean it, baby. i swear, i wasn’t thinking—i was just venting—"

"venting?" you scoffed, stepping back from his touch. "do i look like someone you just 'vent' about, rafe? am i just some girl you get to shit on when i’m not around?" your voice cracked slightly, the hurt bubbling beneath your fury slipping through the cracks.

rafe’s hands trembled as he dropped them to his sides, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he shook his head. "no, no—please, you know i didn’t mean any of that. i was just—" his voice broke, and you watched as his composure started to crumble, tears pooling in his eyes. "i was just talking, okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. you have to believe me."

but you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. your eyes darkened as you stepped even closer to him, your voice dropping to a dangerously low whisper. "if you’re really sorry, rafe, you’re going to have to prove it."

a flicker of hope sparked in his eyes, and he nodded eagerly, desperate to fix what he’d broken. "anything," he breathed, his voice shaky. "i’ll do anything."

you stared him down, watching as he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with nervous anticipation. there was no trace of the cocky, confident rafe now. instead, he was a trembling mess, willing to do whatever it took to keep you from walking out that door.

you grabbed your phone from the dresser, starting the recording and letting the soft beep fill the silence. rafe’s eyes widened as he watched you, confusion and curiosity mixing with the fear in his gaze.

"get on your knees," you ordered, your voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

rafe blinked, momentarily stunned by the command, but the second your eyes met his, cold and unwavering, he obeyed. he dropped to his knees before you, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. the vulnerability radiating off him was palpable, his breath shaky as he knelt before you, completely at your mercy.

"you don’t get to speak," you warned, holding the phone steady as you circled him slowly, capturing his wide eyes, his trembling hands. "you only get to listen and do what i say."

he nodded quickly, his throat tight with emotion as he blinked away the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

you positioned yourself on the bed, spreading your legs slightly, and gestured for him to come closer. "you know what to do," you said, your tone soft but commanding.

without a moment’s hesitation, rafe shuffled forward on his knees, his eyes glued to your thighs as he leaned in, his lips pressing soft, tentative kisses along your skin. his breath was hot and shaky, the desperation in every touch making your pulse quicken.

"good boy," you murmured, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, guiding his mouth exactly where you wanted it. "now, show me how sorry you are."

rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking against you with a desperation that sent shivers down your spine. his hands gripped your thighs, holding on for dear life as he worked to prove himself, his movements frantic, eager to please.

your head tipped back slightly as a soft sigh escaped your lips, but you quickly regained control, focusing on the phone’s camera in your hand. you adjusted the angle, making sure you captured every second of rafe’s unraveling—his lips swollen and red from the effort, his face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead.

"look at you," you cooed softly, your free hand caressing his cheek. "you’re such a mess for me, aren’t you?"

rafe whimpered in response, the vibrations from his soft sobs sending waves of pleasure through you. his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his face harder against you, the tears finally spilling over and streaming down his cheeks.

you could feel the shift in him—the way his body trembled beneath your touch, the way his breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. he was breaking, right in front of you, and the sight sent a surge of power through your veins.

"don’t stop," you whispered, your fingers tugging on his hair as his pace quickened, his tongue working furiously. "not until i say so."

rafe let out a choked sob, his tears soaking into your skin as he continued, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. you glanced down at him, the sight of his tear-streaked face and swollen lips sending a rush of heat through you.

"you’re mine," you whispered, your voice dripping with possession as you tilted his face up slightly, capturing the tear that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. "and you’ll never forget it."

rafe’s body shuddered at your words, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he clung to you, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. another tear slipped down his face, and you leaned down, your lips brushing against his cheek, kissing the tear away.

you recorded it all, making sure you caught the exact moment rafe broke for you, his body trembling beneath your touch as he whimpered your name.

"please," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "i’m yours. i’ll never leave you. i love you. please…don’t leave me."

his words were slurred, thick with emotion, and you smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

"good boy," you whispered, pressing one last kiss to his temple as his body finally collapsed against you, completely spent and vulnerable.

slowly, you stopped recording. rafe barely noticed, his head resting against your thigh, still trying to steady his breathing. his tear-streaked face was a picture of surrender.

you stood up, gently pushing him off you, and his body slumped against the mattress, too weak to even protest. you didn’t say a word as you picked up your phone, your fingers tapping with practiced precision.

rafe watched through bleary eyes, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths, the reality of the situation not quite sinking in yet.

the video—the raw, intimate recording of rafe at his most vulnerable—was right there, in your hand. the smirk playing at your lips deepened as you attached it to a group chat, the names of topper, kelce, and several other friends flashing across the screen. rafe’s inner circle, the same ones he was so eager to talk big around. they’d all see this.

and then, for the final touch. your fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a moment before typing: looks like the pogue got your boy.

the message was delivered, the little ‘sent’ confirmation making your heart race with satisfaction. the power was now entirely in your hands, and you relished the silence that followed, the calm before the inevitable storm.

rafe blinked, finally realizing what had happened as he noticed the shift in your demeanor. “w-what did you do?” his voice was small, trembling with fear as his eyes darted from your phone to your face, dread sinking in fast.

you leaned down, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with surprising gentleness, and a sweet peck on his lips. “just reminding you who really holds the power here, rafe,” you whispered softly, your voice laced with a wicked edge. “you thought you could talk shit about me behind my back? guess again.”

rafe’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, his body weak and uncoordinated. “no, no, no—what did you send? please, baby, please!” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

you straightened up, staring down at him, your smile never faltering. “i sent a little reminder to all your friends. they’ll see it soon enough.”

he scrambled to reach for his phone, but it was too late. his friends were already watching the video, seeing him like they’d never seen him before—broken, crying, at your feet, worshiping you. and with that message—looks like the pogue got your boy—they’d know he wasn’t the powerful rafe cameron anymore. not with you around.

rafe’s breath hitched, panic surging through his veins as his phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table. “no,” he whimpered, tears spilling over again, pure terror flashing in his eyes as he looked up at you, utterly helpless, still with a needy gaze.

you bent down one last time, tilting his chin up so he could meet your gaze, your thumb gently brushing against his swollen lips. “next time you even think about talking behind my back,” you whispered, “remember this moment. because there’s more where that came from.”

with that, you walked away, leaving rafe alone in the room, his phone lighting up with messages from his friends, the weight of his humiliation crushing him.

you didn’t even glance back as the door clicked shut behind you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

you owned him now. completely.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[lqveharrington]

The Alchemy | D.M.

summary: Although Draco promised that he would keep your relationship a secret just for you, he can’t contain himself after winning the Hogwarts quidditch cup.

pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

includes: FLUFF, established relationship (and a last name of Evergreen for the reader)

a/n: inspired by the olympics recently ❤️

When Draco asked you out in fourth year, you thought it was a joke. Sure, you were both acquainted due to your pure wizardry bloodline, but you were in Hufflepuff. The only time the other houses thought you were useful was when they wanted to sneak into the kitchen. So when he came up and sat down beside you when you were studying potions, you were disheartened.

“Malfoy, please don’t do this.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You were just starting to understand what ingredients made a truth serum.

“Do what? I’m asking you if you want to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” He spun the Malfoy signet ring adorning his hand.

You look up at him with tired eyes, “Did someone put you up to this?”

“What? No no, I—“ He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at how you were able to fluster him with even a small glance. “I’m really asking you to go on a date with me.”

You search his face for any indication of a lie, before biting your lip softly and looking down at your parchment. “Are you really?”

“I am.” Draco dropped his hand onto yours to stop your fidgeting with the quill.

You felt your own face heat up at the notion. He thumbed your palm softly as you stayed quiet, not minding his closeness. Finally, you looked up at him, “You have yourself a date, Malfoy.” He sent you a soft smile but before he could say anything else, you interrupted. “Please don’t let me down.”

Draco never let you down. Despite your earlier doubts, you saw how kind and thoughtful the Malfoy heir was underneath his hardened shell his father had built around him. In private, he was always attentive, loving, clingy — there wasn’t a moment where he was separated from you. In public, he had to rein in those feelings just for you.

Even when you started your seventh year at Hogwarts, you were still terrified what others at school would say about a Hufflepuff dating the Slytherin Prince. Sure, his parents and your parents knew, but not the entirety of Hogwarts. You had asked Draco to keep your relationship private until you were ready to face the reality of your relationship to the rest of the world. He begrudgingly agreed, respecting your wishes; but the need to kiss you in front of the entire student body to rightly claim that you were his was wavering.

Especially when it had been three years since you first started dating. And right now, you were currently hiding below the stands together as you greeted him with good luck kisses for his final quidditch match as a student in Hogwarts.

“I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. You say softly as he holds you close by your hips — smiling into all your kisses. “Good.” Kiss. “Luck.” Kiss.

“You’re killing me here, love.” Draco murmurs against your lips. He pulls away gently to look at your ever so loving gaze. He draws small hearts on you hip, “You done?”

“Never.” You kiss him again, hands cupping his jaw. “I want you to be stuck with me forever.”

He hums into the kiss as you thumb his cheeks softly, “I will after I win this game, my love.”

You separate again, grinning like a lovesick puppy. “Good luck, Dray. I’ll see you later.” You press one last kiss to his lips before leaving his arms and running up the Hufflepuff stands to cheer. You couldn’t deny that even after all these years he still made you giddy and red.

Draco shook his head with a soft smile only you could coax out of him. He walked out from the stands and hopped on his broom, ready in the air for his final match as Slytherin’s seeker. Cheers filled the stadium as the players took their place, captains shaking hands.

The final match for Slytherin and Gryffindor was probably the most anticipated all year round. Since it was also Harry Potter’s last game as seeker, and the two seekers were known as rivals, it was hyped up to be one of the best end matches of the season.

As the game progressed, Slytherin and Gryffindor were constantly tied. It was really up to the seekers to find the golden snitch to determine the winner. There were bets taking place in the house stands, mind fixated on earning a few galleons for the last time. For the Hufflepuff stands, they were a house divided. Many cheered for scarlet and gold while the other half cheered for green and silver.

You didn’t mind the division between your house. After all, you only watched the games for Draco. Your friends were cheering for the Gryffindors whilst you carried the small Slytherin flag in your hands — eyes trained on the blonde high above the game itself. The second you blinked from the blazing sun, Draco was soaring after the golden snitch, Harry close behind and eventually flying right next to him.

The shouts from the stands only fueled the seekers’ attention to the flying gold. Draco and Harry were chasing in circles after the snitch, attention focused on nothing else even as the bludger zoomed past them.

You held your breath as they both reach out for the snitch. Your friend held your shoulder in anticipation, watching the two closely. Before you could register what happened, she gasped and shook your shoulders in frustration.

“I lost ten galleons to that!” She sighed heavily as Draco flashed the golden snitch in the air.

The rush of the win made you scream happily with the other Hufflepuffs and houses cheering for the Slytherin team. You wear clapping your hands as the team began flying around in victory. You watched as Draco flew around the stands more as the rest of the Slytherin team settled on the grounds. His eyes scanned the stadium until they lit up when they saw you at the very front of the Hufflepuff stands — waving your Slytherin flag with pride.

“Seems like Malfoy is off showing the last snitch he’ll catch for the Slytherin quidditch team! But we all want to know where the trophy is!” The third year announcer spoke, voice casted across the stadium.

You smiled at Draco softly when you finally met his eyes. And before you knew it, he flew right over to you and cupped your face, kissing you senselessly. You grinned into the kiss as you held his cheeks, the shouts and screams from your housemates blending in your ears.

“Aw, quite a beautiful way to celebrate the win. Don’t you think so, McGonagall? Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Malfoy and Evergreen— Ow, sorry.” The third year announcer spoke once more, rubbing the spot the professor lightly hit them with a newspaper.

You part from Draco with a blinding smile, “I think I agree, this is a beautiful way to celebrate.” You say quietly only for him to hear, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

“I’m proud of you, love.” Draco nudges your nose with his to gently stop your kisses for a second — even though he did want more.

“Me? You just won the quidditch cup for your house!” You laugh while wrapping your arms behind his neck, careful in trying not to pull him off his broom.

He rubbed the apples of your cheeks, “You just let me kiss you in front of the entire student body… I think that’s more important.” He pulled you in for another mind searing kiss, making you smile helplessly.

“AGAIN?” The third year announcer shouted into the microphone once more. “Is there—“

“Alright, we’re done announcing, boys and girls.” Professor McGonagall spoke and shut the speakers off; although she was quite happy for the couple.

You giggled as he pulled you into a hug. “I love you.”

Draco pressed kisses to your cheek repeatedly, “I love you more.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[bywons]

GIVE ME ONE MORE KISS 𖥔 PSH

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽

❪ 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐶𝑖𝑆 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 11O4wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 ／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

する ܃ sorry for da late upload, practicals this week was too hectic :< for silly hoon girlies :0

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

“sunghoon— what are you doing? my parents will see us!” you hiss at him, giving him the look over your shoulders as your hands are already busy with the dishwashing.

sunghoon doesn't look the least bit fazed by your words. instead, he leans casually against the counter, his sharp features illuminated by the warm glow of the kitchen lights. his lips curls into a mischievous smirk as he tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

“and if they do?” he teases, his voice low and smooth like velvet.

you shoot him another glare, but it lacks its usual intensity. sunghoon was insufferable when it came to obeying you, it's almost as if your instructions fall on deaf ears. “they won't like it if we're too… close,” you whisper urgently, glancing toward the doorway.

“that's unfair, and stupid,” sunghoon whines, he steps closer to you, standing just behind you. leaning forward, he whispers back, “can’t their future son in law be close to their daughter?”

your cheeks burn at his boldness, and you immediately turn back to the sink, furiously scrubbing a plate as though it had personally offended you. “stop being so cheeky,” you hiss, but your voice waver ever so slightly, betraying the effect he has on you.

“relax, princess,” he chuckles, the sound of his laughter making your heart skip beats. but what he does next, sends a shiver down your spine. he moves even closer to you, ultimately wrapping his hands around your lower abdomen, resting his chin upon your shoulder.

“sunghoon!” you shriek, “can you let me work in peace?”

“shh,” he murmurs, leaning down so his lips were near your ear. “i’m just helping.”

before you could finish, sunghoon reaches around you, his long fingers brushing yours as he picks up a wet plate from the drying rack. “drying,” he said simply, his tone far too innocent for someone who had you blushing like this.

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he shoots back without missing a beat, making you groan in exasperation.

although you want to get used to this moment, to sunghoon holding you within his embrace and warmth, you want the clock to stop itself and freeze the time around the both of you. he brought smiles and giggles to your face so effortlessly each time, and it made you wonder if he'd like to do that the rest of your life.

but that's a question for tomorrow, for now, all you could tense about is your parents hustling in at any moment.

in an instant, you turn the tap water off, move the washed plates to the drying racks and turn to your annoying, yet lovely boyfriend. all the irritation that you prepared in your speech evaporates in the air like vapour, as soon as you meet sunghoons mellow eyes.

“enough now,” you gather yourself, softly pushing his hands away from your waist, “my parents will come in at any minute.”

he rolls his eyes at your statement, you both know it doesn't make any difference to park sunghoon, he just wants to cling to his girlfriend.

“so?” he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, “im not going anywhere.”

you groan in frustration, your hands now resting on your hips as you face him, but the corner of your lips betrays the smile you’ve been trying to hold back.

“sunghoon…” you start, but his hand is already on your cheek, gently turning your face toward him.

“you don’t want me to go?” he asks, his voice low, teasing. and before you can even form a response, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

you gasp in surprise, but he doesn’t give you the chance to push him away. his lips move slowly against yours, and he pulls back just enough to whisper between kisses.

“you don't want me to go, do you?” he repeats, pulling you closer by your hips, once again snatching your next sentence to press the softest kisses on your lips. once, then twice, then scattering them all over your face.

you try to find your words, but the only thing that comes out is a breathless laugh. “i... i—”

he kisses you once more, his lips gently pressing against yours along with his body as he wraps you to himself, he moves his lips tenderly, before pulling away to leave you dizzy. “i’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” another kiss follows, and your thoughts scatter.

“sunghoon, stop it.” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper as he moves in again, kissing you once more.

but his playful smirk only deepens as he kisses you again, this time even more passionately. “stop? why would i stop when you’re so cute when you try to resist?”

your heart races, and you’re almost overwhelmed with how good he feels against you. Every kiss makes your mind blank, and the tension in your body melts away, but your thoughts struggle to hold on. you want him to let go and go away, but at the same time, you want him here with you forever “my parents… they’ll—”

“they’ll deal with it, love,” he whispers back in an urgency. within a split of a second he’s back on your lips, arms holding you close like a fragile doll made of glass. you hold onto him as well, smiling into the kiss, as you feel sunghoon smile back into it.

you almost lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace, your hands instinctively moving to wrap around his neck. but just as you begin to give in completely, the faint sound of footsteps echoing down the hall snaps you back to reality.

you pull away just slightly, breathless, and look toward the door. “sunghoon… seriously, they’re coming.”

he looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but there’s something tender there too. he leans forward again, kissing you once more, and then pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.

just as the footsteps intensify and stop outside the kitchen door, almost like magic sunghoon stands beside you, normally, without any part of him lingering on your body or face. “good evening, sir!” he greets your dad with a coy smile.

“evening, young man,” your dad says in an uninterested tone, eyes narrowing, he asks, “i suppose your behavior towards my girl was apt, in the time we were gone.”

“of course,” he grins, taking a glance at you and then at your dad, before he blurts out, “nothing you need to worry about, sir.”

© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[jupiterpilgrim]

Teach 'Em a Lesson: The Bold Guide to Putting Bullies in Their Place

Gaeul x Male Reader

word count: 7.2K

You're chilling at Gaeul's place with the crew, sprawled on her comfy couch playing Pokemon on your phone. Your friends are getting restless, talking about grabbing some pizza from that fancy joint across town.

"Yo guys, let's roll! I'm fucking starving," one of your friends says, jangling the car keys.

Everyone starts walking towards the door, but there's only room for five, and there are six of you. Well, you are very focused on your game, so without much suffering you accept the mission to be exiled from the pizza run.

But...

Gaeul waves goodbye to them, saying she'll stay behind as well.

"Someone's gotta babysit the nerd," she snickers, jerking her thumb at you.

You barely look up from your game, used to her constant teasing. At 5'5; Gaeul's a tiny thing but she makes up for it with attitude. Her boyish style - baggy jeans, oversized hoodie hiding her small tits - doesn't stop her from being hot as fuck.

Not that you'd ever admit that to her face.

The door slams shut and suddenly it's just you two. The silence feels different now. Gaeul flops down next to you, peering at your screen.

"Seriously? Pokemon? No wonder you can't get any pussy,” she taunts, poking your arm.

"Fuck off, I date plenty," you mutter, trying to focus on your battle.

She lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah right! Name one girl you've fucked."

"None of your fucking business." Your ears burn but you keep your eyes on the screen.

"Ha! Virgin alert!" She's grinning now, enjoying getting under your skin. "Bet you've never even kissed anyone. Too busy jerking it to anime titties."

Your jaw clenches. "I said: fuck off…"

"I don't know how we have friends in common."

"Shut up, Gaeul..."

"Make me, virgin boy!" She snatches your phone, holding it just out of reach. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Something snaps inside you. In one fluid motion, you grab her wrist and pin her against the couch. She squeaks in surprise, eyes going wide. your phone falls onto the couch seat next to you.

"The fuck did you just call me? Say it again!" you growl, pressing her down. Your body covers hers completely.

"I-I... virgin boy?" Her voice wavers but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before.

You grip both her wrists now, holding them above her head. "Ha! Wrong answer."

Her breath hitches. You can feel her pulse racing under your fingers. That's when you notice it - the way she's squirming isn't to get away. Her thighs press together, hips shifting restlessly.

"Holy shit," you breathe. "You like this, don't you? The tough girl act is just that - an act."

"N-no!" But her face flushes red and her nipples are hard points visible through her hoodie.

You lean down, lips brushing her ear. "Lying bitch! I can feel how wet you are through your jeans." She whimpers, and that sound goes straight to your cock. "Wanna see how much of a virgin I am?" You grind against her, letting her feel how hard you are.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Just proving that even an annoying brat like you can turn me on too."

"Fuck you, n-nerd…" she whispers, but there's no bite in it. Her pupils are dilated, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Bedroom. Now." You release her wrists but maintain eye contact, daring her to disobey.

For a moment she hesitates, then scrambles up and leads the way to her room.

The second you're through her door, you grab her hoodie and yank it over her head. No bra underneath - her small tits are perfect handfuls topped with hard pink nipples.

"Fucking slut, walking around braless," you growl, pinching one nipple roughly. She cries out, legs trembling. "Bet you were hoping for this, weren't you?"

"No, I... ah!" She gasps as you twist harder.

"Still lying?" You spin her around, bending her over the edge of her bed. "Let's see how wet you really are."

You pull her jeans and cotton boyshorts down to her knees. Her pussy is dripping, juice running down her thighs.

"Look at that," you laugh darkly, running two fingers through her folds. "Soaked just from being manhandled a little. What a pathetic little sub you are."

“I-I'm not pathetic…”

She tries to close her legs but you kick them apart, keeping her spread wide. Your fingers circle her clit, making her moan.

"Please..." she whimpers.

"Please what?" You slide one finger inside her tight hole. "Use your words, slut."

"Please... oh… fuck me..." Her voice is barely a whisper.

You add a second finger, pumping them slowly. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."

"Fuck me!" she practically screams. "Please, I need your cock!"

"That's better." You pull your fingers out and wipe them on her ass. "But first..."

Your hand comes down hard on her right cheek. She yelps but pushes back for more.

"Gonna spank this attitude right out of you."

You alternate cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle. Each hit makes her pussy drip more, a puddle forming on the floor. Her ass turns a beautiful shade of pink.

"Count them," you order.

SMACK!

"One!" she gasps.

SMACK!

"Two!"

By ten, she's sobbing and rutting against nothing. Her ass is bright red and hot to the touch.

"Good girl," you purr, rubbing the beaten flesh. "Now, on your knees!"

Half nervous and half anxious, she hurriedly gets rid of the pieces of clothing still on her knees, almost tripping in the process.

You take off your shoes and unzip your jeans, taking off your pants along with your underwear, letting your rock-hard cock spring free.

The sight before you makes your cock throb with anticipation - Gaeul, the annoying little brat who's been pushing your buttons for months, completely naked and on her knees in her bedroom. Her petite body trembles slightly as she stares at your massive erection, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and unmistakable lust.

You've finally figured out her game. All those times she went out of her way to irritate you, to get under your skin - it wasn't just random bitchiness. No, this pathetic slut has been desperately trying to get your attention the only way she knew how.

"Like what you see?" you growl, slowly stroking your shaft. "This is what you've been after all along, isn't it?"

Gaeul swallows hard, her small breasts rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples are rock hard, betraying her arousal despite her attempts to play innocent.

"I... I don't know what you mean..." she stammers, but her eyes remain locked on your cock.

You step closer, close enough that your cockhead brushes against her flushed cheek. She gasps but doesn't pull away.

"Don't play dumb with me, you little tease. All those times you went out of your way to annoy me, to get under my skin... you were just begging to be put in your place, weren't you?"

Your hand shoots out to grab a fistful of her silky black hair, yanking her head back roughly. She yelps in surprise and pain, but you can see her thighs pressing together, trying to relieve the ache between them.

"Look at you, getting wet just from being manhandled again," you taunt, using your free hand to slap your cock against her cheek. "Such a pathetic little slut. Admit it - admit what you really are!"

"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your grip.

You tighten your hold on her hair, making her gasp. "That's not what I want to hear. Tell me the truth - tell me why you've been such an annoying little bitch."

Tears form in the corners of her eyes, but they're not tears of fear or pain.

No.

These are tears of shameful arousal as she finally faces what she really is.

"Because... I-I'm sorry… because I wanted this," she whispers.

"Wanted what? Be specific, whore."

"I wanted you to get angry! To put me in my place!" The words burst from her like a dam breaking. "I wanted you to see what a desperate slut I am! Please... please use me..."

You smirk, satisfied with her confession. "That's better. Now open that bratty mouth of yours - time to put it to better use than talking back to me."

Gaeul parts her lips eagerly as you press your cockhead against them. Her tongue darts out to taste you, making your shaft twitch. But you're not interested in letting her take her time exploring.

Gripping both sides of her head firmly, you thrust forward, forcing your thick cock past her lips. She gags immediately as you hit the back of her throat, but you don't let up.

"Relax that throat, slut," you command. "You wanted my attention? Well, now you've got all of it."

You start fucking her face properly, each thrust going deeper than the last. Tears stream down her cheeks as she struggles to accommodate your size, but her eyes are glazed with unmistakable lust.

"Look at you, choking on cock like you were born for it," you taunt as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold yourself deep, cutting off her air. "Is this what you imagined when you were being an annoying little tease? Getting your throat used like a cheap fleshlight?"

Gaeul can only make gurgling sounds in response, drool running down her chin and coating your shaft. You hold yourself there until her face starts turning red, then pull back to let her gasp for air.

"Please..." she begs hoarsely between coughs. "I need more... need you to fuck my pussy too..."

"Oh, you'll get that tight cunt stuffed soon enough," you promise. "But first, I'm going to make sure you never forget what happens to bratty little sluts who don't know how to ask nicely for cock."

You slam back into her mouth, setting a brutal pace that has her gagging and retching around your shaft. Her throat spasms beautifully with each deep thrust, but she doesn't try to pull away. Instead, she grabs your thighs, trying to take you even deeper.

"Such a natural cocksucker," you grunt, watching your dick disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "All that attitude, and all you really needed was to be throat-fucked into submission."

After thoroughly using her mouth, you finally pull out. Gaeul gasps for air, her face a mess of tears, drool, and smeared makeup. Without giving her time to recover, you grab her arms and throw her onto the bed.

"Ass up, face down," you order. "Show me that needy pussy you've been hiding under those baggy jeans."

She scrambles to obey, getting into position and arching her back to present herself to you. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, her inner thighs glistening with her arousal. You run your cock through her soaked folds, coating it in her juices.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," you observe. "Your cunt's practically drooling. Beg for it, slut! Tell me how badly you need this cock."

"Please fuck me!" she cries out, pushing back against your teasing shaft. "I need it so bad... need you to fill me up and use me like the whore I am! I've been such a bad girl, teasing you all this time... please punish my pussy!"

You line up with her entrance and thrust in hard, making her scream. Her cunt is incredibly tight, gripping your cock like a vice as you force your way deeper. Each inch stretches her walls, making her whole body tremble.

"Fuck, you really are a desperate little slut," you grunt, starting to pound her roughly. "Your pussy's practically sucking me in. Is this what you've been dreaming about while playing your little games?"

Gaeul moans uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as you ravage her tight hole. Each brutal thrust makes her small tits bounce and jiggle. You reach down to pinch and twist her nipples, making her clench even tighter around your cock.

"Yes! Yes! Harder!" she begs shamelessly. "Use my slutty pussy! Make me your fucktoy! I've wanted this for so long!"

You increase your pace, slamming into her cervix with each stroke. The wet sounds of your cock plowing her needy cunt fill the room, along with her desperate moans and whimpers. Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, practically gushing around your shaft.

"You're going to cum on my cock like the whore you are," you tell her. "Then I'm going to take that virgin asshole too. Going to claim every hole you've got."

Her pussy spasms at your words.

"My... my ass? But I've never... No… it's too big..."

"That tight little hole belongs to me now," you growl, reaching around to rub her clit roughly as you continue pounding her pussy. "I'm going to stretch it out and fill it with cum. Mark you as my personal fucktoy."

Gaeul's moans rise in pitch, her body tensing up as your fingers work her sensitive clit. Combined with the relentless pounding of her pussy, it's quickly pushing her toward the edge.

"Cum for me, slut. Show me how much you love being used like this."

She screams as her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock. You fuck her through it mercilessly, prolonging her pleasure until she's sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

Without pulling out, you gather some of her abundant wetness and press a finger against her virgin asshole. She whimpers as you slowly work it inside, her tight ring of muscle resisting the intrusion.

"Please be gentle..." she begs. "I've never had anything in there..."

"You'll take what I give you," you growl, adding a second finger to stretch her tight hole. "This ass is mine now, just like the rest of you."

You finger-fuck her thoroughly, making sure she's ready for your cock. Her whimpers of discomfort gradually turn to moans of pleasure as her body adjusts to the new sensation. You can feel her pushing back against your fingers, hungry for more.

Finally, you pull out of her pussy and press your cockhead against her stretched asshole. "Deep breath, slut. Here comes your first assfucking."

You push forward slowly but steadily, watching your cock disappear into her virgin hole. Gaeul cries out, clutching the sheets as you stretch her wider than your fingers did. Her whole body trembles as you claim her last untouched hole.

"That's it, take it all," you encourage as you sink deeper. "Such a good little anal slut... taking cock in your virgin ass like you were made for it."

When you're fully buried in her ass, you pause to let her adjust. Her whole body is shaking, caught between pain and pleasure as her tight hole stretches around your thick shaft.

"Move..." she finally whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please... fuck my ass... make me completely yours..."

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. Her tight hole grips your cock beautifully, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each stroke becomes easier as her body accepts the invasion.

"Look at you, taking cock in your virgin ass like a natural," you taunt, watching your shaft disappear into her stretched hole over and over. "You really are just a complete whore, aren't you? Born to take cock in all your holes."

"Yes, sir!" she moans, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "I'm your whore! Your anal slut! Please fuck me harder! Use my ass!"

You grant her wish, picking up the pace until you're properly fucking her ass. The sight of your cock plunging in and out of her stretched hole is incredible. You reach around to play with her dripping pussy, finding her clit swollen and sensitive.

"You're actually getting off on having your ass fucked," you marvel, feeling how wet she still is. "Such a perfect little fucktoy... getting your virgin ass stretched and loving every second of it!"

Gaeul can only moan in response, her body rocking with each thrust. You can feel her getting close to another orgasm, her holes clenching rhythmically around your cock and fingers.

"Cum for me again," you order, rubbing her clit faster. "Cum while I fuck this tight ass. Show me what a complete slut you've become."

Your fingers work her sensitive nub as you pound her ass, and soon she's screaming through another intense orgasm. The way her asshole spasms around your cock pushes you closer to your own climax.

"Where do you want my cum, slut?! Tell me how you want me to mark you as mine."

"In my ass!" she begs desperately. "Please cum deep in my ass! Fill me up... make me yours completely! I want to feel your hot cum inside me!"

You grab her hips with both hands and start fucking her ass with abandon, chasing your release. Her tight hole feels amazing, squeezing and milking your cock perfectly. Each thrust makes her whole body shake, her moans getting louder and more desperate.

"Take it all," you grunt as you finally explode, flooding her ass with hot cum. "Every last fucking drop... marking this tight hole as mine forever..."

You stay buried deep as you empty yourself inside her, making sure she takes every drop of your seed. When you finally pull out, cum immediately starts leaking from her gaping hole, running down her thighs in thick rivulets.

Gaeul collapses onto the bed, thoroughly used and satisfied. Her holes are red and swollen, leaking your cum and her own juices. You give her ass a hard slap, making her jump and moan weakly.

"From now on, you're mine," you tell her firmly. "No more bratty behavior - unless you want another lesson like this one. Understand?"

She looks back at you with glazed eyes, cum still dripping from her well-fucked ass. "Yes, sir... I'll be good, I… fuck… I promise..."

“Too busy catching Pikachus to catch some pussy, huh? What a shitty stereotype…”

"I thoug-"

“Shut up. Answer me: still think I'm a virgin?" you ask with a smirk.

She laughs weakly. "Definitely not. Fuck, I'm not gonna be able to sit right for days.”

"Good." You give her ass one final smack, making her yelp. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before talking shit.”

"Maybe," she grins. "Or maybe I'll just have to keep provoking you."

You grab her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss. "Careful what you wish for, little slut. I might just have to teach you another lesson." She moans into the kiss. Your lips move down to her neck, where you leave a few bite marks, just so she remembers you when she looks in the mirror later. "The others will be back soon," you remind her. "Better clean yourself up before they see what a whore you really are."

Gaeul struggles to sit up, wincing at the soreness in her ass.

You head back to the living room, leaving her to clean up the mess you made of her. When you settle back on the couch and pick up your phone, the Pokemon game is still running.

A few minutes later, Gaeul emerges, walking down the stairs with a certain distrust in her expression, wearing fresh clothes, but walking with a slight limp. She sits gingerly on the opposite end of the couch, unable to meet your eyes.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently. "You're usually so talkative."

She squirms uncomfortably. "Shut up..."

"That's not very nice, Gaeul." You give her a warning look. "Do we need another lesson already?"

Gaeul's eyes go wide and she quickly shakes her head. "No! Not now! I-I mean... I'll be good."

"That's what I thought." You turn back to your game with a satisfied smile, knowing you've finally found the perfect way to handle your bratty tomboy bully.

—

The sound of cars pulling up outside announces the return of your friends. Gaeul quickly tries to fix her messy hair and straighten her clothes, but there's no hiding the fresh bite marks on her neck or the slight tremor in her hands.

"Hey guys, we're back with pizza!" calls out one of your friends as they enter the house. "Hope you two didn't kill each other while we were gone!"

If they only knew.

Your friends pile into the living room, carrying several pizza boxes and drinks. They seem oblivious to the tension in the air or the way Gaeul can barely sit still.

"Everything okay?" one of them asks, noticing Gaeul's unusual quietness. "You seem different."

“I'm fucking fine!”

Gaeul blushes deeply. Your friends look confused but shrug it off, too focused on the food to question further.

As everyone settles in to eat, you catch Gaeul stealing glances at you when she thinks no one is looking. Each time your eyes meet, she quickly looks away, but you can see the mixture of fear and arousal in her expression.

You make sure to sit next to her on the couch, close enough that your thigh presses against hers. She tenses but doesn't move away, especially when you rest your hand on her knee under the pretense of reaching for a slice of pizza.

"So what did you guys do while we were gone?" someone asks between bites.

"Just played some games," you say casually, squeezing Gaeul's thigh. "Taught Gaeul a few new things."

She nearly chokes on her pizza, earning concerned looks from your friends. "Are you okay?" they ask as she coughs.

"Fine," she manages to say. "Just... went down the wrong way."

You smirk, knowing exactly what went down her throat earlier. Your hand slides higher up her thigh, making her squirm.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of pizza, conversation, and subtle torment as you continue to tease Gaeul under the radar of your oblivious friends. Every touch makes her jump, every whispered comment makes her blush.

Now you understand why she teases you.

It's so fucking pleasurable.

When everyone finally starts heading home for the night, you hang back, pretending to look for your phone. As the last friend leaves, you corner Gaeul in the kitchen.

"Think you learned your lesson?" you ask, pressing her against the counter.

She nods quickly, her breath catching as you lean in close. "Yes... I won't be mean anymore."

"Good girl." You grab her ass roughly, making her gasp. "But just to make sure it sticks..."

Before she can protest, you spin her around and bend her over the kitchen counter. Your hand slides into her shorts, finding her already wet.

"Fuck, you're soaked again," you growl in her ear. "Did you get turned on sitting there in front of everyone, knowing what a whore you are?"

"Please," she whimpers. "They might come back..."

"Better be quiet then." You pull her shorts down just enough to expose her ass and pussy. "Wouldn't want them to see their tough tomboy friend being used like a fucktoy."

You unzip your pants and line up with her entrance, sliding into her still-tight pussy in one smooth thrust. Gaeul bites her lip to keep from moaning as you start fucking her against the counter.

"Such a good little slut now," you grunt, gripping her hips. "Amazing what a proper fucking can do to fix an attitude problem."

Your pace increases, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the kitchen. Gaeul's legs shake as she tries to stay quiet, small whimpers escaping despite her best efforts.

You reach around to rub her clit while you pound into her, feeling her pussy clench around your cock. Her whole body trembles as another orgasm approaches.

"Please," she whispers desperately. "I'm so close..."

"Cum for me," you command, working her clit faster. "Show me what a good girl you can be."

Gaeul buries her face in her arm to muffle her scream as she cums hard, her pussy spasming around your shaft. You fuck her through her orgasm until she's practically sobbing from overstimulation.

Just as you're about to cum, you pull out and spin her around, forcing her to her knees. "Open your mouth. Take your reward like a good slut."

She obeys immediately, looking up at you with those big eyes as you stroke your cock. With a grunt, you explode all over her face, covering her in thick ropes of cum.

"Don't move," you order as you tuck yourself away. "I want to remember you like this - on your knees, covered in my cum, finally learning your place."

Gaeul stays still, cum dripping down her face onto her chest. She looks thoroughly debauched and completely submissive.

"Clean yourself up," you say, heading for the door. "And remember - any time you start acting like a bitch again, this is what happens."

As you leave her house, you can't help but smile thinking about how different things will be now. The dynamic between you and Gaeul has shifted completely - no more will she bet the untouchable tomboy who loves to torment you. Now you know what she really needs, what she's been craving all along.

—

You sit in class, bored as fuck scrolling through your phone under the desk. A notification pops up - it's from Gaeul. Your heart skips a beat seeing that familiar contact name. Opening the message, you nearly drop your phone - this crazy bitch sent you a pic of her tight ass with an anal plug inserted, taken in what looks like the girls' bathroom. The caption reads "Missing your fat cock stretching me out... meet me after class? 😈"

You adjust yoursel in secret, already getting hard remembering how you bent her over your desk yesterday and fucked her tight ass until she was begging for more. It still amazes you how things changed between you two. For months she tormented you - calling you names, tarnishing your image at college, making fun of you in front of your friends…

Until that one day you finally snapped.

Now here you are three months later, sexting during class while pretending nothing's changed in public, with a phone full of filthy videos and pictures of your former bully. Videos of her fucking herself with toys, close-ups of her stretched holes, clips of her begging for your cock. On the surface she still acts tough, but you know the truth - she's just a needy anal slut who craves being dominated.

Your phone buzzes again - another pic from the bathroom, this time showing her fingers buried in her dripping pussy. "Can't wait anymore... Come fuck me NOW!!"

You raise your hand, making up some bullshit excuse about feeling sick. The professor waves you out and you practically run to the second floor bathroom where you know she's waiting. The halls are empty since class is still in session.

You slip inside the second floor bathroom and there she is - still in her typical tomboy getup of baggy jeans and oversized hoodie. Her short hair is slightly messy and her cheeks are flushed. The contrast between her tough exterior and what you know lies underneath makes your cock throb.

"Took you long enough, nerd," she smirks, but you can see the desperate hunger in her eyes. Her tough girl act doesn't work on you anymore - not since you discovered what a submissive little slut she really is.

"Shut the fuck up," you growl, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the cold tile wall. She gasps, her pupils dilating with lust. "Sending me pictures like that while I'm in class... you're such a desperate whore."

"Hmm, maybe I am," she taunts, grinding against your obvious bulge. "What are you gonna do about it?"

You tighten your grip on her throat, using your other hand to roughly grope her small tits through her clothes. Even through the baggy fabric you can feel her hard nipples. "I'm gonna remind you exactly who owns this body."

"Big talk from a ne-" Her words cut off in a moan as you spin her around and bend her over the sink, yanking those loose jeans down to her thighs. She's not wearing any underwear, the slut. The metal plug glints between her ass cheeks, just like in the picture she sent.

"Look at you, walking around with a plug in your ass like a proper anal whore." You give her pale ass a hard slap, leaving a red handprint. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all morning."

"Fuck... yes..." she admits, dropping the attitude as you start playing with the plug. "Haven't stopped thinking about it since last night..."

You slowly twist and pull the plug, watching her asshole grip the metal. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear the tough tomboy beg."

"Please..." she whimpers as you pop the plug out, her hole gaping slightly. "Need your cock in my ass..."

"Not good enough." You spit on her exposed hole and start working one finger in while she squirms. "Be specific. Tell me exactly what you need."

"I need... fuck..." A second finger joins the first, stretching her wider. "Need you to fuck my ass raw... need you to remind me what a slut I am..."

"Keep going." Three fingers now, roughly fucking her loosened hole while she pants and moans. "Tell me how this nerd turned you into such a whore."

"You... ah!... you showed me what I really am..." Her pussy is literally dripping onto the floor as you finger-fuck her ass. "Showed me that I'm just a cockhungry anal slut... please, I need it so bad..."

"Need what?" You curl your fingers, making her gasp.

"Need your fat cock stretching my ass! Need you to fuck me like the worthless whore I am! Please, I'll do anything!" She's practically sobbing now, all traces of her usual attitude gone.

You pull your fingers out and quickly undo your pants, letting your rock hard cock spring free. "Look at yourself in the mirror while I fuck you. I want you to watch yourself break."

Her eyes meet yours in the reflection as you line up with her gaping hole. Without warning you thrust all the way in, making her cry out. The sound echoes off the bathroom walls but you don't care - you need to put this bratty bitch in her place.

"Fuck! So big..." she moans as you establish a brutal pace, watching your cock disappear into her tight asshole over and over. She tries to muffle herself by biting her sleeve but you grab her hair and yank her head up.

"No. I want to hear every slutty sound you make. Let everyone know what a whore you are." You reach around to roughly pinch her nipples through her hoodie. "Who would believe that the tough tomboy loves taking it up the ass?"

"Only... only for you..." she pants, her whole body shaking as you rail her. "You're the only one who gets to use me like this..."

"Damn right." You pull almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her yelp. "This ass belongs to me. I fucking own you."

Your words make her moan even louder. You can see in the mirror how completely wrecked she looks - face flushed, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open as she takes your cock. Such a different sight from her usual cocky expression.

"Touch yourself," you command. "Play with that dripping pussy while I destroy your ass."

She immediately reaches down to rub her clit, her fingers moving frantically. The extra stimulation makes her ass clench around you even tighter. "Gonna... gonna cum soon..."

"Already? Such a slutty response." You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bathroom. "Cumming from getting your ass fucked in a public bathroom... what would your friends think if they could see you now?"

"Don't care... fuck... just don't stop!" She's openly crying now, tears of pleasure running down her face as you pound her mercilessly.

You grab her hips hard enough to bruise and really start hammering into her. Each thrust makes her whole body jerk forward, her small tits bouncing under the hoodie. "Come on then, cum for me. Show me what a buttslut you are."

Her orgasm hits hard - her ass spasms around your cock as she practically screams into her sleeve, her legs shaking so bad you have to hold her up. You don't slow down, fucking her through the intense climax.

"Good girl... but we're not done yet." You pull out suddenly, making her whine at the emptiness. "On your knees. Time to remind you what you're good for."

She drops to her knees immediately, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. Your cock is right in her face, still slick from her ass. Without being told, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue.

"That's right, taste yourself like the dirty slut you are." You slap your cock against her tongue a few times before shoving it down her throat. She gags but takes it like a champ, months of practice evident in how she relaxes her throat.

You grab her short hair with both hands and start properly facefucking her, using her mouth like a pussy. Tears stream down her face and drool drips from her chin but she doesn't try to pull away. If anything she moans around your cock, clearly loving the rough treatment.

"Look at me while I use your throat," you command. Her eyes lock onto yours, full of submission and need. "Such a good little fucktoy... so different from the bitch who used to bully me..."

She reaches down to play with herself again as you fuck her face, two fingers buried in her soaking pussy while her other hand works her clit. The sight of the former bully masturbating while choking on your cock pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum... gonna paint that pretty face..." You pull out of her mouth, still gripping her hair. "Stick out your tongue and beg for it."

"Please..." her voice is hoarse from the throat fucking. "Please, babe, cum on my face... mark me as your whore... I need it..."

You stroke yourself rapidly, aiming at her upturned face. "Here it comes slut... take it all..."

Your orgasm hits like a truck, shooting thick ropes of cum all over her face. Some lands on her tongue but most covers her cheeks, nose, and forehead. She moans as you mark her, still frantically fingering herself.

"Don't you dare wipe it off," you pant as the last drops fall onto her lips. "I want you to remember who owns you."

She nods, face completely glazed with your seed. "Yours... all yours..."

You tuck yourself back in while she stays on her knees, cum slowly dripping down her face. "Clean yourself up and get back to class. But leave the plug in - I want your ass ready for round two later."

"Yes sir," she says softly, finally dropping the last pretense of attitude.

As you head for the door, you turn back for one last look. She's still kneeling there, face covered in cum, jeans around her thighs, asshole gaping slightly.

Such a perfect sight.

"Oh and Gaeul?" You smirk as she looks up at you. "Try not to be such a bitch for the rest of the day. Or I'll have to teach you another lesson."

She shivers at the threat, clearly already looking forward to it. "No promises... might need another reminder later."

You leave her there to clean up, already planning how you'll use her next. Who would've thought that all it took to tame the tomboy bully was a good ass fucking?

The bell rings as you head back to class, already getting hard again thinking about round two. Maybe you take her home and fuck her in your bed, or if she can't wait that long, an empty classroom will do just as well.... The possibilities are endless when you have such an eager anal whore at your disposal.

—

Later that week, you're hanging out with friends at the campus coffee shop when Gaeul suggests everyone come to her place to watch something.

—

The movie blares on the TV screen, flickering shadows across the room. Your friends are all sprawled out, zoned in, eyes glued to the action unfolding. But you? You’re only half-paying attention because Gaeul's sitting beside you, her hand resting a little too close, fingers drumming against the couch arm. Every slight touch feels like electricity shooting through your veins.

Then she shifts, stretches out her arms with a feigned yawn. "I'm grabbing something upstairs," she mumbles to the room. No one even looks up. She rises, tossing a quick, knowing glance your way before slipping out. Your cock throbs in your pants as you watch her walk away, her ass moving in those intentionally short shorts.

You count to sixty slowly before making your own excuse.

"Just gonna grab another beer," you say casually. No one even looks up from the TV.

Perfect.

Your heart pounds as you climb the stairs, already imagining how you're going to wreck that tight ass. The door to Gaeul's bedroom is slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. You open the door slowly and there she is, sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for you, her ankle bouncing impatiently.

“I thought you’d never show up,” she says with a smile.

Without wasting any time, you approach and spin Gaeul around and roughly bend her over the edge of the bed, yanking her panties down in one swift motion. Your cock throbs at the sight of her tight little asshole already glistening with lube - this dirty slut came prepared, knowing she was going to get her ass destroyed tonight.

"Fucking horny little whore," you growl, giving her ass a hard slap that makes her yelp. "Already lubed up and ready for my cock. Bet you've been thinking about this all day."

"Please," she whimpers, pushing her ass back toward you. "Need it so bad..."

You unzip your pants and pull out your rock-hard cock, giving it a few slow strokes as you admire her puckered hole. Your free hand spreads her ass cheeks wider, making her squirm with anticipation.

"Beg for it," you command, rubbing your cockhead teasingly against her entrance. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"Fuck, please... need your fat cock in my tight little asshole," she pants desperately. "Want you to stretch me open and wreck my ass while everyone's downstairs. Please fuck me like the anal slut I am!"

You press your thick tip against her hole, watching it start to stretch around your girth. "Such a dirty fucking whore, begging to get ass-fucked with your friends right below us. What would they think if they knew their tough tomboy friend was really just a cock-hungry buttslut?"

Gaeul moans as you start pushing into her impossibly tight hole. The lube helps, but her ass still grips your cock like a vice as you feed more and more of your length into her. You can feel every ridge and fold of her inner walls clinging to your shaft.

"Holy fuck, you're so tight... No matter how many times I ruin your ass, it always looks like virgin territory," you grunt, gripping her hips harder. "That little asshole is squeezing my cock so good."

"More," she gasps, biting down on her pillow to muffle her sounds. "Fill me up, stretch my ass open!"

You continue pushing forward until your balls are pressed against her dripping pussy. Your entire cock is buried in her ass, making her feel completely stuffed and stretched. You hold still for a moment, savoring the incredible tightness.

"That's it, take every inch like a good little anal whore," you growl in her ear, reaching around to roughly grope her small tits. Her nipples are rock hard between your fingers. "Ready to get that ass pounded?"

"Yes! Please fuck me hard," she begs in a desperate whisper. "Wreck my tight hole!"

You pull back until just the tip remains inside, then slam forward balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Gaeul lets out a choked cry into the pillow as you establish a rough rhythm, your cock pistoning in and out of her stretched asshole.

The wet sounds of anal sex fill the room - the obscene squelching of lube, the meaty slap of your balls against her pussy, the muffled moans she can't quite contain. Her whole body rocks with the force of your thrusts as you hammer into her tight hole.

"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear over and over into her gripping asshole. "Love seeing this tight little hole stretch around my fat cock. Such a perfect anal slut."

You grab a handful of her hair and yank her head back, making her arch her spine. The new angle lets you drive even deeper into her ass, hitting spots that make her whole body tremble.

"Harder!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Fucking destroy my ass, make me your buttslut!"

You respond by increasing your pace, absolutely ravaging her tight hole. Your heavy balls slap against her soaking wet pussy with each thrust. She's so turned on that her juices are running down her thighs.

"Look at you, getting your pussy all wet from taking it in the ass," you taunt, reaching down to rub her swollen clit. "Such a nasty little whore, getting off on having your asshole stretched open."

Gaeul can only whimper and moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure of being used. Her ass grips and pulses around your cock, trying to milk the cum from your balls.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes you both freeze. Your cock throbs inside her stretched hole as you hold perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps pause right outside the door.

Your hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth as you stay buried balls-deep in her ass. You can feel her heart pounding, her asshole clenching even tighter around your shaft from the fear of getting caught.

After what feels like an eternity, the footsteps continue past the door and fade away down the hall. As soon as they're gone, you resume fucking her even harder than before, driven wild by the close call.

"Dirty fucking slut, almost got us caught," you growl, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Maybe I should let them catch us, let them see what a cock-hungry anal whore you really are."

She shakes her head frantically but her pussy gushes at the thought, coating your balls in her juices. The way her ass grips you tells you she's getting close to cumming.

"That's it, squeeze that cock with your tight little hole," you grunt, feeling your own orgasm building. "Gonna flood this ass with cum, mark you as my personal buttslut."

Your fingers work her clit faster as you pound her stretched asshole. Gaeul's whole body starts to shake as she approaches her peak. Her inner walls clamp down almost painfully tight around your thrusting cock.

"Cum for me," you command. "Cum with my fat cock buried in your ass like the anal slut you are!"

She explodes around you, her orgasm making her squirt all over the bed as her ass spasms around your shaft. The intense tightness pushes you over the edge and you grunt as your cock swells.

"Take it, take my fucking load," you growl as you empty your balls deep in her ass. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her stretched hole while she continues to shake and moan through her own orgasm.

You keep thrusting through both your climaxes, making obscene squelching sounds as your cum starts leaking out around your cock. Her ass is still rhythmically clenching, milking every last drop from your balls.

When you finally pull out, her gaping asshole immediately starts leaking your thick load. You watch mesmerized as white cum drips down her thighs and pools on the bedspread below.

"Holy fuck," Gaeul pants, collapsing onto the bed. Her hole is still twitching and leaking, thoroughly used and marked as yours. "That was so fucking good..."

You give her ass one slap, admiring the way it makes more cum leak out. "That's what happens to me when you keep teasing me all day long. Get your ass stretched and filled with cum while your friends are right downstairs."

She shivers at your words, reaching back to feel her gaping, cum-filled hole. "My ass is gonna be so sore tomorrow…”

"Yeah, and you love it, don't you?!"

Your cock gives an interested twitch as you watch her finger herself, scooping some of your cum out of her stretched hole. To your surprise and arousal, she brings her cum-covered fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean.

"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, feeling yourself starting to harden again already. "You really can't get enough, can you?"

She grins up at you, still tasting your cum on her tongue. "What can I say? You've turned me into such a whore for your cock. Especially in my ass."

You grab her hair and pull her up for a rough kiss, tasting yourself on her lips. Your rapidly hardening cock presses against her stomach as you devour her mouth.

"Ready for another round already?" she asks breathlessly when you break apart, feeling your erection growing. "Gonna wreck my ass again?"

"Fuck yes," you grunt, spinning her around and pushing her face-down into the mattress. "Gonna use this tight little hole until you can't walk straight tomorrow."

You spread her ass cheeks, admiring how her gaping hole is still leaking your previous load. The sight of your cum dripping from her stretched asshole has you rock hard again in seconds.

"Please," she whimpers, wiggling her hips invitingly. "Fill me up again, use me like your personal anal slut!"

You line your cock up with her cum-lubed hole and push back inside with one smooth thrust. She's still incredibly tight despite being stretched and filled with your load.

"Fuck, love how this greedy little hole just swallows my cock," you growl, starting to pound her ass again. "Such a perfect little anal whore, always ready to take it in the ass."

The mixture of cum and lube makes obscene squelching sounds as you fuck her stretched hole. Your previous load leaks out around your shaft with each thrust, running down her thighs.

"Yes! Use my ass, wreck my tight little hole!" she moans into the pillow. "Love being your anal slut!"

You grab her hips and really start hammering into her, making the bed creak dangerously. Her whole body bounces with the force of your thrusts as you ravage her sensitive hole.

Your balls slap against her dripping pussy, already coated in a mixture of her juices and your leaking cum. The dirty sounds of anal sex fill the room once again.

"Such a nasty little whore," you grunt, reaching around to pinch and twist her hard nipples. "Getting your ass fucked twice while your friends are right downstairs. Bet you love the risk of getting caught, don't you?"

"Yes!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your brutal thrusts. "Love being your secret anal slut, love taking your fat cock in my tight little ass!"

You pull her up by her hair until her back is pressed against your chest, changing the angle of penetration. Your cock drives even deeper into her stretched hole as you fuck up into her.

"That's it, ride this cock like the buttslut you are," you growl in her ear, one hand around her throat. "Show me how badly you need it in your ass."

Gaeul starts bouncing on your cock, working her hips in tight circles that make her ass grip you like a vice. Her small tits bounce with each movement as she impales herself on your shaft.

"Gonna cum again," she whimpers after a few minutes of riding you. "Please make me cum with your cock in my ass!"

You throw her back down onto the bed and really start drilling her stretched hole, pounding her g-spot through her ass wall. Your fingers find her clit again, rubbing quick circles as you ravage her.

"Cum for me, you dirty anal whore," you command. "Cum all over my cock while I wreck this tight little asshole!"

She explodes around you for the second time, her whole body convulsing as she squirts all over the already-soaked bed. Her ass clamps down painfully tight on your thrusting cock.

The incredible tightness pushes you over the edge again. You bury yourself balls-deep in her spasming hole as your cock swells and pulses.

"Take it, take another load in this slutty ass," you grunt as you empty your balls inside her again. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her already-full hole while she continues to shake through her own orgasm.

When you finally pull out, her thoroughly used asshole gapes obscenely, leaking a river of white cum onto the bed. She collapses face-down, completely fucked out and marked as yours.

"Holy fuck," she pants, reaching back to feel her destroyed hole still leaking your loads. "Fuck, I'm gonna be leaking your load all night now."

"Next time I'm gonna make you wear a plug to keep my cum inside you," you tell Gaeul as you lay down next to her, catching your breath. "Make you sit through the whole movie feeling your ass full of my load."

She shivers at the thought, clearly turned on despite being thoroughly fucked out. "Fuck, I don't think I've ever been as naughty as I am with you now...." After a moment, she rolls over to face you with an unusually serious expression. "Hey... I need to tell you something," she says quietly. "I'm getting tired of hiding this. Hiding us."

Your heart skips a beat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... fuck, this started as just casual sex after you put me in my place that day. But somewhere along the way I actually started having deep feelings for you." She looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability. "And I'm sick of pretending I don't."

You're quiet for a long moment, processing this. "I feel the same way," you finally admit. "Have for a while now."

Her eyes snap back to yours. "Really?"

"Really." You pull her closer. "I love how you try to act all tough, but I know what a needy little slut you really are. Love making you fall apart on my cock. But I also just... love being around you. Even when we're not fucking. I love when you laugh at my jokes now, much better than when you pretended not to like them. I always thought your laugh was cute."

A genuine smile spreads across her face - not her usual cocky smirk. "So what do we do about it?"

"Well, we could tell everyone we're dating," you suggest. "No more sneaking around."

"Mmm..." She pretends to consider it. "Or we could keep this our dirty little secret for a while longer. The sneaking around is pretty hot."

You grin and squeeze her ass. "True. Nothing like fucking you with the risk of getting caught."

"Exactly." She kisses you deeply. "Let's give it another month of secret fucking. Then we can go public."

"Deal." You slap her ass playfully. "Now get dressed before they come looking for us."

She quickly pulls her clothes back on, wincing slightly. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to sit in the chair tomorrow in class."

"Good." You zip up your pants. "Something to remember me by while you study."

You head back downstairs first, trying to act casual as you rejoin the group. A few minutes later, Gaeul returns with a bowl of chips like nothing happened.

But you catch her squirming uncomfortably on the couch, feeling your cum leak out of her ass. The secret knowledge of what you just did makes your cock start to stiffen again.

She notices and gives you that familiar smirk. You know you'll be sneaking off to fuck again before the night is over. Maybe this time you'll bend her over the bathroom sink and stuff her pussy full of cock while she tries to stay quiet.

The thought of all the secret hookups to come over the next month has your head spinning. Every stolen moment will be even hotter now that you know there are real feelings involved.

But for now, you focus on the movie and try not to make it obvious that you just railed your friend's ass upstairs.

The perfect crime - except for the cum still dripping down her thighs.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

❝ PROF GETO BROKE YOUR HEART & NOW YUTA IS HOT ?? ❞

✧ pairing: prof!suguru geto x f!reader (& grad student! yuta x f!reader)

✧ summary: after suguru leaves you broken hearted, yuta's there for you when you're putting your heart back together, and he's not sure when or if he even wants you to tell you how you feel. but what happens when you start to realize your feelings?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, angst, depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader and yuta are grad students, but age is vague, dealing with a breakup, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @ / polariae (who is incredible and everyone should go follow them now!!)

✧ wc: 12,464

Yuta felt as if he was always running late — for everything. 

He had transferred into this university a year into his schooling, he was always running late to meetings, and he was too late when he fell for you. 

But he seemed to have good timing in this moment — as he ran into you, as why was it he could always find you effortlessly without trying, but there was no smile on your lips when you met his gaze, but only tears — if only so he could comfort you. 

He says your name, as he stops you gently, fingers brushing against your shoulders, as your gaze falls to the ground, “What happened? Are you—” 

“Yuta, I’m sorry, I have to go—” but he stops you for a moment. 

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s completely fine, but can I call someone?” he says gently, he could see the tears slipping off your cheeks, even as you attempted to wipe them away, “I don’t think you should be alone—” 

And then you’re hugging him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t—but I—” 

His arms go around you gently, “It’s okay, don’t apologize, I’m here for you,” and he doesn’t know what else to do but stand there with you, as curious gazes of passersby watched the two of you, “come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” 

~~~

When had he fallen for you? It was hard to say, but apparently easy to see. 

“So did you tell her you like her?” And Yuta nearly spits his drink out when Maki asks him that after one of the student government meetings. She sipped at the can of black coffee, nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised at his sputtering. He wipes his mouth, a slight glare in his gaze, “based on that reaction, I would say no,” 

“What are you talking—“ and your name leaves Maki’s lips, and his cheeks flush, ears burning, as he presses his knuckles to his lips, unable to meet her gaze, “was it that obvious?” 

“To a person with eyes,” and his gaze snaps to her, a question on his lips, “no, she doesn’t know,” 

Yuta slumps back in the chair he was sitting in, as he sets his drink down on the round table, “how can I tell her? She has a boyfriend,” 

“One that she doesn’t even see that often,” Maki leans back in her chair, “I’ll give you some unsolicited advice, Yuta — if you keep having these feelings and don’t do anything about it, you’ll regret it,” 

But how could he do anything when he already knew you were struggling? It wasn’t enough that your boyfriend was far away, but he didn’t seem to make time to come see you — even on your birthday — but to push his feelings on you on top of that. It wasn’t fair. 

So he had to settle on being your friend, just your friend. 

“What happened?” He asks again when the two of you get to a secluded corner of campus, a bench far enough away, as you sniffled, wiping your tears and murmuring apologies, “you don’t have to talk about it—“ 

And you shake your head, “My boyfriend, he, uh, broke up with me,” and he stares at you — your voice wavering as you speak, “I just, didn’t expect that to, you know—“ 

Yuta tilts his head, speaking softly, “Why don’t I take you back to your apartment?” 

So he does, taking the quick metro ride there, as your fingers brush his as the two of you walk beside each other. The silence hangs as comfortably as it can, your eyes straight ahead, as he sneaks glances at you. He wants nothing more than to take your hand, to tell you it would be okay, but he couldn’t — he didn’t want to overstep. It had already been hard enough to contain his feelings when you were with someone — and now that you weren’t — he wanted nothing more than to love you as you deserved to be loved. 

But it wasn’t his love you wanted — and it wasn’t what you needed either. 

You needed a friend, not a lover, more than ever. 

“Thank you for bringing me home, Yuta,” you mumble, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess — I’m not being—“ 

“You don’t have to be anything, you’re fine,” he says softly, as you fumble with your keys, “do you want company?” 

You give a terse chuckle, as you unlock the door, “I’m not the best company right now, Yuta,” 

And he could have told you that you were the company he always wanted, the company he never would say no to — good or bad — but he couldn’t. So he said something else. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to make up for it by being very good company,” and you give a watery laugh, shaking your head, as you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” And he only steps past you into your apartment, as he smiles. 

“Come on, I’ll order us dinner and you can put on an…interesting movie again,” and your lips quirk up as you step past him into the apartment. 

He couldn’t be more than a friend — not now — but maybe at some point. But he would be happy to just be in your life. 

That was enough. 

~~~

He wasn’t enough, Suguru sat in the train, the sun long set on Tokyo as he watched the city fade into the distance — as he leaned his face against the glass of the window. He had taken a late train back to Kyoto — one of the last — he could have taken an earlier one, but he had lost track of time. 

How long did he stand there? 

It felt like hours — minutes had ticked by as such, but he knew it was long enough for him to miss several trains by the time he had left for the station. It was long enough that he saw you disappear in the distance, Yuta assumedly in tow. 

It was right — it was what was necessary. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scenery move past him in seconds, but it felt as if time had stood still. He could hear the soft snores and quiet murmuring of the sparse passengers among the train, the footsteps of others as they walked up and down the aisle, and the steady shudder of the train as it ran along to its destination. But still, it felt as if he was still trapped behind glass in that moment, he watched himself drop your heart, watched it shatter beneath his feet, and he didn’t go after you. 

Why didn’t go after you? 

He asked himself again and again — but the only answer amongst the buzzing white noise that had only served to numb his mind to the pain was that it was necessary. 

He had always known you had a bright future — you could anywhere, lecture overseas, do fellowships or a Phd program, or even become a professor elsewhere. But when he had spoke to Yaga, it had solidified in his mind even more so — he wasn’t giving you what you needed and he was holding you back while he was at it. 

And the worse part was he knew you would never blame him — not for a minute. You would try to make it work. Long distance, giving opportunities up, or even choosing him over yourself. And he couldn’t abide letting you give up what you wanted for him — even if it wasn’t what you would have chosen. Because he knew you would always choose him. 

So he had to be the one to choose you. 

He needed to leave you behind, just as he had left Tokyo. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it — and live without you. 

It was necessary. It was right — he shut his eyes, leaning against the window beside his seat, tears burning at the corners, as a tear rolled past hidden behind his hand  — so why did it feel so wrong to be without you? 

~~~

You didn’t want to wake up.  

You pulled the comforter over your head, finding refuge underneath the plush duvet, and wondering if it was possible to stay under here long enough for your problems to disappear. But you knew the pain would remain, but even so, you sought the sweet escape of sleep — if only for a few hours, you didn’t have to feel this heartache, you didn’t have to remember this. 

You didn’t have to remember him. 

And then there’s a knock on your door, a persistent knock that draws you from the arms of your only oasis under your sheets, and you drag yourself from bed, your eyes aching from your tears from last night. 

Fuck, you rubbed at your eyes. You glanced at the couch, finding no one there — when did Yuta leave last night? You couldn’t remember — and you’re dead on your feet as you find your way to the door, opening it without a thought. 

And your breath caught.  

“Suguru?” you stared, as he stood in front of you, bouquet of flowers in hand. You stumbled over your words as gracefully as you had gotten out of bed, as his arms wrapped around you. You stood motionless for a moment before melting into his touch, tears burning at your eyes yet again, “what are you doing here? Why—“ 

“What do you mean?” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours away from you,” and you’re burying your face in his chest, biting back the urge to sob then and there. 

You kept your tone as even as you can manage as you pull away, “Suguru, you said—“ 

“I know I’m early, but we can just spend some time together before we head out—“ 

And you’re shaking your head, “Head out where?” 

He furrows his brow in confusion, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Did you forget? You’re the one who insisted that we should be early — you kept saying we couldn’t be late,”

“To what?” 

“Our engagement party,” he takes your hand gently intertwining your fingers to show you the ring you wore — and you’re staring at it, as he presses sweet kisses to each of your knuckles, “now shouldn’t you get ready? Or are you the one who’ll make us late?” 

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours in a gentle kiss, warmth blooming from his touch alone, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulder. For a second, it’s real and it’s right — Suguru has found his way back to you. 

Right? 

And his lips part from yours, his fingers brushing your cheek, “I love you,” he murmurs, saying your name again and again and—

A hand brushes your shoulder and you jolt awake, your hand slapping whatever had touched you away, as your fingers grasped at your comforter. You blinked, as your breath slowed, and you had found yourself in bed—

Again. 

And another mutter of your name snaps your gaze up to find Yuta standing a foot from your bedside now, his brow wrinkled, holding his hand in the other—

Fuck. 

“Oh my god, Yuta, I’m sorry — I was having a—“ you cut off a moment, you didn’t know whether to call it a dream or a nightmare, “just, I’m sorry,” you cover your face with your hands, “I barely remember getting into bed last night,” 

He waves you off, “It’s ok, I know you had a rough night,” he offers a small smile, “I had to help you into bed — you were a little out of it, so I just stayed on the couch,” 

You groan, wishing you could burrow into the Earth and never emerge, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again—I’m sorry I made you stay—“ 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, “I’m your friend — I’m here for you,” and you swallow, tears burning at your eyes again, “s-sorry, did I?” 

And you shake your head before slipping out of bed and hugging him, “Thank you, Yuta, really,” and he wrapped his arms around you tentatively, “I think you’re my best friend,” 

You were so lucky to have him — especially when you needed someone the most. 

“Of course,” he murmured, and you didn’t not know his heart was aching ever so slightly, “you’re mine too.” 

~~~

“Do you want to talk about what happened with…your boyfriend?” Yuta knew the only way you would be able to heal is by talking about it — and that’s the one thing you had avoided doing all weekend. Sure you talked — but about the movies you were watching, about classes, about anything — then what had happened.

You hadn’t brought it up since that morning, you had washed up and it was as if he had imagined what had happened. You made breakfast, you put on a movie, and you joked about his allegedly questionable restaurant choices. But not a word about your dream or about your breakup. 

But he knew he had to ask. 

You were just coming off laughing at something that had happened in the rom-com you had switched on, and your lips fell into a seamless frown, as if the facade of happiness melted off with his words. 

Your gaze falls, arms tightening around the cushion in your lap, a bitter chuckle falling from your lips, “does anyone ever want to talk about their breakup?” 

He furrows his brow, “Bottling it up won’t help you heal from it — the only way is to let it out, and I can’t tell you what to do but—“ he bites his bottom lip, your eyes never lifting to meet his, “I know you need to let it out, one way or another,” 

You pause a moment, as you press your face against the cushion, “It hurts too much, Yu, I don’t know if I can,” 

“It doesn’t have to be now, I just want you to—“ 

“We were long distance,” and he’s opening his mouth to cut you off, but you shake your head, “you’re right — if I don’t talk about it now, I never will,” 

So you told him. Told him how you both had gotten together right before your boyfriend had received a job offer that required him to move, how the two of you decided to date regardless, and how you continued to be long distance even after he started. 

“It just got harder to see each other, and he ran late on my birthday but I didn’t care—“ and Yuta tilts his head, “I mean, I did care — but I knew it was temporary. I was going to graduate and move to be with him—“ and your nails dig into the soft fabric of the cushion, “but it didn’t matter. He thought it was for the best — for my best interest — that we break up,” 

He furrows his brow. This, the crying and heartache, was for your best interest? “Why—“ 

“Because he thought I was limiting my options, that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend — one that I deserved,” you shake your head, tossing the cushion aside on the couch, “but he didn’t understand — I just wanted him—I knew it would be different when we were together—“ your voice breaks, “but he didn’t want to wait.” 

Yuta lets you talk and lets you rant and cry — until you’re asleep after lunch, taking a nap on the couch beside him. And he wonders if this is helping, but at least you’re sleeping now — he spotted the bags under your eyes when he saw you wake in the morning — as if you had spent the entire night tossing and turning. 

Was this okay for him? He wasn’t expecting anything — aside from your friendship. He didn’t think you were going to wake up and fall in love only because he did what a friend should do. But was it okay for him to be here? 

Because he couldn’t quash the little bit of hope that inched its way into the crevice of his heart that maybe you’d heal from this — maybe you would be able to get over this and you’d see him, as more than a friend or a best friend. He wanted to think he would do this even if he didn’t have feelings for you — it would probably be easier if he didn’t. 

But the facts stand that his motivation was corrupt — he chuckled, fuck, even the philosophy you had dosed him with, during your meals and student government meetings, was infecting his mind. Motivation mattered — because if you know or expect a reward from doing something, no matter how hard you try, your motivation will always be just that,

And his eyes slide to you — fast asleep as he grabs the throw blanket on your couch and gently places it over you — but he wouldn’t mind being corrupt, if it meant he could stay with you. 

~~~

“She broke up with her boyfriend?” Maki raises an eyebrow, placing her drink down, “and you still haven’t told her?” Maki’s judgment pierced through Yuta, even as he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, biting his lip, “what are you waiting for? For her to get back together with him?” 

“Maki, I can’t make a move so soon—she’s vulnerable—“ 

She sighs, leaning back, as she crosses her arms, “Well, you’re a good guy for that, but you need to do something, even if it’s not confessing. You should try spending more time with her, encourage her to open up more—“ 

“I don’t know — I don’t want to overstep—“ 

“Yuta,” Maki cuts him off, “you’re a good guy and you deserve to be happy — you spend a lot of time worrying about other people, and not enough time thinking about yourself. If she’s not ready right now that’s fine, but she might not realize she’s ready until someone helps her to,” she tilts her head, her fingers beginning to toy with the straw of her drink, “I just don’t want to see you regret hesitating,” 

Yuta’s phone went off — your name flashing on the screen, hey, are you free to hang out and watch a movie tonight? Finally finished working on my thesis proposal for the night! 

Maki glances at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “just don’t wait too long, “or you may end up alone, either way.” 

~~~

“I told you we should have gotten dumplings tonight,” you grumble, as the two of you take your takeout back to your apartment, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, “I can’t believe the sushi place was closed,” you pout. 

And Yuta bites back a smile — his cheeks burn — god, you’re so cute. It wasn’t fair. He knew you were just mostly teasing — only so you could have the pick of the movie tonight — which you knew he’d give you anyway. 

The two of you had settled into these weekly movie nights on Fridays, which had a 70% chance of devolving into a weekend of hangouts amidst work for your programs. It had been weeks since your breakup — and your sadness seemed to ebb with each passing day, normalcy seemingly returning. 

“We could have gone there—“ and you give a long, over dramatic sigh, shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, but if this food sucks, I will be holding this over your head,” you bump him with your shoulder, a smile on Yuta’s lips, and right then someone calls out Yuta’s name. The two of you glance back, and Yuta blinks as he spots his friends. 

“Toge, Panda,” Yuta greets them, Toge’s hands raise as he begins to sign— 

Hey, who’s your friend?

Yuta replies, before gesturing to you, introducing you by name, “we’re just headed back to watch a movie—“ and he points from the shorter one to the taller one, “this is Toge and Panda,” Panda flashes a knowing smile, adjusting his leather jacket, head tilting as he gives you a small once over. Toge’s lips are covered with his face mask, his dyed silver hair brushing against his forehead — 

Panda grins between the two of you, “Ah it’s good to meet you — I heard about you from Yuta, and Maki," he adds, while Yuta shoots him a look that he hopes that you don’t notice, “how’s the work in student government? I hope Maki isn’t working you too hard,” but you seem oblivious to it, only smiling between the two of them. 

“No it hasn’t been bad, and Yuta has made it really easy. He’s been a really big help—“ and Panda before leaning over to whisper in Yuta’s ear. 

“You have a chance with her, don’t mess it up,” Panda’s elbowing him, before clapping him on the back, his arm slinking around his shoulders, while Yuta tries to will his blush to leave his cheeks, “well we should let them get going, right, Toge?” and Toge nods, and Yuta only knows Toge has a smile hidden under his mask as well, flashing a thumbs up out of your line of sight, while you glance between Yuta and Panda, “you two love birds have fun!” 

And Yuta stammered, “We’re not together like that,” he’s shooting a glare at Panda’s back as the two of them walk off, waving. And his eyes snuck a glance at you, but you seemed unfazed, only tilting your head — and shit, his head was spinning, heart doing its best to exit via his chest by banging against his ribs. Did you know? Was it obvious? Was this it? 

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,” 

And apparently it wasn’t. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I learned when I met Toge in high school,” he offers a forced smile — but relief isn’t the only thing that floods his system, disappointment comes in waves — because again, here he was, right back at the start. 

The two of you continued to chat on the walk back to your apartment, his fingers curled tightly around the handles of the takeout bag as you pulled out your keys, wondering how many more times would he do this — how many more times would he think you realized his feelings only for it to remain unspoken? He was more than okay to stay your friend, but — he watched you open the door to your apartment — would he regret not taking a shot at being something more? 

And as you glanced back at him, a smile on your lips, he knew he would. 

~~~

You didn’t think it would — but it had gotten easier, easier to be without Suguru. 

There were days you still had woken up crying, there were other days you had almost forgotten.  

Almost. 

But now in hindsight, adjusting to life without Suguru hadn’t been much different than being with him the last few months. Not when the two of you had barely seen each other. You had put away his things, tucked away the memories, and picked up the scattered parts of your life —even though you couldn’t find the piece he had taken with him. 

But even so, you had finally felt as if you boarded up the love the two of you had built, one that he had set on fire and burnt the insides to nothing but ash and smoke — the same fire that had you coughing up the broken pieces of your heart — throat burning with his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Even so — your fingers found the dragon pendant under your shirt, some things were harder to let go than others. 

But it shouldn’t be hard, right? Love shouldn’t present so many obstacles — it should be simple, easy — not difficult and tenuous. And that’s all your relationship had been — only due to circumstance, but sometimes that was enough. 

And in your case, it had been too much.  

But you knew you couldn’t have made it through without Yuta. Your eyes slide to him, his face illuminated only by the glow of the TV — lights turned off for the best movie night experience. Or at least not as quickly as you did. He was leaning back against the couch, his head leaning towards your side. 

You bite your lip. Your mind wanders to what Panda had said — love birds — it hadn’t been the first time someone had commented on the two of you together. How many of your friends had made some comments about Yuta, even the ones in student government (Maki in particular had been dropping not so subtle hints)? How many of them had you brushed off without a second thought? 

But now — ever so conscious of his weight beside you on the couch, of every twitch of his fingers, shift of his limbs — you had second thoughts. 

You had tried your best to play off Panda’s comment, and Yuta did the same, the two of you had grown used to dancing around this topic. And before you hadn’t thought of Yuta that way in the slightest— not with everything going on — not with your mind still full of Suguru. 

But now…His eyes softly lit by the bouncing lights of the movie, until they found yours, and somehow growing even softer, as his lips curled. 

“Need something?” When was it that Yuta could make your heart flutter with only a smile? He was a friend — right? Just a friend, but now—

He leans over, your heart squeezing as he does — your eyes nearly fluttering shut, his hand brushing your cheek, only for the barest of touches. And your cheeks burned in the dim light of the TV. 

“You had something on your cheek,” he explains, and you nod, biting your lip — as you snap your gaze away, and a small chuckle on his lips, “What is it?”

What was it about him now? His smile was just a smile, his eyes were just eyes, and his presence was only comfort. And now — his smile made your stomach bloom with butterflies, his eyes were depths you wished to swim in, and his presence gave you comfort but in the loneliest of ways — the gap between you both a cliff you stared down, unable to jump. 

So you shake your head instead, “It’s nothing,” you smile as you press your knuckles to your lips. 

Maybe your head was full of someone else for once. 

~~~

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” You ask Yuta — a routine for most other weeknights, as you grabbed your bag, as you wait for him outside the conference room as the student government meeting ended for another week, “I heard this new restaurant opened up near my apartment, and we could hang out at my place after—“ 

“I—“ 

“Yuta?” A cute girl comes up to Yuta, and he smiles as he greets her, she pulls Yuta aside, as he chats with her just out of earshot, her hand grazing his shoulder. 

And your stomach turns, a twinge in your heart as you watch the two — you don’t remember Yuta mentioning her, but then again, Yuta rarely talked about himself, even when you asked. It was like pulling teeth — and now here he was. Now, he was smiling at a girl you knew nothing about. 

What was this feeling? You shifted from foot to foot, restlessness settling over your body as you purse your lips as if to prevent unnecessary words from spilling from your lips. Why did you feel so...helpless? Your arms crossed over your chest as if that would hold you together — keep your heart from falling back into the pieces you had meticulously put back together. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You watched them talk, as the girl finally seemingly said her goodbye and flashed a small smile your way before disappearing down the hallway. 

“Sorry,” Yuta walks back over, a smile on his lips, but you knew that smile wasn’t for you. Not like before, “yeah let’s grab dinner,” 

And you weren’t the same either—

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you force your lips to curl, as you walk past him, “let’s go,” 

—because you were jealous.

~~~

“Yuta, have you thought about dating?'' Your question comes seemingly out of nowhere one night, right after midterms, and Yuta has to stop himself from spitting out the sip of his tea he had taken, forcing himself to swallow. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyebrow raising, “you good?” 

“Y-yeah sorry,” he clears his throat, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed red from that, “why do you ask?” 

“I was just curious because we’ve talked a lot about my dating life, but nothing about yours,” it was late, or rather early—nearly 3 AM on a Saturday night, the two of you were half asleep on the couch, stuck in a stubborn battle of not wanting to sleep quite yet, “you don’t talk a lot about yourself,” 

“There’s not much to say,” he shrugs, and your raised brow tells him you’re not satisfied with his reply, he relents with a sigh, “there was a girl I liked when I was a kid — Rika, we met when I was in the hospital,” and your lips twist into a frown, “I was sick a lot when I was little, and that’s when I met Rika. She lived with her grandparents — her parents both had passed when she was even younger. We were inseparable—“ he gives a soft chuckle, “but then she…” his voice wavers. 

“You don’t have to—“ and he’s shaking his head. 

“We were playing and she went into the street to cross when a car sped by—“ and he shakes his head, “she didn’t make it,” your fingers knit together, before one of your hands finds his.

“You didn’t have to share that if you weren’t ready,” and he’s offering a weak smile, squeezing your hand. 

“I wanted to,” he sighs, as he rubs at his eye, “there’s not much I wouldn’t tell you,” and you supposed that was the difference between him and Suguru — communication that wasn’t limited, a conversation that wasn’t one sided, and honesty — without a price. 

“So there’s been no one else since Rika?” you tilt your head, and you swear you see a twinge of red across his cheeks, dusting his features even in the dim light. 

“Why are you asking?” he says slowly, it feels as if he’s caught you, as your gaze snaps away, a pout on your lips, as you press your knuckles to your lips — and it’s as if he got a hold of your thoughts, “is it because of Kirara earlier?” 

“Oh, that’s her name?” Yuta has to bite back a small smile at your narrowed eyes, unable to meet his gaze, “how do you—” 

“She’s a friend from high school — and she’s dating another old friend from high school,” he adds, and your eyes snap to his, “I don’t like her like that anyway — she’s just a good friend, and likes to give me unsolicited advice on my fashion sense,” 

Your lips curl, “Well you are a little basic in your—” and he cuts you off with a look, and you’re shifting your body to face him fully, “so if it’s not Kirara, you don’t have anyone in mind? Not even a crush?” 

Your question feels like an answer in and of itself — along with the look you’re giving him — the same one he had always given you, when you weren’t looking — longing. But what if he was wrong? What if he was projecting? But he could spend his whole time wondering, and never knowing — or he could take the leap. 

He chews on his bottom lip, and he steels himself, his gaze turning back to you, “and if I said there was?” 

Were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? Suguru still lingered in the back of your mind collecting cobwebs, on the tip of your tongue like a curse unspoken — and yet your forefront was filled with nothing but Yuta — his kindness, his honesty, his straightforward nature — all things you hadn’t gotten from Suguru when it mattered, when it counted. And it would be easy — there would be no complications — other than the complications that always came with relationships and emotions. 

But that was far simpler than what you and Suguru had to deal with. 

“Then I’d ask you,” your fingers reaching across a line that was meant to be crossed, but one that perhaps you shouldn’t anyway, “what are you waiting for?” and your hand finds his — his hand smaller than the one you’re used to, but warmer and softer. 

“I don’t want to rush—” and you’re shaking your head, as your squeeze his hand, fingers laced together, as your thumb runs over his palm. 

“We don’t have to,” you murmur, your gaze finding his, and he’s leaning closer to you, as if with a magnetic pull — and you find yourself attracted and not repelled to his pull, “we can take our time, can’t we?” 

And his lips curl into a small smile, his dark eyes nearly consumed by the shadows underneath them, but somehow as soft as they always were — “Is this a dream?” he murmurs, whisper like, as if his words would ripple across the surface of reality until it disappeared within its depths, “I wanted to tell you for so long — but I didn’t know it if was too soon or if—” 

“I know,” it had been three months, three months since you had your heart broken, but you were tired of wallowing, of trying to put your heart back together by yourself — you may have filled in the cracks, but maybe you needed someone to cement the parts back into one — and maybe Yuta was the one, “and maybe it is, but I want to try,” you admit, “is that wrong?” 

And how could he say it was — when it was all he wanted?” 

“No,” his fingertips brush against your cheek, “maybe it’s just right.” 

~~~

He shifted in his sleep, a warm body pressed against him, his arms slinking around your own, your face buried in his neck in the best way he could imagine. Your fingers raked through his jet black locks, you pressed a sweet kiss to his neck, and a soft groan left his lips. 

“Baby, finally awake?” your lips press a smile against his skin, your finger drawing a circle against his chest, “we have to get up soon, we’ll be late,” you murmur, “and I know how you feel about being late,” your nose brushes against his jumping pulse, “Sugu?” 

Suguru groans softly, burying his face in your hair, “Five more minutes,” and you chuckle against him, his favorite sound that graces his ears, his eyes fluttering shut again, as he surrounds himself in your scent — the notes of lavender and rosemary from your shampoo, “just want to spend a few more minutes with you, sweetheart — I need you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You hum, rubbing his head softly, fingers curling around one of the locks of his hair, “I don’t recall you gracing me with five minutes when I was late on that first day,” 

He groans, shifting only to bury himself in your chest, pressing soft kisses to the valley between your breasts, nose pressed against the hollow of your throat, the cold metal of the dragon pendant against his cheek, “I wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he’s leaning back only to press a sweet kiss to your lips, again and again — it always felt so right being with you. 

“But you’re not my boyfriend now,” and he pauses, before glancing up at you, your eyes glassy with tears, “remember?” your fingers ghosted over his cheek. 

RING. RING. RING. 

His eyes don’t bother to open as he reaches for his phone, turning off the ringer, before his hand reaches for you, only to find an empty space beside him. He flutters his eyes open, glancing over, and finds your absence beside him. 

It had been months, but you still haunted him—and he would spend the rest of his life running from the ghost of what could have been—and pretending it doesn’t hurt. 

He turns on his side to look away from your side of the bed — even though it still did.

~~~

You stared at the outfits laid out on the bed — practically your entire closet threw up your complete wardrobe, and even so, you couldn’t find a single thing you wanted to wear. Or rather— 

You tossed another blouse onto the pile— you couldn’t find a single thing that didn’t remind you of Suguru. One of these he had said brought out your eyes, the other he had picked out for you, and the other he had taken you out on your one month anniversary for a surprise date. 

There were too many memories — and too many that you didn’t care to relive. Especially today, as your phone goes off — I’ll be on my way over soon. Are you almost ready? 

Fuck. Yuta was on his way almost and you hadn’t even finished picking an outfit. 

By almost ready, do you mean not ready at all? You bite your lip, I know it’s silly but I can’t decide what to wear. 

You dig two outfits out of the bottom of the pile — and stare at them — you didn’t like to wear new outfits on a first date, but maybe this would be a fresh start for you. One where you could leave behind some of the memories tied around your ankles like anchors, dragging you down the depths of waters you didn’t want to explore any longer. 

Your phone goes off again — You’d look amazing in anything — I’ll be there soon. 

Your lips curl at the sight of his text — you choose a dress, tugging your shirt over your head and your shorts down, before pulling the dress down. And you adjust your hair in the mirror, before looking closely at yourself — a glint catching your eyes. 

Your fingers ghost over the dragon pendant — you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take it off. But maybe it was time — and your hands reach around unclasping the chain before placing it in the palm of your hand. 

Your fingertip traces over the rainbow colored gems — and he wondered if he even still thought of you like you thought of him. It was so easy for him to leave — so did he put you out of his mind while he was at it? You held the necklace over the trash bin next to your vanity — your fingers squeezing at the chain and pendant, as it dug into your skin — should you toss it away like he had with you? 

No —you pulled your hand back — no, you couldn’t. You placed the necklace in the box it came in, tucking it away behind some things. 

You heard your phone go off again, as you spared one last glance at the vanity, where the box was hidden away— 

Because it still meant something to you. Even if it didn’t to him. 

~~~

“You complain about my movies, but the one you chose was much worse,” you say as you unlock your apartment, “that plot line made little to no sense,” 

“If you suspend your disbelief—“ 

You stop, your key hanging from your door, as you stare at him, “I can believe that supernatural powers exist in that universe, but why would the universe entrust these powers to the stupidest people alive?” He snorts, as you continue unlocking the door, as you spare a glance at Yuta who is still fidgeting near your doorway, “you gonna come in?” 

“I-well, I thought since this our first date, maybe I shouldn’t since you wouldn’t do that one a first date,” and you blink, your lips curling, as you watch him trip over his words, cheeks tinged pink, “not that anything would happen if I did come in—but—“ 

You step closer, silencing his words, seemingly stuck in his throat, “You really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” and your fingers brush his, slowly intertwining with his as you bridge the gap, “I really appreciate it,” 

He bites his lip, eyes sliding sideways, as he does, before he’s tilting his head again, “I just don’t want you rush into anything, and I don’t want us to still feel like—” 

“Just friends I know,” you smile, “well then why don’t we leave it here for tonight, but call me when you get home?” He slowly nods, but he still isn’t leaving, “Yuta?” 

And he steps a little closer, your breath catches, stuck in your lungs, as your chest squeezes when his fingers find your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” And your answer comes before you know it as you nod wordlessly. 

His lips curl into a smile, as he leans closer and your noses bump, a small chuckle escaping your lips before his lips find yours. 

It’s chaste, at first, until his lips find yours in a firmer kiss. He tastes faintly of the salt and butter of the popcorn he just had, and you can feel him smile against your lips, before you both part. 

Your lips curl, “Well that is definitely something I never do with a friend,” 

“You sure?” He murmurs and you hum, as your foreheads press against the other’s, as your fingers intertwine and you tug him inside your apartment. 

“Maybe just the ones I really like.” 

~~~

“You look happy,” Maki notes, as Yuta shows up early to work on a project for student government — it had been a few days since their first date, and Yuta had just gotten a text from you asking if he was coming over tonight. His lips quirked upwards as he told you he’d be there after he finished his work, as his eyes flitted up to find Maki’s, “don’t tell me you actually got the balls to ask her—“ and his eyes won’t quite meet her own, a smile on his lips, “fuck, don’t tell me—” 

“We had our third date last night—” and he earns himself a hard punch to his shoulder, as he jolts, staring at Maki, “ow! Why—” 

“Three dates and you tell me now?” and Yuta’s rubbing his shoulder, as he frowns, “what’s with the face? My punch didn’t hurt that bad,” she takes a seat, and leans back in her chair, as she rifles through the paperwork, 

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if I should be going around telling people — it’s new—” 

“Wouldn’t you be happy to talk about your relationship?” And he’s hesitating, and Maki’s chair legs clack against the floor as she leans forward again, “what are you so scared of still?” 

What was it that he was scared of? That it wouldn’t work out? That he’d lose you before he had even truly had you? That he’d hurt you? And it was true, he was scared of all of those things, but it wasn’t those things holding him back— 

“I saw the way she talked about her ex, the smile she had when she would come off talking about him,” he leans against his hand, elbow propped up on the table, “she always had this smile on her face — just this look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have with me—“ 

“A look doesn’t make or break a relationship, Okkotsu,” Maki says with a sigh, “and she was already in that relationship for who knows how long at that point?”

“I know, but—“ 

“I can’t tell you how to run your relationship but you have to decide whether you’re in this or not — because if you keep comparing yourself, you’ll never be happy,” and Yuta nods, before glancing at her, “what?” 

“How do you know so much about this?” Maki crosses her arms, a slight blush on her cheeks. 

“You’re not the only one with a social life—“ but she cuts him off before he can ask more questions, “but this is about you, not me,” she leans forward, “you need to focus on your relationship now, not her old one,” 

And he nods — he needed to trust you, otherwise this would never work with his head stuck in the past or looking into the future. Otherwise, this insecurity would seep like poison into his present — and he would lose you anyway. 

“You’re right, thanks Maki,” and his phone goes off again, another text from you — I miss you — come soon. 

Maybe he just needed to trust you — and himself. But even so, as he typed his reply to you — I’ll pick up dinner on the way. I’ll be back soon. Promise — but why was it so difficult? 

~~~ 

“Ah, Yu,” you murmured against his lips before swallowing your words completely, you were even prettier breathless than he had imagined. Well, more like than he had dreamt. He had resisted the urge to fantasize about you, thinking it would be disrespectful, crossing a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed. But that didn’t mean he could control his subconscious when he would slip into the embrace of sleep. 

He’d see you beside him on the couch, and you’d lean over and simply find his lips as if you’d done it a million times before. And he’d melt into your touch with such practiced ease, his fingers skimming over your sides, and he was desperate for more, more, more. He would only slide his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the fabric of your panties before he’d wake in sweat soaked sheets and his cock straining against his boxers. 

This was so much better. 

It had started on the couch just like his dream, the two of you lying together, cuddling on the couch as the two of you half watched a movie. 

“Are you sleepy?” He asked softly, tucking a strand behind your ear, and you shake your head, as you shift closer to him, half of your body pressed against him. He did his best not to shift much, as you move even closer to him, nearly lying on top of him, “what—“ 

His breath catches as you lean closer, “can I—“ and he’s nodded without a second thought, as your lips found his, and his fingers found your hips. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips before slipping inside, and he eagerly steals your breath from your very lungs. And you’re moving, now lying squarely on top of him, your hips pressed against his, as his already hard cock throbs against your cunt. 

He bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you already are, soaking through your shorts and drenching  his sweatpants, “Fuck,” he murmurs, as your lips both part for a breath, as he cups your chin, only to press hot kisses to your burning skin, “baby, you taste so good,” 

And that’s where he found himself now. 

Your tiny gasps and murmurs of his name, as his lips explored what skin he could reach, while his hands slid up and down your body, now warm palms resting above your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. 

“Yuta, please,” the whine in your throat makes the heat grow thicker been you two, the movie fading into but white noise, as he cards his fingers through your hair, “don’t tease me,” 

And he’s swallowing thickly, his dick twitching at the thought of taking this further — the two of you had done everything but this step, your hands had grazed under the other’s clothes, grinded against each other as you made out, but one of you would end up stopping it for one reason or another. It was a game of chicken, one or the other seemingly daring the other to take that step — but neither of you had. 

But now — as his thumb dragged over your puffy, kiss ruined lips, “Do you want to?” he asks an unspoken question, his resistance weakening to your touches, your fingers ghosting up his chest before one of your hands finds his cheek. 

“I do,” you answer, but bite your lip, “I’m just…a little nervous,” and his lips press a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“We can always wait — I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, baby,” he’s featherlight in his touches now, “it’s up to you,” and it was — he would wait for you, as long as you wanted him. 

You smile at him, finding his lips in another kiss — he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this soft, or feel this good — he could taste the sweetness of ice cream you had ate earlier on your lips, but you were so much better than any dessert. 

Your fingers rake gently through his hair, “Let’s move to the bedroom?” 

~~~

You wanted Yuta — you did. You had for the weeks the two of you had dated. It had been almost two months, and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. There wasn’t a reason to rush, but there wasn’t a reason not to. The line had been edged to the brink of insanity — for the both of you. There was always seemingly a reason to stop — an early class, a late night, stomach upset — and it always felt like timing was just off. But it wasn’t always just the timing. 

It was also you. 

Every time you and Yuta got close, each time you felt even an ounce of pleasure, the guilt of Suguru would claw up your throat, again and again. And you were sure Yuta had noticed. But even if he had, you didn’t know a way to explain without making him think you were still in love with Suguru — which you weren’t. 

You didn’t think you were. The guilt lingered, like blood dried from a still open wound, scabbed over but not healed, easily reopened with even a scratch or a step. And it felt like with each step you took away from Suguru, you bled more and more — but you didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t stem the bleeding at its source, not when the person you had cut it open didn’t even give you a chance to speak. 

And you couldn’t talk to Yuta about it — not when you still hadn’t explained who Suguru is — and what exactly he does for work. Or much of anything else and you didn’t even know how to begin that conversation or why it would be necessary. Does he need to know all of that when you would be graduating soon enough and Suguru would be only a distant memory. 

But you hoped Yuta wouldn’t be. 

Your fingers laced with his as you led him to your bedroom — as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. You gently guide him onto your bed and have him sit while you stand, your fingers cupping his face, as his breath hitches at your proximity. His lips parted ever so slightly, as a pretty pink settled over his cheeks. 

“Baby, are you sure?” His lips are half twisting in a frown, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I don’t want—“ 

And your lips find his in a soft kiss, pressing yourself between his legs, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, “I want you, Yuta,” you murmur, you were tired of letting the past dictate your present — you wanted to move forward, “don’t you want me too?” And your lips ghost over his jaw up to his ear, as you whisper in it, while leaving kisses that make his body shiver, wondering if you’ve turned his blood to ice or made it turn to steam with how his skin burned. 

“You’re not playing fair” he mumbles, as he buries your face in the crook of your neck, and you laugh, your fingers skimming the back of his neck. 

“I’m here to win, we never said anything about fair,” you twirl the black locks resting against his neck, your lips press another kiss to his cheekbone, “you still haven’t answered my question—“

 “Of course I want you,” he looks up at you, his need like a spark catching fire on your body, “I always have,”

“Well I’m right here,” you murmur, you tilt his chin up, fingers threaded in his black locks, “what are you going to do about it?” 

~~~

Yuta was going to lose his mind — but it’s just as well, you already had his heart. 

At your words, he’s tugging you even closer as he moves back on the bed, gaze hot as he watches you move, sitting on his lap — knees on either side of his waist. Fuck, you felt so good against him, plush thighs pressing into his hands already sliding down your lower back and grazing your ass to press you impossibly closer. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, and his blood flees his cheeks to his cock, twitching against your clothed cunt, and you smirk, a giggle escaping your lips, “you like that, huh?” you breath against his ear, “my good boy,” 

And in an instant, you’re pinned under him, and you’re blinking up at him, smile exchanged for parted lips, as his hands slide up your sides, and he’s leaning down to kiss you. His mouth burns against yours, tongue teasing the seam of your lips, before they part for him. 

“Now who’s being good for who?” he murmurs, as he pulls back with your teeth catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, grinding against you, the length of his cock grinding against your clothed slit, “you won't let me have a moment, can you?” He murmurs, a red flush on his cheeks that makes you grin. 

“Not as long as you’re with me, Yu,” and god, that nickname for him makes his head spin— it’s already so much — the picture of you spread so prettily for him, your thighs parted under him, shirt riding up, just asking for him to slide underneath, and your bodies pressed together in all of the right places, as if neither of you could get close enough. 

And apparently you couldn’t, as you guide his hands to the hem of your shirt, and you’re helping him pull it over your head before tossing it onto the floor. And he sees nothing underneath, your nipples pebbled and hard under his gaze, so pretty for him. 

When his fingers twitch, you chuckle, “touch me,” and your words melt away his reservations, as his hands find your breasts, warm palms squeezing and teasing the soft flesh. He leans down and presses a kiss to one of your pert nipples, his tongue flicking the pert bud, drawing a small gasp from your lips, a pretty noise he wants to make fall from your lips again and again. Your head falls back into your pillow, as he switches sides, teasing the one with his lips, while he rolls the other between his index and thumb. 

“Fuck, Yuta,” he smiles against you, as his lips begin to kiss down your body, starting with the valley of your breasts before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. And his eyes are flicking up to meet yours to ask silently, and your nod is all it takes for his fingers to dip in and tug the thin fabric down your legs, fingers dragging along the dips and curves of your legs as he does. He bends down to steal kisses to your swell of your hips and the crown of your knee. 

“S’pretty,” he’s mumbling, as his eyes find the wet patch on your underwear, fabric messy and soaked through as it cling helplessly to your hard clit, “how are you this pretty, baby?” 

“All for you, sweet boy,” you’re murmuring, as you hiss when he’s teasing your clit through your panties, “Yu, fuck—“ he could cum just listening to you — he doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s inside you—

But one step at a time. 

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to it, before he’s slipping two fingers into the elastic to tug it down, with a nod from you. He’s pressing kisses and nips to your inner thigh, relishing in the marks he leaves on you — ones that he and you would only see. And finally you’ve kicked your underwear off, fully bare for him. 

“How do you smell so sweet?” he’s whispering, as his eyes drag over your exposed folds, and a whimper escapes your lips, he can’t wait to make you moan. And he’s bending down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt, a thick stripe that has you gasping, fingers winding their way into his black locks, nails digging deliciously into his scalp. 

And you taste even better than he imagined — so good that he's already lapping at your folds, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit — and he hears the wrinkle of the sheets as your toes curl into them. He’s rutting into your mattress, ready to cum in his boxers at how good your pussy feels — dick nearly bursting at the thought of having your cunt around him. 

“Fuck, baby,” you’re swearing under your breath, as your body tenses under his tongue, he begins to slurp at your juices. His hands find their way under the soft flesh of your thighs to tug you flush to his lips, “Yu, so good,” and all he can hear are the lewd sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy, working your walls open, pretty walls fluttering around him, “feel so good, ngh, ah—” your eyes find his, and it’s enough for him to blow his load then and there — eyes blown out with lust as they meet his own, your lips parted in lovely pants and moans. 

And he knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls shudder, and he’s burying himself in your cunt, fucking you open with his tongue while he rubs your clit in quick circles. 

“Yu, I’m cum—“ and you cut yourself off with a moan, back arching as you cum hard, his name on your lips, and he’s eating you out through your orgasm, greedily drinking every bit of release you give him. And it’s only when it’s too much, your body slightly shaking, as you gently pull at his hair, that he eases off. 

You watch him with half lidded eyes as he pulls away, still between your thighs — lips and chin glossy and drenched in your release. He licks his lips and chin clean, watching you come down from your high, fuck, the way your walls clench around nothing makes him want to bury his face back in your folds. 

“So good, Yu, s’good for me,” you’re panting, sweat slicked against your skin, as you’re gently tugging at him, and he obliges, keening at the praise as he slips up your body until your lips find his. You moan, tasting yourself on his lips, a sloppy, messy kiss that leaves him breathless. 

And you’re flipping you both over, his eyes dilating at the sight of you, eyes raking over his body, eager hands thumbing at the hem of his shirt. 

Your lips in a smirk that leaves his dick throbbing, “my turn, Yu, let me make you feel good,”your hands make quick work of his shirt, tugging it up and over, tossing it in the growing pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom. 

Your lips press sweet kisses all over his chest, fingers teasing his chest, but you have bigger intentions in mind, as your fingers quickly find their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. And with a nod given, you’re deftly tugging it down with a raise of his hips to pull the fabric off and kicked away, leaving him only in his boxers. 

You bite your lip when you see the large wet patch from his pre, your fingers teasing his slit through the fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips. He swallows, watching your pretty lips bend down to press a kiss to his cock through the fabric. And it’s enough for him to lose his mind completely, “please,” he whimpers, and you smile down at him, dragging your thumb down his lips. 

“Please what?” you ask innocently, for someone whose fingers were grazing his erection the way they were, he swallows as he watches your finger trace up and down his clothes cock, “what do you want me to use? My hand? My mouth?” 

And he’s shaking his head, “Anything, just please I need—“ and your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, snapping it against his skin, a yelp escaping his lips that makes you giggle, “that’s not nice—“ and he’s gasping when your lips press a hot kiss to his hip, your eyes lidded with desire. 

“Who said I was nice?” 

~~~

You were going to be the death of him, and with the way your fingers tug down his boxers — finally freeing his cock, slapping against his stomach as it does — it would be a sweet death. 

“Didn’t know your cock was so pretty like the rest of you, Yu,” and it was, so long and thick, pearly precum dripping down his flushed length, veins that ran up and down the length that you were far too eager to trace, “can’t wait to taste you,” you’re murmuring, as your tongue flicks down against his slit. 

“B-baby, please,” his hand is covering his face, but you reach up to pry it away, seeing the lovely red that settled over his cheeks, lips parted in need as he painted, “please—“ 

And your fingers wrap around his dick, thumbing the slit and working the precum up and down his length. And he’s moaning your name on his lips again and again, as you kiss his tip sliding your fingers down to his base and squeezing. And when your lips part for him, sliding his length in your mouth, his head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he can’t help but roll his hips into your mouth. And when his tip brushes the back of your throat, it’s enough for him to cum right then and there, but he doesn’t want to — not yet, not until he’s inside you. 

He’s easing you off, watching strings of pre and your spit connect you to his aching cock, as you look up at him, and he’s pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting his own pre on your lips. 

“I need you,” he’s murmuring, fingers finding your hips, “baby, please,” 

You smile, parting from him, “how do you need me?” And he’s swallowing, cock twitching, and he knows he’s one stroke too fast from bursting — so he needs control. 

“Lie on the bed, baby,” and you do, easing from between his legs, and onto your back, head against the plush pillows. He parts your legs for you, warm palms squeezing your flesh teasingly, drawing a whine from you, he presses your thighs up, letting them hook around his back, as his skin meets yours. And god, you’re perfect, “how did I get so lucky? You’re so perfect, so pretty,” and he’s slotting himself between your thighs, fingers lining up his cock with your dripping slit, his curiosity getting the better of him as he drags the head up your messy folds still slick with your release, and groans as he watches your walls flutter around nothing, “so good for me, are you ready, baby?” 

You’re nodding, “please Yu, I need—” and his tip is sliding into you, his length stretching your walls far too well, and it’s enough for him to cum right there — as your cunt adjusts to his size, dragging against you as he pushes past your entrance. It’s enough for him to cum right there, but he wants it to be good for you both — wants you to hear you praise him again, wants to hear you say his name again and again until you fall apart on his cock. 

And finally he’s bottoming out, a moan from both of your lips, your walls fluttered around his length, your head lolls back a moment, before your eyes flutter open and meet his, “S’good, Yu, please, move,” and he’s cupping your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, before he begins to fuck you slowly. 

The echoes of your skin meeting his rings in hie ears, needy walls pulling you back in even as he tried to pull out, sinking deeper and deeper each time he fucked you. 

He’s burning, ready to melt at your very touch, putty in your hands to bend and shape at your will, even as you swallow him whole, he’s ready for you to consume every inch of him with your being. 

“Feels s’good, Yuta,” you’re moaning, legs around his hips pulling him impossibly closer, “such a good boy,” and his cock twitches, your mixed releases forming a ring around the base of his length, “s’good, need more,” 

And he’s groaning, as your wet squelches fill the silence between both of your moans and pants — and you’re close, as he gives a particularly deep thrust that finds the spot that has you seeing stars. Your head falls back, lips parted in his name, “Yu, I’m close — ngh, please—“ and he’s smiling, his cheeks surely flushed blood red, panting, as he reaches between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he’s murmuring, and you’re nodding, as you fall apart for him, toes curling as you cum hard around him, making him groan your name as he spills his warm seed inside you, pumping slowly as he does. His body slows as you both come down from your highs, and he slowly rolls off of you, running fingers through your hair and pressing sweet kisses, “are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes soft with affection, but laced with concern. 

You smile, “I’m more than okay,” you press your face into his chest, and he’s shivering at your touch, pulling you even closer, “I’m with you,” and his fingers run up and down your cheek, before leaning down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. 

That’s right, he smiles as he kisses your forehead — he was with you. And the past didn’t matter — when he was in your present. 

“I’ll always be with you,” he mutters against your lips. 

And hopefully in your future. 

~~~

“What are you doing, I thought you were almost done,” Yuta mumbles against the soft skin of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that did nothing but sap the need for productivity from your very veins — leaving only behind thoughts of his touch behind, “baby,”

“Yu, I promise I’m almost done, I just have to send this email about my thesis and you’ll have my undivided attention,” you both had been stuck in the end of the semester rush, trying to find time for each other — leaving you stressed out and Yuta a little needy. That’s what this night was supposed to be for — a chance to reconnect, and yet here you were working. But you had to send this thesis out or you knew Yaga would have your head for delaying your work on your outline for so long — something you would be spending next semester fleshing out into a full thesis you’d be presenting. 

He nods, but continues to pepper you with kisses, your skin nearly molten under his touch as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you further into his lap instead of beside him on the couch, “After all the work I did to snag Professor Yaga as my thesis advisor, I cannot let the department head down with my draft,” 

He hums, vibrations making you nearly shiver, “I know, I’m really proud of you. I know you’re going to have something really special by the end of the year,” and you shake your head. 

“I just hope I make it past the defense — it’s the most nerve wracking part,” you sigh, “a room of my peers and professors staring me down while I discuss the work I’ve done,” you proof read the email for the millionth time — scanning for any errors and make sure the attachment is the correct attachment — and finally click send, and sigh before relaxing into his arms. 

“Can I come to your defense?” Yuta asks, perking up, and you smile, leaning back against him. 

“Are you sure you’d want to come? It’s going to be just me rambling about my thesis and answering a bunch of questions,” you kiss his jaw softly, nosing the small hickey you left blooming on his pale skin last night, “might not be the most exciting thing,” 

“I want to support you, as long as you want me there,” and you can’t help but wonder — would Suguru show up to your defense? The thought makes your stomach churn at the thought of them watching you present, eyes flitting from one to the other. You had doubts he would show himself there — but the only catch was if Yaga would twist his arm. And then what? You had nearly blown your relationship wide open once before when you had ran into Suguru in front of Yuta—

You couldn’t risk it again. 

“Let me think about it, ok?” You nuzzle your nose against his cheek, as he frowns, “I just think if I have you there, I might get too nervous—“ 

He shakes his head, “Whatever makes you comfortable, either way, we’re going to celebrate right after,” and you tilt your head. 

“What if I don’t pass?” And he shakes his head. 

“If hell freezes over, I think we’ll have bigger problems,” and you snort, “but on the very off chance you don’t, you still accomplished something incredible—“ and your lips find his, and he melts into your kiss after a moment. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you,” and he curls his lips into a sweet smile. 

“I’m the lucky one,” and his lips press against yours this time, meeting yours again and again, until you’re placing your laptop aside, and turning to sit in his lap, “baby,” heat rolls off his body in waves, as your fingers trace down his chest. 

“I heard someone wanted my undivided attention tonight,” you smile, before taking your phone and placing it on ‘do not disturb,’ “well now what are you going to do with it?” 

He smiles, “Don’t know if we’ll have enough time for everything, but,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “we can try,” and the two of you are making your way to the bedroom soon enough, unaware that you had gotten an important email that night—

From: Suguru Geto 

Subject Line: Regarding Your Thesis Advisor

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re adjusting your hair as you sprint your way to Professor Yaga’s office. This is what you get for staying up far too late with your far too tempting boyfriend. And now you woke up thirty minutes before the meeting, with barely enough time to make it on time, much less breath. Yuta gave you a kiss goodbye, but that’s all he had time for — before you were out the door. 

But you finally reached Yaga’s door, catching your breath when you took a second to regain your composure before knocking. You blinked — weird, his door was usually open. And the door opens, but it isn’t Yaga—

It’s Suguru? 

It’s Suguru. 

You stare at him, wondering if this is another twisted nightmare you had ensnared yourself in, but no — it isn’t. Because even your subconscious couldn’t make a scenario this twisted. His lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it. 

“If you’re meeting with Professor Yaga, I can come back at a different time, Professor,” the title slips from your lips without barely a thought, but it carries far too much weight. A flicker of emotion catches on the corner of his lips and in the glint of his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

“You’re on time, but I still you did not have the time to check your email before this meeting,” he tilts his head, as you blink slowly, “please come in and have a seat,” 

And you do, taking a seat across from him as he sits on the other side of the desk, you shift in your seat, as you take him in for the first time in months — his hair was still long, black tresses brushing against his shoulders, hair half up in a neat bun near the crown of his head; his eyes tucked behind his glasses for once, but you could see the burgeoning beginnings of dark bags under his eyes; and his clothes were meticulous as always — and you spot the tie pin he has — it’s the one you had gifted him near the beginning of your relationship — a joke that you had made about pinning him down in class turned into a gift. 

And that makes your neck feel all the more bare. 

“Is Professor Yaga ok?” and Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his hair. 

“He’s fine, he is sick at the moment — and receiving treatment,” you sigh in slight relief, “so he’s decided to take the rest of this semester off, as well as next semester,” and you sigh, leaning back as you cover your lips with your hand. 

“Is he going to be—” 

“He has a good prognosis, and his son’s with him, looking after him, so it should be fine,” he says softly, and his lips curl in a small smile, as he flips through the papers on Yaga’s desk. 

“What’s with the smile?” and he shakes his head, as he rifles through the stacks of paperwork, until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for. 

“Nothing, just noticing that your habit of worrying about others before yourself hasn’t changed,” and you glare slightly at him, pursing your lips, as he slides a stapled stack of papers to you. 

“And what’s this—” 

“Your thesis proposal,” and you take it, flipping through and grimacing at the red pen, “and my thoughts on it,” you scoff, as you see the familiar picture of his scribbles and notes in the margins of your work. 

“It looks like old habits die hard for the both of us,” as you finish flipping through, but your brow knits together as the pieces of news start to fit together like a puzzle — with a very mortifying picture, and your eyes meet his, slowly — the news going as well over as a lead balloon, and crashing down on your head like one, “so does this mean—” 

His lips curl in a small smile, “I’ll be taking over as your thesis advisor — for the rest of the year.” 

✧ a/n: it was supposed to be the last part and now! we have. one more part since i decided i wanted to flesh out the final arc a little more! one more part of this and it will be all done...:)

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot , @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri i , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Last Call

Calling the LADS Men to say goodbye because you weren't going to be making it home to them. A/N: MC isn't reincarnating this time sorry. Artist @/am_soul_art on insta [Requested by: nocturnaoasis]

It was supposed to be a quick mission. The intentions were good and the plan was perfect. At least thats what the higher ups thought at the Hunter's Association. The plan was to take back Hat Island, the small island right off the coast of linkon overrun with wanderers. The Hunter's Association believed that their strength in not only numbers, but also Evols and skills had improved enough to take back the small island.

They were wrong. So very wrong.

It was a suicide mission from the start; the wanderers were too smart there was never a chance. You panted as you ran from the onslaught of wanderers that had evolved over time inhabiting this island. You watched as comrade after comrade was slaughtered right in front of you. The number of Hunters was decresing quickly and there was no help coming. You held your side for dear life as blood gushed from your wound. You accepted your fate right then and there. You weren't making it back to Linkon.

You managed to find a small cave on the side of a mountain where you could make one last call.

Zayne

The phone seems to ring forever you were afraid you weren't going to hear his voice in your last moments. Just as you thought it would go to voicemail he picked up.

Zayne: Hello MC: Zayne.... Zayne: Yes I'm here

You couldn't help the grin that overtook your face.

MC: Remember our trip to find 'old popsicles'? Zayne: Of course I do MC: Remember when you swept me away from my friends to go read in a secluded park? Zayne: Yes ... where is this coming from?

You took a deep breath before coughing and grunting form the pain.

MC: I just want you to always think of our good memories ... I don't think we'll be making anymore after today Zayne: What are you saying? MC: They're gone ... they're all gone ... and I don't have much time left.

You finally broke down and sobbed into the phone as reality truly set in.

Zayne: Wh- MC: Promise me you'll move on ... I want you to find something or someone to bring the same vivacity that I brought you ... don't shut yourself off from the world ... I want you to be happy ... remember me in a good light because just know I died doing what I love Zayne: ....dont leave me behind MC: I love you Dr. Zayne......

Zayne didn't hang up he stayed on the line until he could no longer hear your stuttering breaths. He couldn't keep that promise of moving on. He threw himself into his work to keep his mind busy. He was afraid if he slowed down for one second he'd never be able to recover.

Rafayel

He picked up on the first ring as if he'd been waiting by the phone just for your call.

Rafayel: Hey Cutie!

He sounded so happy at the fact that you called it was already killing you that you'd be breaking his heart with this call.

MC: You know you create the most beautiful art Rafayel: You're making me blush stop it MC: I'm going to be painting pretty sunsets and sunrises for you Raf Rafayel: huh?

You swallowed hard trying to keep your voice from wavering.

MC: The next time you're on the beach and you see a beautiful sunset or sunrise ... that's me ... painting the sky just for you Rafayel: No no no you're-

His words became panicked as you quickly cut him off

MC: I wish I would have hugged you tighter before I left ... I'm not making it back to Linkon ... I'm sorry Rafayel: I can come to you just tell me where you are

Tears streamed down your face as your voice broke at the sound of him falling apart on the other end

MC: Im running on borrowed time right now Rafayel I just wanted to tell you that I love you ... so much Rafayel: I love you too

Your head was already swimming you didn't even realize you muttered.

MC: Good ... good.......

Rafayel never missed a single sunrise or sunset after that. Thomas would always find him sitting on the beach with red eyes and a camera to capture the sky that you painted for him.

Xavier

He picked up on the third ring w/ a groggy voice; he'd been asleep.

Xavier: My little star

His voice brought you a kind of comfort that no words could describe.

MC: You made a good call getting sick this week you know that?

You couldn't help but giggle at the situation.

Xavier: What are you going on about? MC: Remember how pretty the stars were that night we danced in the forest? Xavier: Yea they were almost as beautiful as you

He always knew how to make you feel like the prettiest girl to ever exist.

MC: Well next time you gaze at the stars the one star that seems to twinkle and dance just for you ... that'll be me

A brief moment of silence....

Xavier: You're not saying what I think you're saying

You could hear rustling on the other end knowing he just sat up.

MC: I'm sorry Xav ... I'm so sorry ... I promised I would make it back to you, but thats a promise I can't keep anymore ... I'm losing blood fast I can already feel myself losing consciousness Xavier: Hang on I'll be right there

And there it was the choked sob that finally slipped out of you as you responded.

MC: It's too late Xav ... do you love me?

He was quiet for a moment before you heard his low raspy voice respond.

Xavier: Yes. Of course I love you with everything that I am

Those words brought one last smile to your face and you finally let your eyes drift closed.

MC: thats all I wanted to hear ... I love you Xavier..........

Xavier was never the same after that. He spent his days training to get stronger to the point where his hands were bloody. No one could get through to him not even Jeremiah. At night he swore he could hear your voice as he gazed at the stars.

Sylus

Sylus: Hi sweetie MC: I love you!

You heard his breath hitch and then silence. You had rendered Sylus speechless with the three words he always wanted to hear.

Sylus: Why so sudden? MC: I never got the chance to say it to you, but I couldn't go without letting you know Sylus: where-

You quickly cut him off because there wasn't much time left. You could quite literally feel your life slipping through your fingers.

MC: this mission was doomed from the start ... I'm not making it home to you tonight ... I'm sorry ... there’s no pain though so I must be dying Sylus: Stay right where you are I’ll come find you MC: Don't .... it's no use ... thank you for everything I was always happiest with you

You smiled as you admitted that to him; it felt good.

Sylus: Stop you're not dying on that island

You sniffled as tears began to sting the back of your eyes.

MC: it's too late ... just ... just tell me you love me Sylus: but- MC: Sylus please Sylus: I love you My Queen MC: Music to my ears........

Sylus still tried to look for you, but could never make it onto the island for the wanderers were too strong....even for him. Mephisto did however manage to find you and brought back the necklace Sylus had given you. It now sits on a mantle in a glass case.

[anticipatedexhale]

Jealousy jealousy~~

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, sevika, ekko

☆ ◞ summary: when they get jealous at someone trying to make a move at you.

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Fluff kinda angst idk

Jayce Talis.

The night had started out normal enough. A quick stop at a Piltover lounge, a few drinks, good company—it was supposed to be relaxing. Jayce had been looking forward to it all week, especially since he finally got to spend time with you outside of work.

And then he showed up.

Some random, smooth-talking socialite, flashing a charming smile and leaning just a little too close to you at the bar. Jayce had been mid-sip of his drink when he first noticed it—the way the guy’s hand subtly brushed against yours as he laughed at something you said.

Jayce didn’t consider himself a jealous person. He really didn’t.

But he also didn’t like the way this guy was looking at you.

At first, he tried to play it cool, sipping his drink, pretending not to pay attention. You were perfectly capable of handling yourself, and it wasn’t like Jayce had any claim over you.

Except… maybe he wanted one.

His grip tightened around his glass as he watched the guy lean in again, this time saying something low and smooth. You chuckled—polite, but dismissive. Jayce knew that laugh. It was the one you used when you were humoring someone you had zero interest in.

Still, the guy wasn’t getting the message.

Alright. That was enough.

Jayce pushed off his seat and strode toward you, placing a casual—but firm—hand on your lower back as he slid beside you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, his voice deliberately warm. “Sorry I took so long. Did I miss anything?”

You blinked up at him, immediately catching on. “Oh, not much. Just some small talk.”

The guy’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced between you and Jayce. “And you are…?”

Jayce grinned, though there was something unmistakably sharp beneath it. “Jayce Talis.” He extended his hand, his grip just a little too firm when the guy shook it. “And you?”

The guy shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, just a friend.”

Jayce’s grin widened. “Oh, just a friend?” His hand on your back subtly pulled you a fraction closer. “That’s funny. See, I thought you were hitting on my partner.”

You choked slightly, eyes widening as Jayce looked at the guy with a perfectly polite expression—like he hadn’t just dropped that word so casually.

The guy’s confidence wavered, and he let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh, no offense, man. Didn’t realize.”

Jayce’s smile stayed in place, but his eyes gleamed with something dangerously smug. “Yeah? You do now.”

The guy mumbled some excuse and quickly retreated, disappearing into the crowd.

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Jayce with an amused smirk. “Partner, huh?”

Jayce coughed into his drink. “I panicked.”

You raised a brow. “Seemed pretty smooth for a panic move.”

“…Okay, maybe not panicked exactly.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

You tilted your head, enjoying watching him squirm. “Jealous?”

Jayce scoffed. “What? Me? Nooo.” Then, after a pause, he sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay, maybe a little.”

You grinned, reaching up to straighten the lapel of his coat. “You’re cute when you get possessive.”

Jayce groaned. “Great. Now you’re never gonna let me live this down, huh?”

“Nope.”

But even as you teased him, Jayce couldn’t help the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. Because you were still here—with him. And that’s all that really mattered.

------------------------------------------------

Mel Medarda.

Mel Medarda was not the type to get jealous.

She was confident, poised, and completely in control at all times. If someone wanted to flirt with you in front of her, well—let them. She knew where you would be going home at the end of the night.

That being said… she did have her limits.

The evening had been going smoothly—an elegant Piltover gala, golden lights reflecting off the crystal chandeliers, the air buzzing with soft music and hushed conversations. You had accompanied Mel as her guest, and while she was busy entertaining council members and diplomats, you had wandered to the refreshment table.

That’s when he appeared.

Some overly ambitious noble, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He was all charm and slick words, flashing you a practiced smile as he poured you a glass of wine, his hand lingering a bit too long as he passed it to you.

Mel had been watching from across the room, her expression unreadable as she sipped her champagne.

She gave him a chance. One.

And then she saw it—the way his fingers barely grazed your wrist as he leaned in, whispering something undoubtedly bold.

Mel hummed, swirling her glass lightly before making her move.

With effortless grace, she glided through the room, her golden gown shimmering under the chandeliers. By the time she reached you, her presence was undeniable—the noble stiffened slightly as she placed a hand lightly on your arm, her touch as soft as silk.

"Darling," she purred, her voice smooth as honey, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

Your eyes flickered with amusement as you caught the subtle edge beneath her words. You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or nervous for the poor fool beside you.

The noble, to his credit, tried to play it cool. "Ah, Councilor Medarda. I was just getting to know your lovely companion."

Mel smiled—slow, dangerous. "Were you?"

There was no sharpness in her tone, no outright hostility. And yet, the noble swallowed thickly, suddenly aware that he had overstepped.

She turned to you, her fingers trailing lightly down your wrist before intertwining with yours. "I do hope they haven't been bothering you," she mused, brushing a stray hair from your face as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.

You smirked. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Mel let out a soft, knowing hum. "Of course not." Then, without another glance at the noble, she gently tugged you away, her grip light yet undeniable.

As you walked off together, you leaned in slightly. "You know, I think you scared him."

Mel arched a brow, amusement dancing in her golden eyes. "Good. He was getting on my nerves."

You chuckled. "Jealous?"

Mel merely smiled, raising your hand to her lips and pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. "Jealousy is such a petty thing."

But the way her fingers tightened slightly around yours told a different story.

------------------------------------------------

Viktor.

Viktor didn’t get jealous—or at least, that’s what he liked to tell himself.

He was logical, rational. Petty emotions like envy were for people who had time to waste. He had work to do—innovations to create, problems to solve.

And yet.

He had been going over blueprints at your shared worktable in the lab, completely immersed in his notes, when he heard it—someone else’s laughter mixed with yours.

His pen stopped mid-scratch.

Looking up, he found you standing by the doorway, engaged in a conversation with some bright-eyed researcher. They were laughing, gesturing animatedly, clearly trying to impress you. And what was worse? You were actually smiling at them.

Viktor felt a twinge in his chest, something unpleasant curling in his gut. He frowned, tapping his pen against the desk. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But then the researcher leaned in just a little too close, and Viktor’s patience snapped like a frayed wire.

He pushed himself up with his cane, making his way toward you at an unhurried pace. The clack of his cane against the floor was rhythmic, steady—an unmistakable presence approaching.

The researcher caught sight of him and faltered slightly. “Oh—Viktor! I was just talking to—”

“Yes, I noticed.” Viktor’s tone was light, almost pleasant, but there was an unmistakable sharpness beneath it. His golden eyes flickered between you and the researcher before landing on you entirely, his focus unwavering. “You’ve been gone quite a while. I was beginning to wonder if I had lost my most valuable assistant.”

You raised a brow at his pointed wording, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track of my time, Vik.”

Viktor tilted his head slightly, his gaze assessing. “I keep track of all important things.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks at the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The researcher, now clearly uncomfortable, cleared their throat. “Well, I should—um—get back to work.” And with that, they all but scurried away.

The moment they were gone, you turned to Viktor, arms crossed. “That was subtle.”

Viktor sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Ah, my deepest apologies. I had no idea my mere presence would cause such a reaction.”

You chuckled. “So, are you going to admit you were jealous, or should I just assume?”

Viktor scoffed, but there was the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. “Jealousy is irrational. I was simply…” He searched for the right words, tapping his cane idly against the floor. “…reminding them of their place.”

You grinned. “And my place is?”

Viktor leaned in slightly, his voice lower, softer. “Right here. With me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

For someone who claimed not to get jealous, he certainly had a way of making it very clear.

---------------------------------------------------

Caitlyn.

Caitlyn Kiramman was not the type to get openly jealous. She prided herself on her composure, her ability to remain level-headed even in high-pressure situations.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it.

You had been at a local café in Piltover, waiting for Caitlyn to finish up her rounds so the two of you could grab lunch together. While you were minding your own business, some overconfident merchant had slid into the seat across from you, flashing you a way too eager grin.

Caitlyn spotted it the moment she stepped onto the street.

At first, she hesitated, watching from a short distance. She wanted to trust you to handle it—but then the merchant leaned in, their hand brushing against yours on the table, and Caitlyn felt a prickle of irritation rise in her chest.

Alright. That was enough.

With long, purposeful strides, she approached the table, her blue eyes cool and calculating. “Excuse me,” she said smoothly, her voice polite but firm.

Both you and the merchant turned toward her. You instantly perked up. “Cait! There you are.”

The merchant, however, didn’t seem to take the hint. “Ah, and who might you be?”

Caitlyn’s smile was razor-sharp as she placed a gloved hand on the back of your chair, her presence undeniable. “Captain Caitlyn Kiramman of the Piltover Enforcers,” she replied smoothly. “And the person they’ve been waiting for.”

That got the merchant to stiffen slightly. “Oh—my apologies, I didn’t realize…”

Caitlyn arched a brow. “Didn’t realize what? That they were already spoken for?” She leaned in slightly, tilting her head. “Or that you were wasting your time?”

The merchant let out an awkward chuckle, making some excuse before quickly retreating.

Once they were gone, you turned to Caitlyn with an amused smirk. “That was almost scary.”

Caitlyn huffed, finally slipping into the seat across from you. “I simply dislike people who overstep boundaries.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Caitlyn scoffed, lifting her tea to her lips. “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Really?” You grinned. “Because that looked a lot like jealousy.”

Caitlyn gave you an unimpressed look, but the faint pink at the tips of her ears gave her away.

You chuckled, reaching across the table to brush your fingers against hers. “You could’ve just told them I was yours, you know.”

Caitlyn exhaled softly, her expression finally softening. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

Your heart fluttered at the undeniable certainty in her voice.

Because, jealous or not—she knew exactly where you belonged.

------------------------------------------------

Vi.

Vi wasn’t the type to subtly get jealous. If she was annoyed, you knew it.

And right now? She was definitely annoyed.

You were both at Jericho’s bar, just grabbing drinks and unwinding after a long week. Vi had left your side for two minutes—just to talk to the bartender about another round—when she turned back and saw some cocky Zaunite leaning way too close to you.

Her eyes narrowed.

At first, she just watched, arms crossed, observing how the guy was grinning at you, clearly testing his luck. He was laying it on thick, too, his hand resting on the bar near yours, body language screaming overconfidence.

Vi cracked her knuckles.

Taking her time, she sauntered back over, sliding onto the stool beside you and draping an arm over your shoulders in one smooth motion. “Hey, babe,” she said casually, ignoring the guy entirely as she leaned in, pressing a kiss against your temple.

You blinked up at her, amused. “Vi?”

She hummed, finally turning her attention to the guy. “And who are you?”

The man, now clearly realizing who he had just been flirting with, hesitated. “Uh—just talking to your friend here.”

Vi’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly. “Yeah? Looked like you were talking to my partner.” Her voice was deceptively light, but there was an unmistakable warning beneath it.

The guy held his hands up, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t know they were taken.”

Vi arched a brow. “Well, you do now.”

The guy muttered a quick apology and made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was gone, you smirked, tilting your head toward Vi. “That was subtle.”

Vi scoffed, picking up her drink. “Please. If I really wanted to make a scene, he wouldn’t have walked out of here with both legs working.”

You chuckled, leaning against her. “So… jealous?”

Vi huffed, taking a sip of her drink before muttering, “Whatever.”

You grinned, nudging her side. “You so were.”

Vi sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. Maybe a little. But can you blame me?” She leaned in, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip. “You are kinda irresistible.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and Vi grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

“Now,” she said, finishing her drink, “how about we really make it obvious who you belong to?”

The playful challenge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

Yeah. Vi might not do subtle jealousy—but you weren’t complaining.

------------------------------------------------

Jinx.

Jinx wasn’t just jealous—she was possessive.

She didn’t do subtle. If someone was getting too close to you, you bet she was gonna make a scene about it.

It started when the two of you were wandering around Zaun, just minding your business when some overly confident guy swaggered up to you, flashing a grin that instantly irritated Jinx.

She didn’t immediately do anything, though. No, she wanted to see just how far this guy would push his luck. So she crossed her arms, leaned against a nearby crate, and watched.

And, oh boy, was this guy an idiot.

“Didn’t think I’d run into someone as good-looking as you in a place like this,” he purred, clearly thinking he was smooth.

Jinx’s fingers twitched.

You, clearly aware of the tension building beside you, gave an awkward chuckle. “Uh, thanks?”

The guy actually reached out, fingers just about to brush against your arm—

—and then BANG.

A single gunshot blasted the air, a bullet embedding itself right next to the guy’s hand on the wall.

You didn’t even flinch. But the guy? He jumped, whirling around to see Jinx casually twirling Fishbones in her hands, a manic grin stretched across her face.

“Oops,” she sing-songed, rocking on her heels. “My hand slipped.”

The guy paled. “What the hell—”

Jinx tilted her head. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. Go on. Keep flirting. See what happens.”

He took one look at the absolute delight in her eyes—at how she was clearly enjoying this—and bolted.

Jinx cackled as he disappeared down the alley. “Coward!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Jinx, really?”

She huffed, marching up to you and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “What? You’d rather I let that slimeball run his mouth?”

“I could’ve handled it,” you teased, leaning into her.

Jinx squinted at you, poking your cheek. “Yeah, yeah. But I wanted to handle it.”

You smirked. “Jealous?”

Jinx gasped dramatically. “Me? Jealous?” She clutched her chest. “Pffft, please. I just really like scaring people.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Mhm, sure.”

Jinx pouted before pulling you into a sudden, tight hug, her voice muffled against your neck. “Mine,” she mumbled.

Your heart skipped

------------------------------------------------

Sevika.

So when she saw some cocky guy chatting you up at the bar—leaning a little too close, looking a little too comfortable—she didn’t immediately react. She just leaned back in her seat, swirling her drink, watching.

Jealousy was for insecure people. For weak people. She was neither.

You weren’t encouraging it, but you were being polite, nodding along as the guy kept talking. That annoyed her.

He was still talking? Still standing there?

Sevika sighed, rolling her shoulders before finally deciding she had enough.

She pushed off the bar with her metal arm, the heavy clank of it hitting the counter making the guy flinch before she even reached you.

“Hey,” she drawled as she slid up behind you, pressing just close enough to make a statement. Her voice was casual, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Didn’t realize we were making new friends tonight.”

The guy blinked, looking up at her—then immediately went pale when he realized who she was.

Sevika tilted her head, taking a slow drag of her cigar. “Something wrong?”

The guy took one last look at her—the sharp set of her jaw, the glow of her mechanical arm, the way she was clearly daring him to keep talking—before quickly muttering something about needing to be somewhere else and scurrying off.

Sevika exhaled a slow stream of smoke before looking down at you. “You just let anyone talk to you, huh?”

You smirked, leaning against the bar. “You jealous?”

She scoffed. “Please.”

You raised a brow. “Mhm. So you just casually felt like intimidating some random guy for no reason?”

Sevika rolled her eyes, taking another slow sip of her drink. “I don’t like interruptions.”

You chuckled, nudging her. “Right. Definitely not jealousy.”

She sighed, shaking her head before resting her metal arm against the bar beside you, effectively boxing you in. She leaned down just slightly, her voice lower now.

“You wanna test me?”

Your breath hitched.

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Thought so.”

She didn’t say she was jealous.

But the way she made it very clear who you belonged to? Yeah. That said enough.

------------------------------------------------

Ekko.

Ekko wasn’t the type to immediately get jealous. He was pretty secure in himself and in your relationship. But that didn’t mean he was oblivious.

So when some guy at the Last Drop started flirting with you, he didn’t overreact. At first.

He had been talking to some of the Firelights, keeping an eye on you from across the room, when he noticed the guy leaning in a little too close. At first, Ekko just sighed, shaking his head. He figured you’d shut it down.

But then the guy touched your arm.

And suddenly, Ekko wasn’t feeling so chill anymore.

Taking a slow breath, he rolled his shoulders before pushing off the wall, walking toward you with the effortless confidence that only he could pull off.

The guy was still chatting you up, completely unaware as Ekko slid in behind you, looping an arm around your waist before leaning close, his lips brushing your ear.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him. “Ekko?”

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before looking at the guy in front of you. His usual laid-back demeanor was still there, but there was a new sharpness in his gaze.

“Who’s your friend?” Ekko asked, his voice smooth but unmistakably pointed.

The guy hesitated, clearly unsure how to react. “Uh, just—just talking.”

Ekko hummed, tilting his head. “Yeah? Funny, ‘cause my partner doesn’t really need company.”

The guy opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly second-guessing whether it was worth pushing his luck.

Ekko smirked, his grip on your waist just barely tightening. “You good, man? ‘Cause you’re looking a little nervous.”

The guy quickly muttered something about needing to leave and disappeared into the crowd.

Ekko exhaled through his nose, watching until the guy was definitely gone before turning back to you.

You crossed your arms, amused. “Jealous?”

He scoffed. “Me? Nah. Just don’t like watching idiots waste your time.”

You smirked, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Mhm. Sure.”

Ekko sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe a little.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

[rafeysbangs]

⋆˚✿˖ ↷ab riding with rafe

warnings ; mdni. suggestive? not entirely smut..., ab ridiing obviously, kinda fluffy angst.

notes ; someone sent an ask with this but midway through writing this before it just disappeared off the face of the earth :( anyway to whoever sent the ask - this is for uuu. also i wrote this as a more angsty suggestive fluff fic i hope you enjoy it still !

the room is bathed in dim, golden light, the kind that makes everything feel hazy, dreamlike. the soft hum of the air conditioning is the only sound, a stark contrast to the rapid beating of your heart as you straddle rafe's lap. he's lounging on the plush sofa in his bedroom, shirtless, the toned expanse of his chest and abs on full display, and his hands rest lightly on your hips, as if he's waiting for you to make the first move.

“you’re staring,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. his voice is low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. his blue eyes gleam with mischief, though there's something deeper there too, something softer, reserved only for you.

“just... appreciating the view,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless. the words make his smirk deepen, though the intensity of his gaze never wavers.

his abs shift under you as he shifts slightly, leaning back further into the couch, giving you full control. “appreciate all you want, baby. i’m not stopping you.”

there’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes, though. even as he teases, you know this is more than just playful banter for him. rafe, the man who’s always been so guarded, so closed off, is offering himself to you in ways he’s never offered to anyone else. and it’s not just physical. it’s trust. it’s the walls he’s built so high coming down, brick by brick, just for you.

your fingers trail along the ridges of his abdomen, tracing the lines that define his muscles. he’s impossibly warm beneath your touch, his skin smooth but taut. he’s watching you, his breathing slow but deliberate, as if he’s trying to steady himself. it’s a rare moment; to see rafe cameron unguarded, vulnerable, completely at your mercy.

“you’re so serious,” he murmurs, his tone softer now. “you’re gonna make me think you’re nervous.”

“i’m not nervous,” you lie, though the way your voice wavers gives you away. his smirk returns, and his hands tighten ever so slightly on your hips.

“good,” he says, his voice dropping lower, sending a thrill through you. ‘cause you’ve got no reason to be. you’ve got me, baby. i’m yours.”

you’ve never been able to get used to the way he says things like that, so openly, so confidently, even when you know it’s a big deal for him. rafe cameron, who’s always been the one to push people away, is now pulling you closer, letting you see every raw, messy part of him.

slowly, you start to move, your hips rocking gently against him. his hands guide you instinctively, finding the rhythm with you. his head falls back against the couch, a low groan escaping his lips as his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice rough with need. his hands slide up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that makes your heart race even faster.

but it’s not just about the physical connection. it’s about the way he looks at you like you’re his entire world. the way his walls come crashing down when he’s with you. the way he lets himself be vulnerable, open, raw, things he’s never been able to be with anyone else.

as the intensity builds, you lean down, your forehead resting against his. his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world fades away. it’s just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in unison.

“i’ve got you,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you.

his hands tighten on you, his breath hitching as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “and i’ve got you,” he says, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “always.”

in that moment, you realise just how much he’s given you. not just his body, but his heart, his soul, his everything. and you know, without a doubt, that you’ll never let him go.

taglist ;  @rafegetinmybed @sqfewrd @dreamyy-cloud @vampteeth @wtfisastiles @flvredcas @plaidcowboy @sematarygirls @slut4you @kravitzwhore @daryldixon83 @lexavanhuelee @dorcas4meadowes @foolishangelic @i2rapunzel @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafestoothbrush ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )

[rmview]

hard to handle | san, m.

summary: san, a cocky boxer with a notorious temper, meets his match in his resilient physiotherapist who refuses to quit despite his antics. he does a good job keeping you at a distance, but during a playful bout, unintentional feelings surface and cause things to get a little physical.

pairing: boxer!choi san x physiotherapist f!reader

genre: boxing!au, pwp, tension, smut

words: 4.2k words

warnings: explicit & messy & unprotected sex, mean!san, cocky dom!san, big cock!san, sub!reader, size kink, pinning/restraining, teasing, clothed grinding, biting, praise, marking, fingering, clit play, orgasm control, edging, handjob, penetrative sex, choking, tears, creampie, almost public sex (?) and voyeurism themes — they’re in a public room with the door unlocked, interruptions.

minors do not interact! | masterlist | more ateez content

“you’re not allowed to quit.”

the words came sharp and sudden, slicing through the air with the same precision san delivered in the ring. you froze mid-stretch, hands stilling over his sore leg. slowly, you turned to meet his gaze, confused by the uncharacteristic weight in his tone.

“…okay,” you replied cautiously, trying to gauge his mood.

san’s brow furrowed deeper, and the irritation etched across his face didn’t waver. “coach kim told me you were planning to leave,” he pressed, voice edged with something almost accusatory.

you blinked, letting his words settle. with how insistent and demanding san was, it wouldn’t have surprised you if that rumor had sprouted legs and started running. after all, you weren’t the first physiotherapist to step into this circus — and judging by the quick turnover before you, most had found the door far more inviting than the job.

but you stayed.

why? it wasn’t some deep-seated need to prove yourself or a traumatic past molding you into a masochist. no, it was simpler than that: the paycheck was solid, and once you learned to see past san’s gruff exterior and insufferable tendencies, he was just… tolerable. like dealing with an overgrown five-year-old throwing tantrums in the body of a professional fighter.

“well, coach is wrong,” you said, shrugging as you resumed your careful movements on his leg. your voice was calm, steady, not betraying the flicker of amusement rising in you at his sudden concern.

but san wasn’t convinced. his dark eyes narrowed as if searching your face for a crack, a lie, a tell.

“he said you’re thinking about it,” he countered, his scowl deepening. “you can’t leave. i need you.”

it wasn’t romantic — far from it. his words came out firm, almost commanding, the way you’d expect from someone used to giving orders. someone used to winning.

still, something about this moment felt different. the commanding façade faltered ever so slightly, and there was a flicker of something raw in his voice. vulnerability, maybe? you weren’t sure. but it was there, buried under the frustration, and you couldn’t ignore it.

what was his deal? what was it about the idea of you leaving that got under his skin?

you paused again, letting your hands rest gently on his leg as you glanced up. his expression hadn’t softened, but you could see the edges weren’t as sharp. your lips twitched, a small smile creeping in despite yourself.

“are you sure coach kim wasn’t just teasing you?” you asked, your tone light as you tried to ease the tension. “you know, considering your, er, personality? because honestly, i haven’t thought about leaving.” even though it’s the saner option, you thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

san huffed, leaning back against the mat, his lips pressed into a thin line. he looked at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching before he finally spoke. “are you calling me a problem?” his voice was low, sharp, and cold enough to send a chill down your spine.

your breath hitched as his piercing gaze locked onto you, unrelenting and unreadable. his tone alone made your stomach twist, but it was the way his leg pulled away from your hands that had you stiffening. the dismissal in his actions was clear — he didn’t want you there.

“i…” you faltered, feeling the weight of his words press against you. “of course not, san. you’re not the problem.”

your voice was soft, careful, an attempt to diffuse the tension. but his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, signaling that your words did little to soothe his frustration.

“then leave,” he snapped, turning his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest like a fortress. “i don’t need you.”

his dismissal stung more than you’d like to admit, but you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “i’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your tone hushed but steady, a small smile twitching on your lips. “i enjoy working with you too much.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a mean sneer. “don’t bother lying, princess, you’re terrible at it.”

his words were biting, but the way he leaned slightly closer didn’t go unnoticed. he was testing you, waiting for you to crack under the weight of his intimidation.

“i’m not lying, i wasn’t lying.” you whispered, shaking your head. “just teasing…”

“well, stop it,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave. the air around you grew heavier as he glared at you. “it’s annoying. i don’t like it.”

“i know,” you murmured, your voice almost playful as you reached out, lightly brushing your fingers against his arm. “but that’s exactly why i do it. you’re kind of… cute when you’re like this.”

his eye twitched at your words, and the next thing you knew, he moved. with one swift motion, he shoved you back against the couch, his body towering over yours. his knee pressed into the cushion beside your hip, locking you in place, while his other hand braced against the armrest, boxing you in completely.

the weight of his presence stole the air from your lungs as he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours. the glint in his eyes was sharp, teasing yet dangerous, and his lips curled into a sneer that sent a shiver down your spine.

“cute?” he repeated, his tone mocking as he pinned your wrists above your head. his grip was firm but not enough to hurt, though the dominance in his posture had your heart pounding.

you stared up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, your cheeks heating under his intense scrutiny. “san…” you started, but your voice faltered.

he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. “do you think you’re immune to being kicked to the curb just because you’ve been here the longest?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with warning.

your lips parted, a soft laugh escaping despite the way your body trembled under his. every part of you that he touched sent sparks flying through your veins, down your spine and between your legs. “you’d never. i’m your favorite,” you whispered, trying to mask your flustered state with a teasing edge, your words holding truth.

his expression hardened, but he didn’t pull away. instead, his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “you wish,” he scoffed, though the slight hitch in his breath betrayed him. that and the subtle twitch of his cock in his shorts that you definitely felt from how you froze.

you weren’t sure whether to feel thrilled or terrified, but one thing was certain: you were treading dangerous waters, and san didn’t look like he was about to let you off easy.

“...this is a very risky, er, position,” you choked out softly, voice slightly strained. your gaze flickered between his narrowed brown eyes, to the door of the break room that you both were in, it’s door unlocked. your thighs rubbed together almost unknowingly and you resisted the urge to squirm. you were trapped.

“mhm.” san hummed dismissively, his gaze not leaving you. every twitch in your expression was noticed by him, especially the growing warmth on your cheeks and ears, that made him smirk. “and?”

“and coach could walk in...” you cleared your throat, mind fogging and something in the pit of your stomach clenching. you couldn’t imagine the look on the old man’s face if he walked in and saw you under the star fighter you were supposed to be healing. “it would be embarrassing.”

san chuckled, and your gaze snapped to his. it was mocking and you shivered — from fear or arousal, you didn’t know. “why? we aren’t doing anything... yet.”

“yet?” your heartbeat was wild, throbbing in your ears. you were sure san could hear it. if he was being so mean, he definitely could and was taking advantage of how meek you were. he knew you could never say no to him, not that you wanted to. “what do you — mmpf!”

the next thing you knew, you felt a tongue slipping past your lips, swirling inside your mouth. your breath was stolen from you, and with his free hand, san grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them to the couch, using his body to keep you in place.

it was a sloppy and dominating kiss. he explored and claimed every part of your mouth without pulling away. his body pressed against yours, and the kiss slowly grew more heated. his hand wandered down your sides, squeezing them softly for a moment before he pulled away from your lips, breaths mingled.

san studied your expression, eyes still narrowed in a cold glare. he smirked at how out of breath and dazed you looked, and pushed his knee between your thighs to part your legs. you were practically shaking and san didn’t even do anything yet.

“stupid.” he mutters out, tone rough and husky. leaning down to your neck, san began sucking on the sweet spot under your jaw that made you squeak.

his body pressed against you, almost uncomfortably, and you were practically trapped underneath him. your wrists were still pinned down, and you were hyperaware of every ridge and pane of his body on top of your curves. his broad chest, beefy arms, strong thighs and hard cock were suffocating you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“you’re so stupid and cute, i could eat you right now.” he rasped, lifting his head to look down at you. his face was inches from your own. san looked obsessed.

you shivered at the unusual glint in his piercing glare, his smirk almost evil and you flushed. “eat me?”

“every last bit.” his voice was rough. a stark contrast to his actions. his hands would rub up and down your sides gently, his face still close.

a low and sensual growl spilled from between his lips as he kissed you again, lips rougher. he brought one of his hands up to thread into the hair at the base of your neck, tilting your head so he could have more access to your lips. his arm wrapped around your waist, tugging your body as close to him as possible.

everything was fine — as fine as san eating your face off could be — until you felt something long and hard press right against your clothed clit. “ngh... san!”

he merely chuckled against your lips, sharp teeth tugging your bottom lip, and then smoothing the sting with his warm tongue. “what?”

“i’m...” you started, but were unable to continue, gasping when you felt his hips grind against yours once more. small sparks shot from your clit to your spine, and you arched softly, voice a pitch higher. your pussy clenched around nothing. “...sensitive.”

“i know.” san groaned in your neck, and you felt his thick fingers of his free hand undo the drawstrings on your uniform scrubs. he silenced any of your gasps with another kiss, slipping his fingers into the front of your pants to push past your panties. you barely had time to register his next actions, until you felt the rough pads of his calloused fingers run over your quivering clit and folds.

your wrists were still held down with one of his hands as you moaned shakily, eyes squeezing shut. you felt san’s long fingers smear your slick all over the folds of your cunt, cursing lowly under his breath.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he exhaled, his fingers circling your swollen clit and making you twitch. the feel of you writhing under him, feeling you squirm and hearing you moan, it only made san want more. he leaned down, his lips on your neck, nipping and sucking as he slipped a digit into your pulsing pussy, feeling your tight walls clench around him. “fuck.”

san gritted his teeth and, his body trembled with restraint.

“san... ah...” you squirmed softly as you felt his fingers pump and prod your spongy walls, gushing wetness the longer he stretched out your cunt. your eyes were glazed, and your arousal was dripping down his knuckles the longer he curled and scissored you open on the couch. “we... we shouldn’t be doing this.”

the sounds of your pretty voice, the feeling of your hips moving against his hand, the soft moans and gasps — san was losing himself in you. he added another finger, feeling the heat of your cunt around his digits, wanting to hear those sweet sounds of yours. “oh?”

“t-the door... it’s unlocked.” it was a miracle you could still think from how deliciously he played your cunt, but your ears were still hyperaware of the faint yells and sounds of sparring from the main gym. you throbbed around his fingers, almost in fear of being caught.

san grunted, reaching as deep as he could with the tips of his fingers before slowly pulling the digits out, and glancing down to see the way his skin glistened with your juices. “doesn’t matter.”

“but...” “but nothing.” san scoffed and sat back on his knees, undoing his shorts and pushing the cloth down along with his boxers so his hard cock sprung out. the veiny length was twitching and leaking precum from the angry red tip, and your flushed gaze was drawn to the sight while you rubbed your sore wrists. he used your slick smeared on his fingers to pump his hard cock, taking in the sight of you panting and sprawled half-naked on the break room sofa, thighs parted and folds glistening. “the only one coming in this room is you.”

your gaze met his smirking one and you tried to scowl softly, propping yourself up on your elbows shakily. “very funny.”

“i’m not done with you, princess.” san crawled back over you, pushing his face in your neck to nip at that spot that made you squirm, shifting between your legs.

you were so tired of him toying with you that you reached out to grasp his cock with your hands, experimentally stroking the hard length. your fingers couldn’t even wrap fully around the girth of his thick shaft, but that didn’t stop you. san let out a choked groan, his teeth gripping the flesh of your neck as you flicked your wrist at an agonizingly slow pace.

it was your first time fisting a cock and your hands were almost shaking. yet you loved the feeling of the large man practically turning into jelly above you from a few strokes. it only motivated you to try and squeeze tighter, pumping up and down, as your flustered gaze met his weak one. san was still trying to keep up his facade, but not for long.

san couldn’t hold back any longer. “that’s enough!” he hissed weakly, smacking your hand away and pulling you to lie back down on the couch, while he positioned the bulbous head of his thick cock at your entrance. “no more playing around.”

san was looking down at you, his eyes dark and focused, his body trembling with restraint that was held by a thread. he was so tightly wound and needed to cum now, before he actually lost it.

“o-okay...” your clit throbbed as he rubbed his cock against your wet folds a few times. your eyes were almost hazy from pleasure, and you pawed at the leather of the couch for stability. suddenly san couldn’t hold back any longer.

he grabbed one of your legs, to rest it over his shoulder, and pushed it up before he leaned over you, his body hovering above yours as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck. san’s hand gripped one of the small throw pillows for a moment, moving it underneath your hips, and then he slowly started to push his cock forward into your entrance.

as he sunk his thick shaft into your cunt inch by inch, the feeling of you clenching around him, the feeling of your breath catching in your throat, the way your body shook at the slow bottoming out — san’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.

he grunted through his gritted teeth, his hand leaving the pillow by your hip to reach up and grasp your wrist, to hold it down again. san looked down at your face, his hips rocking slowly at first to get a feel of stretching out your small stretchy cunt, as his words came in short bursts. “god… ah… just like that…”

“san...” your voice was a soft breathless whimper, the sight of him above you making you quiver and clench more. all your dazed eyes could see was a beefy and sweaty san on top of you, jaw clenched and grunting, and you nearly came on the spot. “y-you... you... i hate you.”

he sight of you below him, so docile, flushed and soft, made his chest swell with something, his lips pulling into a slow mocking grin. “yeah?”

san was so desperate, so fucking hard at the thought of claiming you all night, to mark you and keep you under him. you had no idea how much he needed you. how could you, when he’d never said a word?

your cunt was so tight and warm. like nothing he’d ever had, or imagined in his long showers after training, eyes closed and fisting his cock for a quick release while he wished it was your cunt milking him instead. now, having you under him for real felt like a fever dream, and san’s hips had a mind of their own from the way his thrusts started to pick up pace.

“yeah.” your breath hitched softly, already forgetting your previous train of thought from the way san’s hips angled. the tip of his cock continued to repeatedly bully the spongy sensitive spot in you, making you see stars. “you’re so mean to me... all the time... a-and... and...”

you trailed off, eyes squeezing shut softly as you nearly found yourself cumming all over his cock. san was close too, and he just needed a few more thrusts before —

knock, knock.

fuck.

both you and san froze, and for a moment you felt your soul leave your body. whoever it was, could just twist the knob of the unlocked door and see you sprawled under san, with your leg over his shoulder, and his cock buried ten inches deep in your cervix.

“san, sparring practice in ten minutes!” coach kim called out cheerily from behind the door, unaware.

“we’ll be out soon.” san’s voice rumbled, and your wide-eyed gaze snapped to him, clenching almost in fear. san felt the twitch of your walls and glanced down at you, something almost evil lighting up in his eyes. “doc is still busy working on my bad leg, aren’t you doc?”

the color drained from your face when you felt san’s hips resume their thrusts, and you almost fearfully tried to push him away. shaking your head, you tried to stop him and whisper-yell, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to say a word without moaning shakily, so you stayed silent. something neither san, nor coach would let you do.

“is everything okay in there, doc?” coach kim asked, as you squirmed under san, his large palm holding your hip in place under him, and your ankle in place over his shoulder. his thrusts were still quick, aimed to make you and himself cum as soon as possible, whether coach walked in or not.

“answer him.” san’s lips brushed against your ear as he whispered hotly, smug. “you don’t want him to — fuck — come in, would you?”

it was hard to gather the courage to speak without screaming, especially when you opened your mouth, and the asshole above you took that as the exact moment to decide to rub your clit, coughing softly to disguise your noises. “i, uh, — ngh — we’ll be coming! in sometime... just... go on, coach... no need to — stop that! — wait up!”

you blurted between whimpers, trying to swat san’s wandering hands away as he pinched and rubbed all sensitive spots on your body, even dipping down to bite at your clothed nipples. you were still on edge as coach could walk in anytime, but that didn’t bother san. if fact, his hips pistoned into your cervix at a mind-numbing pace, all thoughts blown from your mind.

“you heard the man,” san grunted in your ear. his smooth skin was drenched in sweat, slight red marks left on his shoulders from your nails, and his brows were furrowed in concentration. “we have five minutes to finish.”

you let out a strangled noise when you felt the sudden onslaught of stimulation, his large palms grasping your hips as he fucked you hard. guiding your hips to match his, san made sure his hips were angled to fuck right up into your womb, smirking to himself when he noticed the slight outline of his cock bulging from your stomach. “t-there’s no way... that we can f-finish... in 5 minutes...”

“you wanna bet?” san rasped, forcing his mouth on yours, kissing you deep and slow, his own grunts and sighs barely muffled by his lips. san could feel you tightening around him, hear the breathy, soft pants coming from your lips.

how could he hold himself back when you responded so eagerly?

san pulled his lips away to look down at you, his hand leaving your leg to grasp at your throat, his calloused thumb resting on your jaw, and his grip firm. you looked so good under him like this.

“that’s it, princess,” san groaned, his hips pushing forward, his voice uneven from all the pleasure. he didn’t think he’d last the next 30 seconds, let alone 5 minutes.

but he wouldn’t cum before you. that would almost be insulting, making sure to use his free hand to fondle your swollen clit, bringing you to finish as soon as him.

“san!” you cried out, already feeling your release building. you tried to bite at your knuckles to keep yourself quiet and muffle all the whimpers and gasps that could reach outside the room. your nails dug into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

both of you were so close, san’s hips moving more erratically, and your body losing control. your voice was choked and a pitch higher, every noise you made streaming into soft sobs, tears blurring your eyes. you felt too good. “san... i’m gonna...”

san could feel your body trembling, your breathing getting shallower, and when you spoke, it only made him feel closer. he panted, his breath coming out in hot, uneven puffs, his nose rubbing against yours, his hand on your throat tightening.

“go on… squeeze that cunt of yours tight… i’m almost done.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, and when you squeezed so beautifully for him, san lost himself.

he came with a strangled groan, his movements stuttering, his hand squeezing on your throat for a moment. his eyes squeezed shut as white hot pleasure coursed through his veins, his mind blanking out and ears ringing. for a few moments, he thought he saw the pearly white gates of heaven, as he unsteadily pumped ropes after ropes of his hot cum into your pussy.

you could feel your insides being painted white while san grunted curses under his breath, the hot seed almost burning your walls. he made sure to thrust a few more times so his cum filled your insides snugly, fucking it deeper.

your overstimulated whimpers were what bought san back to reality, the ringing in his ears fading as he looked down at you, disheveled and naked waist down, his cock still buried deep in your cunt.

he was momentarily distracted by the sight of your puffy folds wrapped around the base of his cock, a creamy ring of cum around his shaft. he felt himself twitch, just barely suppressing the urge to fold you in a mating press and take you again.

“still hate me?” his voice was slightly strained. san couldn’t find it in himself to pull out yet. his gaze flickered down to your disheveled shirt stretched over your chest, and he couldn’t help but grasp your breast and squeeze. he’d play with them next time.

you were too out of breath to reply or swat his hand away, exhaling shakily as you slowly got down from your high. “i’m still deciding.” you needed a moment, or ten, to get your thoughts in order. “and you didn’t finish in 5 minutes, you took 8.”

“whatever.” san chuckled, nipping your cheek playfully.

he slowly pulled out, his muscles tired. but he wasn’t fast enough. because the next thing you knew, there was a soft click, and the two of you didn’t even have time to freeze, before the break room door swung open.

“san, you little shit, you’re late for — what the fuck!?”

author note: my first smut fic, yay! if this sounds familiar to you, it’s because this plot is heavily inspired by the love of my life, joo jaekyung from the bl manhwa jinx (he’s the best guy around)! please do interact and tell me what you think! also, i made the banner myself so pls show some love if you think it looks nice :3

tag list: @tsukisrants ; @dawn-iscozy ; @vixensss