#that it's one of the first songs that you hear sung by regret in the game

[stellamancer]

on repeat 🔁

go to 'on repeat'/heavy rotation playlist on spotify/apple music, throw it on shuffle and share the first 10 songs you get

tagged by @kedsandtubesocks who loves me very much and knows i love babbling about music (posting music ig)

Keppekishou (cover) by Scop

We Found Love (cover) by Forever The Sickest Kids

MEDiUM by IDOLiSH7

Endwalker - Footfalls from the Final Fanatasy XIV Endwalker OST (composed by Masayoshi Soken)

Dynamis from the Final Fantasy XIV Endwalker OST (composed by Masayoshi Soken)

Love Distance Long Affair by DECO*27 feat. Topi

Before Anyone Else by Bae

SINGI (remix) from the Caligula2 OST (vocals by Regret (Arisa Kouri); composed by sasakure.UK)

Beyond the way by Giga

Existence of us by Etsuko Yakushimaru

[taeghi]

Tides of Regret by lee heeseung | (m)

♫ song : swim by chase atlantic

pairing : fwb!heeseung x reader + zb1 sung hanbin x reader

summary : being magnetically attracted to frat boy lee heeseung was a bad mistake. but, agreeing to be friends with benefits with him was an even worse one. getting caught in a relentless, toxic cycle together leads to facing the consequences of your choices with a grand moment of truth. will you be able to break free from the destructive tide, or will you remain trapped in the undertow of toxic love?

warnings : squirting lol, daddy kink, slapping, choking + more :D

word count : 22.5k

part of the enhypen playlist series

minors do NOT interact

taglist : @ipoststuffandyeah @ariadores @ramenoil @fluerz @skzenhalove @kgneptun

If there was one thing that you liked to do, it was party. You liked dancing, listening to, most of the time, shit music and hanging out with your friends. A good, any kind of party could always lift your mood. But, if there was one party you’d always try to avoid– it was frat parties. Especially the ones that were hosted at Lee Heeseung’s so-called notorious fraternity house. 

Lee Heeseung and the rest of the frat he belonged to were the embodiment of the classic frayboy archetype. And they didn’t have the best reputation. They were the self-proclaimed rulers of campus who liked to party way too much and break many hearts, especially the hearts of freshmen’s. 

So, you were understandably less than thrilled when Dayeon and Shana insisted we pay a visit to their den of debauchery this Friday night. 

Everyone who belonged in the frat were bad, but Lee Heeseung was definitely the most popular and the worst. He was all you heard about during the your freshmen year as all your friends were trying, or had hooked up with him. Now during your junior year, you hear about a new Lee Heeseung escapade at least once a week from either your friend, or overhearing it from some crying freshman in the library. 

Heeseung did not care about or who he hooked up with. As long as they were alive and had tits, he was into it. And although he had a long reputation about being a womanizer, he also had a reputation of being amazing at sex. 

Mixed along with all the broken-hearted-tears shed, there were constant rumours being spread about how easily he could make a girl cum. Which is a rare occurence with college frat boys. But everyone knew, that if you wanted to cum, go to Lee Heeseung. 

He intrigued you during the first half of your freshman year, the idea that a sophomore could make any girl cum. You fed into the rumours about his sex life, and all the kinks the fratboy allegedly took fancy of. One of those kinks being a daddy kink. Yes, a cliche one, but now, three years later, and it seems to be the only kink of his that everyone is aware of. Even your wide-eyed, almost innocent freshman friends come up to you and ask if it is true that the senior, Lee Heeseung has a daddy kink. 

You don’t know if it’s true, and you don’t want to know. You make an effort to stay away from the frat house of womanizing, except for tonight. 

“Y/n, you’ve gotta give this party a chance,” Dayeon says when she hears you sigh from your bed again. “I heard they’ve got an actual, killer DJ lined up for tonight!” 

You roll your eyes at your friend’s attempt to persuade you to want to enjoy the frat party tonight. “I don’t care about the DJ.” 

“Right, you just care about the guys who hired the DJ.” Shana smirks from her reflection in the mirror as she finishes her makeup. 

You roll over onto your stomach to look at your friend in the mirror, “I do not care about those awful frat boys, I care about the drama that seems to always follow them around. Drama, that is just not worth it.” 

Shana rolls her eyes playfully, starting to fix her black hair for the night. 

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Dayeon nudges your leg with hers, “We’ll stick together, and if Heeseung or any of the other frat guys try anything, I’ll smack them with my feminism 101 textbook.” 

You chuckle, appreciating Dayeon, “Fine, I’ll go and attempt to have fun. But if Heeseung or any of his minions come near me, I’m unleashing you, D.” 

With a grin, Dayeon jumps ontop of you, squeezing you into a bone-crushing hug. “Deal, this is gonna be a night to remember!” 

The three of you show up the Enha Tau fraternity house, you already wanted to leave. Of course, it was the loudest house on the block, with the music and cheers being able to be heard from streets away. The root of the cheap beer and sweat scent seemed to be in this house. 

The house was a sprawling two-story structure with large windows that flashing, neon lights were shooting out of and filling up the street and sky. The laughter and cheers that were coming from inside signaled that the party was in full swing. 

Shana oozed femininity in her pretty black dress that showcased her hourglass figure and matched her big doe eyes and full lips. Dayeon was dressed to make a statement like usual, her aura was one to not be fucked with as she was fierce and independent. You were sandwiched between them, feeling out of place in your oversized white blouse and black skirt, in the freezing night air. Together, you walked into the house, each one of your with very contrasting styles that reflected your contrasting personalities. 

An hour into the party, and the three of you have gotten immediately swept up in the lively atmosphere. Music throbbed through the overly crowded rooms, and the air was thick of alcohol, sweat and shit cologne. You tried your best to enjoy yourself, as you sipped on some wannabe fruity, vodka-laden drink. 

You were leaned against the fake fireplace wall, taking occasional sips of the drink. This was a far cry from what you were usually like at a party. But despite the energetic scene around you, you couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something was off about this party. The laughter and chatter blurred into an annoying symphony, and even the faux warmth of the fireplace couldn’t calm your chilled nerves. You knew that the only thing you wanted right now was the comfort of your own bed, but you couldn’t ditch Shana and Dayeon this early. So, you opted to stay at the wall and keep an eye out for them. 

Shana was the center of attention as always as she was surrounded by her giggly, cheerleading friends. Their faces painted with excitement as they vied for her attention. You watched as a cluster of guys were slowly, but surely making their way towards them to strike up a conversation. Which you knew would be useless since Shana would turn all of them done with her unmatched grace. 

Dayeon was not that far away from Shana in the living room, engaging in some passionate conversation with a group fo people you didn’t recognize. But you were sure that one of them was Sung Hanbin, staring at Dayeon with a smirk that you didn’t understand. This wasn’t his frat, so you wondered why he was here and not at his own frat’s party. You lost interest in watching him engage with Dayeon’s group when he looked over and winked right at you. 

You start to move away from Hanbin’s eyes and head to the kitchen to find something else than that colourful, awful fruit drink. The more you moved to the kitchen, the more the music and laughter muffled, creating a temporary reprieve from the chaos. The kitchen was swarmed with intoxicated college students, their voices slurring with their laughter as they looked for their next alcoholic drink. You stood near the table against the kitchen’s doorway, waiting for your turn and scanning the drink options from a far to find something more to your taste. 

You mentally decide on whatever the orange liquid is in the bowl that the drunk people seem to be getting more and more of, when a voice pierced through their slurred conversation, catching your attention. 

“What the fuck, get that asshole out of here, I do not want Hanbin here.” 

You’re about to turn your head to see the source of the confrontation, but your curiosity is cut short when a sudden, frigid splash of that wannabe fruit, vodka dense drink engulfs you. Your entire blouse drenched with liquid and the white fabric replaced with colour. Some laughter erupted from the drunk, kitchen bystanders, but you didn’t pay them any attention, instead you focused on the figure standing before you. 

In the dimly lit kitchen, it only took you a second to recognize your shirt’s perpetrator as Lee Heeseung. The notorious frat president that you had been hoping to avoid all night, now stood inches before you. His now empty cup, slowly dripped the remnants of vodka and his smug expression held a hint of mockery and shock as he looked down at you. 

You were stunned and unable to conceal your irritation as you locked eyes with Heeseung, who could only stare at your shirt. When you look down at the damage, your irritation fades to embarrassment as your pink lacey bra is on full sight as your white blouse is now see through from the drink. 

“Fuck.” you gasp, your arms coming up to cover your chest. Heeseung’s amused smirk remained as he surveyed the mess he had created, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he looks at your face of horror. “This isn’t funny, Heeseung.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s just a shirt,” he says, his tone light, “Besides, I think it looks better this way.” 

Your irritation and scowl grew bigger, “I can’t believe you just said that, fuck you.” 

Heeseung’s smirk doesn’t waver at your words, “Okay, okay, I get it. My bad,” he said, offering a shrug, “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a new shirt that you can borrow.”

His casual offer took you by surprise in your current, evident discomfort, “Fine.”

Heeseung smiled, his eyes dancing with mischief, “Okay, come upstairs with me to get one.” 

You hesitated for a moment before saying, “No!” 

Heeseung quirked an eyebrow up at you, “What? You wanna change in the kitchen?” 

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I'll come upstairs, but I’m not having sex with you.” 

Heeseung laughs heartily, “Relax, we’re just getting you a new shirt, right?” 

“Right.” 

As you make your way upstairs, you made note to not grab his hand like all the other people going upstairs together. Your steps are deliberate and your expression was a mix of annoyance and determination. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why you’d agreed to his offer except to avoid more humiliation. 

Heeseung’s room was a typical representation of a college frat boys living space, no surprises. It was chaos with clothes thrown across the floor, empty bottles every where and textbooks and papers spread all over what looks to be a desk. The posters of sport teams and bands was the only sense of familiarity in the room. 

As Heeseung rummaged through his drawers that barely closed, searching for a suitable shirt to give you, your eyes inadvertently landed on a pair of women’s underwear on the floor. You quickly averted your eyes, disgust filling you more as you took in your surrounding. 

With a shirt in hand, Heeseung turns toward you, who tells you to change in the bathroom that’s connected to his room. You close the door, leaving it slightly ajar as you turn away from it. You hear Heeseung sit on his bed as he waits for you. He has to physically force himself to look away from his bathroom door where he could see your reflection in the mirror, the hint of your stomach being shown as you start to lift your wet shirt off. He stares at his Red Sox poster instead. 

“You’re Angel, right?” his voice asked as you wipe the stickiness off of your chest. 

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone guarded. You glanced at his busy reflection in the mirror, moving to the side so you’re hidden away from his sight. 

“You’re friends with Shana and Dayeon, right?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of recognition. 

You roll your eyes, your exasperation with the situation evident in your response, “Yeah, I am.” The connection to your vivacious friends was clearly the point of reference for him, something that only added to your frustration. 

When you come out of his bathroom, his shirt way too big for you and tucked into one side of your skirt, Heeseung feels light headed. He has never, ever given his clothes to a girl before, and he definitely didn’t think it would have this much of an effect on him. The way his shirt fits him perfectly, but has you swimming it makes his cock twitch, but he snaps back into reality and focuses on your scowl instead. 

“I’ll give you the shirt back next week,” you tell him with a serious tone as you make your way towards the bedroom door. 

“Nah, it’s fine, you can keep it.” he tells you with a shrug. 

“I do not want to keep your shirt, Heeseung.” you tell him with a tone of disgust. 

“Fine, fine, whatever.” Heeseung replies, he lets his back hit his mattress as his feet remain on the floor. 

You roll your eyes and continue to leave, stopping with your hand on the door handle with a sigh, “But, thanks, for letting me borrow it.” 

Heeseung sits up on his elbows, “No problem, sorry for ruining your other one.” 

Without another word, you open the door and leave. You pull out your phone and text your friends that you’re leaving in five minutes and to meet at the front door if they want to come with you. 

When you finally get to the front door through the large crowd of people, Shana and Dayeon are there waiting for you. 

Through her glazed eyes and slurred voice Shana asks, “Whose shirt is that?” 

“Don’t ask.” you reply briefly, trying to ignore Heeseung’s cologne, and head straight through the front door, ignoring Dayeon’s and Shana’s confused expressions as they follow you. 

You successfully dodged your friends questions about the shirt all weekend. And this morning you stuffed the shirt in your bag before they could see and headed straight to where you knew Heeseung and his friends usually hung out at school. 

Thankfully, you found him quickly so you wouldn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day. He was standing against the wall, his backpack slung around one shoulder as he talked with his friends. His back was towards you so he didn’t see you coming, but one of his friends nodded towards you to get his attention. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Heeseung greets when he turns to see you. 

“Hey, here’s your shirt back,” you hand him his folded shirt. 

“Thanks, but you really could’ve kept it,” 

You want to reply that you’d never want another one of his shirts again but one of his friends, Choi Beomgyu you think, speaks up. 

“Ouu, did you and Heeseung have fun up in his room the other night.” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows with his words. 

Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling up again, “No, we did not.” you snap at the group who all have teasing eyes. 

Another one, Song Eunseok pipes up with an exaggerated smirk, “Oh, come on Y/n. Heeseung’s not usually the type to hand out spare shirts.” 

Your anger flared up and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t care what you think. You don’t know anything about what happened that night, so just shut up.” 

You turn on your heel and storm of, leaving Heeseung with a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He wanted to speak, to help you, but he couldn’t help but keep quiet amongst his friends. As you disappeared around the corner, his smile faltered, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of remorse for the way his friends had teased you. 

Throughout the week, you had tried your best to bury the memories of Lee Heeseung, his friends and the frustration that came with them. You needed focus on your studies and yourself, but you could not get rid of the residual annoyance that seemed to cling to your mind. 

You had been looking forward to this weekend, anticipating an actual good party to help relieve your stress and temporarily escape the unease the had plagued you last weekend. On Friday evening, you and Dayeon had started getting ready to head over to your friends’ party. The whole time you knew your aim was to let loose and forget all complications of your college life. 

Just as you were finishing up, Dayeon’s phone rang. You watched her confusedly glance at the caller ID before she showed it you. 

Wonyoung

  Answer?

Wonyoung was on the cheerleading team with Shana and was friends with her, so you were confused as t why she would be called Dayeon. 

Dayeon answers with a quick, ‘Hello’, and you watch as her face contorts into concern as she continues to listen to the other line. When she hangs up she turns to you with a disappointed face. 

“What?” you ask her. 

“Shana’s really drunk, and she needs someone to come pick her up.” 

With a heavy sigh you nod, “Alright, let’s go get her. Where is she?” 

Dayeon nervously chuckles, “Uh, yeah, she’s uh, at Enha Tau.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Really? She has to be there, of all places?” Dayeon nods her head, “Let’s go get her, as quick as possible.” 

The two of you left your party plans behind, exchanging irritation and concern for their friend as they headed to the awful frat house. You couldn’t believe you were returning to the palace that had caused you so much annoyance, but you knew that Shana needed you. Friends come first, even if it meant dealing with Lee Heeseung. 

Dayeon and you both split up when you arrived at the large frat house, thinking that it would be faster to find your friend if you took different sides of the mansion. The house was filled with college students like the week before, all dancing, listening to music and drinking. You had to weave in and out of the crowed, while searching for a familiar head of black  hair. 

“Well, well, well, back for some more fun, Y/n?” a voice asks you as you head into the kitchen to look for Shana. 

You turn at the sound of your name and stop when you realize it’s Heeseung talking to you. “God, no. I’m just looking for Shana and then I’m leaving.”

Heeseung pouts as he looks around into the living room, “I haven’t seen her all night.” 

You scoff, “Thanks, see ya.” you turn on your heel, but his voice stops you again. 

“Y/n, wait,” he speaks, and when he sees that you do he continues, “Why’re you always so irritated with me?” 

His question takes you aback, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface, “Because I don’t want to be titled as another one of your whores.” you retort, your words laced with bitterness. 

It’s Heeseung’s turn to scoff as he juts out his hand and latches onto your arm, he ignores your complaints as he drags you over to a quiet hallway attached to the kitchen. He lets go of your arm when it’s silent, your back against the wall as he stands in front of you. 

“You can’t be seen with me without being called a whore?” 

“What?” you ask, “Don’t act like you aren’t aware of your whole fuckboy reputation.” 

Heeseung’s eyes hold amusement as they lock with your own, “Okay, I like to have sex, what’s wrong with that?” 

“N-nothing.” you stutter pathetically. 

Heeseung smirks and moves closer to you, “You won’t be called one of my whores Y/n, you’re so different from them.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I could treat you so much better than any of them, if you’d let me.” Heeseung ducks his head down so it’s level with your own. His body is only inches away from you now, “Would you let me, Y/n?” 

You gulp as your thoughts start to race. Heeseung’s charm was undeniable as his smirk never wavered as he watched you take in his words. This seductive game he started was ending quick and he was winning. 

“Why would I let you if I could get fucked better by someone else?” your voice comes out softer than your words are and it makes Heeseung laugh. 

“No one could fuck you as good as me, Y/n, and you know that, you’ve heard that.” 

You roll your eyes at his cockiness, “Yeah, sure, and I’ve also heard about your daddy kink.” 

You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, but Heeseung only bites his lip to hide his smile, “Yeah? And what about you, Y/n? Do you have a daddy kink?” 

You gulp again, confused on how you’ve even ended up in this situation so quickly. You know you should be looking for Shana but Lee Heeseung has you trapped against his body and the wall and your panties feel like they’re starting ot stick to your core. 

Your lack of a response makes Heeseung smirk, “C’mon Y/n, let me show you how good I can make you feel. Let me prove it to you.” 

Heeseung starts to move his head in closer, you can practically feel his lips ontop of yours, feel his warmth all over your front as your back feels the cool wall. You give in and move your up to meet his, but he moves his away, tsking at you. 

“Tell daddy that you’ll be a good girl and let him make you feel good. Tell him you want this.” 

His voice makes your knees buckle. The fact that he’s referring to himself as daddy makes you want to have him right here, right now in this closed off hallway. 

“I want you to make me feel good, I want this.” your voice comes out in a whisper as you confess to him. 

A harsh slap lands on your left thigh from his hand, making you yelp out. 

“Who do you want to make you feel good?” 

You gulp as you say, “Daddy.” 

Heeseung’s hand covers your throat as he speaks, “Good girl.” 

Heeseung smashes his lips onto yours. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions coursed through you. The kiss held so much desire, yet you knew you shouldn’t be doing it. But as your mouths moved in an intoxicating rhythm, a push and pull of  sexual attraction only made you want to continue. You lost yourself in the kiss, well aware of the potential consequences that can occur as you finally succumb to the charms of Lee Heeseung. 

Heeseung was quick to pull you up into his room that you were in for the first time last week. This time, as you walked up the stairs, you held his hand as you allowed him to lead you. 

Heeseung didn’t hesitate to lay you down on his bed, your back against his mattress and hair sprawled out across his white pillowcase. His hands roamed your sides as you continued to makeout. Your hands latched onto the hair of the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

Though, he wasn’t so close for long as he pulled back, his lips wet and swollen that probably matched your own. 

“Are you sure you want this, Y/n?” he asks you as he looks into your eyes. 

“Yes, daddy.” it startles you for a second of how quick you are to respond. 

Heeseung bites his lips at your reply, but his tone is serious when he speaks, “No, really, you want this? Because, just tell me to stop and I will.” 

You let your hands drop from his shoulders and squeeze his hand that’s resting on your hip, “I want this, Heeseung, really.” 

Heeseung smiles softly at you, “Okay,” and he leans in to press a long, less lustful kiss onto your lips. When he pulls away, his usual smirk and devious gleam in his eyes are back, “Now be a good girl for daddy, yeah?’ 

“Yes, daddy.” you tell him, loving the affect you have on him everytime the word slips from your mouth. 

“Daddy wants to show you how good he can make you feel, show you no one else can make you feel as good as I can.” he speaks inbetween words as he presses kisses down your jaw and neck. “Think you can handle that?” 

“Please, daddy,” You begged, anticipating what you’ve only ever heard of from other people. Anticipating if Lee Heeseung was really as good as they say. And so far, you believed it. 

His warm hands started to pull down the thin straps of your dress, the fabric releasing and allowing your tits to be freed to his eyes. Your pink nipple perked up immediately as his index and thumb twisted around it. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, your hips bucking up into his from such a small movement. 

Heeseung chuckled as he spoke, “That feel good, already?” You nodded in response, wanting to feel more of it. Suddenly the twisting pleasure was removed by a sharp slap on your nipple instead, a gasp leaving your mouth as your back arched up. “Use your words, baby.” 

“Y-yes, daddy. That felt good, daddy,” you nodded up at him as your body ached for more of him. 

Heeseung hums against your other nipple in response. Sucking it into his mouth and circling it with his warm tongue. His hands pushed your dress lower down your body, leaving you bare except for your panties. 

Heeseung’s hands continue their descent as his fingers push your panties aside. He doesn’t hesitate ot slip his middle finger inbetween your wet folds. You whine, your fingers tightening their hold onto his sheets as he starts to find a pace to finger fuck you. 

“Fuck, who’re you so wet for baby, hm?” Heeseung asks you, his voice sultry as his eyes move from where his fingers diapppear inside of you to your face. 

“You daddy, so wet and messy just for you,” you tell him honestly. 

Heeseung obviously likes your response as he slips in his index finger as well. Both of his fingers start to work inside your mesh walls, finding your g spot so quickly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. You’ve never had a guy finger you so well before, usually you just have to fake it or deal with it until they’re bored. But, looking down at Heeseung, he genuinely looks like he loves fingering you. He’s so obviously paying attention to what makes you moan and squirm, and god, he’s already gotten you so close to the edge. 

“You can cum for me, baby.” Heeseung reads your mind, your body. His lips press deep kisses onto your lower abdomen, biting and sucking the area as his fingers don’t slow down their pace. “Cum all over my fingers, show me what a good girl you can be for daddy.” 

With the final referral of himself as daddy, your body is sent into a climax you oh, so needed. Your body arched upwards off of his mattress, your fingers twist in his sheets as you try to ground yourself as the pleasure takes over you. You could hear Heeseung encouraging you, praising you in a blur of your climax. 

When you came down, panting and shocked that a man could make you cum so fast and good on hisi fingers, Heeseung could only laugh into your skin. You let him slip of your soaked panties as you tried to calm your breathing. 

“Didn’t I tell you I could make you feel good, why do you look so shocked?” Heeseung asks you, spreading your legs so your wet core is open to his eyes. 

“I just, wasn’t expecting it to be that good.” you reply maybe too honestly, but it doesn’t bother Heeseung. His focus is on the pink mess in front of him. 

It’s then that you realize how much you like being naked in front of him while he’s still fully clothed. It’s a feeling you can’t describe, but allow yourself to rest in. 

Without a warning, Heeseung licks a wide strip up your wet core. You cry out his name, surprised from the intrusion and sudden pleasure. He continues to lick up your folds, circling your clit everytime. He keeps his hands on your thighs to stop them from closing around his head. 

His lips suck all over your core, making sure to reach every part of you that makes you scream. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm that this one feels like it’s coming even faster. The sight inbetween your legs is almost nauseating from how much it’s turning you on. 

Heeseung seems pussy drunk on you, his eyes closed as he focuses on your taste, your pleasure and your moans of encouragement. You’ve never felt so much pleasure from someone’s tongue, and Heeseung seems to know exactly what he is doing. His tongue starts to dart into your hole, making you cry out his name. Your hand reaching for his hair to poull him closer into your core. 

“Fuck, daddy! Please!” you cry out, eyes shut from the pleasure threatening to abrupt. 

“You gonna cum on daddy’s tongue?” he mumbles into your core, his lips never completely leaving your body. 

“S-so close, please,” you continue to beg, not wanting him to stop. 

“Cum on daddy’s tongue, you can do it.” he tells you, before sucking your clit directly into his mouth. 

With his permission, you let the coil in your stomach finally snap. Your legs threaten to close, but Heeseung doesn’t let them. He continues to lick your pussy until you’ve come down from your high. You had to push his head away from how sensitive you were. 

When Heeseung lifts his head up, his lower half of his face is shiny and wet from your juices. He watches you try to catch your breath as you lay back completely on his bed. He likes being able to tell just how good you’re feeling. How good he’s making you feel. 

“You really taste so good, baby.” he speaks, moving up the bed to be over top of you. You feel your cheeks redden as you look up at him. He grabs your chin in between his fingers and thumb, locking your face still. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out, too. Heeseung purses his lips before he lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth, directly into yorus. You can’t help but moan at the action as you close your mouth and swallow it. There’s a hint of the taste of yourself mixed with his. “Good girl.” 

Heeseung and you makeout softly then. Taking in each other and building up the tension again as you moan and whine into each other’s mouths. 

“Think you can take one more?” Heeseung asks you when he pulls away. 

“Yes, daddy.” you reply obedietnly. Heeseung smiles and leans down to press a kiss onto your shoulder. 

Heeseung stands up off his bed briefly, and tugs down his bottoms, his hard dick popping out. It made your jaw drop at the sight. The tip red and dripping, and the veins protruding up and down the shaft. You wanted it so badly. You watch him slip on a condom from his bed side drawer. 

He kneels back onto his mattress and lifts your legs up so you’re knees are bent towards you. He holds your ankle with one hand as he guides his cock into your hole with the other. It slips in so easily since it’s soaked with your juices and his spit. Both of you groan out as he sinks in slowly. Heeseung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as your pussy engulfs him. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he groans out, eyebrows furrowed as he rests inside of you. 

“You feel so good, daddy.” you tell him honestly, feeling like his dick was in your stomach. Heeseung grunts at your words, bringing his other hand to grip your waist. 

Slowly, Heeseung starts to pump in and out of you. Both of you hissing at the feeling. It felt so good, so full, so wet. You genuinely don’t know the last time you’ve ever felt this good, so sensitive. 

“Faster,” you speak up, wanting even more. 

You’re responded with a slap on your clit, making you jolt forward with a cry. 

“Use your manners,” Heeseung’s words are sharp at you. 

“Go faster please, daddy,” you tell him, hoping he obeys yours words. 

Suddenly, Heeseung starts pounding into you at an extremely fast pace. He grips your legs tight as he pushes them towards your chest. You’re completely folded for him to be able to reach your g spot with every thrust. His bedroom is filled with wet squelches as he fucks into you so fast. You feel him deep in your stomach now, and you can’t help but release screams of pleasure, not caring if the people downstairs can hear you. 

“Like this, baby? You like it when daddy fucks you like this?” Heeseung grunts out through grated teeth as the pleasure is also affecting him. 

“D-addy! I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, your core so sensitive from the two earlier orgasms. 

“Do it. Do it, cum all over daddy’s cock.” he encourages you, wants you to do it. 

He speeds up his movements even more. Both of you feel your walls tighten around him more before you’re releasing all over his cock, his abdomen and his sheets. You feel droplets of your release land on your thighs, your core even more wet as Heeseung keeps thrusting through your high. 

“Fuck!” Heeseung lets out, watching your pussy squirt all over him. He can’t stop himself from hitting his climax. He releases his white cum into the condom, grunting out your name and praises as he does so. You can only repeat his name over and over again as you feel your body start to go numb from the pleasure. 

Both of you still with him deep inside of you, both of you catching your breaths. You’re both sweaty and tired, but feel so so good. 

With a grunt, Heeseung pulls out of you slowly, and throws the used condom in a trash can near his bed. You suddenly feel so naked next to him and wrap his sheets around your body. Heeseung sits on the bed next to you, with his boxers and shirt on. 

When he glances over his shoulder at you, a grin is on his face, “Fuck,” he nods at you. 

You can’t help but smile back, “That was…-” you start to say but he finishes. 

“The best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” you tell him as you sit up, keeping the sheet wrapped around your bare chest. 

Both of you laugh as you take in what just happened. Neither of you had ever felt so fucking good in your entire lives. Both of you looked crazy with your messed up hair and sweat droplets down your faces. 

“I can’t believe you squirted,” Heeseung laughs out into his room, the music from downstairs being able to be heard again. 

“Dude, me neither,” you tell him honestly, “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know I could do that,” 

Heeseung shrugs as he lays down on his bed, “I told you I could fuck you good, believe me now?” 

You roll your eyes at him, looking for where he had thrown your dress earlier, “Yeah, whatever.” You stand up, grabbing your dress and starting to unroll it so you can rewear it. Heeseung stays laying down, watching you dress. You avoid eye contact with him as you do so, the bedroom coming tense. 

You glance into his mirror, trying to brush down your as you prepare to go find Dayeon and Shana- shit, Dayeon and Shana. 

“Hey, uh Y/n,” Heeseung calls to you. 

“Yeah?” You turn to look at his figure. 

With your attention, Heeseung sits up, “Maybe, since it was so good, we should do that again, some time,” 

Your jaw wants to drop at his words but you keep it glued. Lee Heeseung never fucks the same girl twice, and if he does it’s because the girl is relentless or he was drunk. But an open invitation by he, himself, you couldn’t believe it. 

“Like? When?” you ask him confused. 

“Whenever. When either of us wants a fuck we can hit each other up,” 

“Like, friends with benefits?” you suggest and tilt your head. 

Heeseung thinks for a second, “Yeah, sure,” 

You scoff with a smile, “Sure,” you toss him your phone before going back to his mirror to fix your appearance and look less like you just had amazing sex. 

Heeseung types his phone number into your phone and then texts himself to get yours before he hands it back to you. “Here,” you take it from him and put your hand on the doorknob to leave, “I’m serious, though, whenever you want, whenever we’re both free,” 

You nod, “Whenever you want,” you echo back. 

“Deal?” Heeseung reaches his hand forward to shake. 

“Deal.” Your hands meet, and then suddenly you’re in a friends with benefits contract with Lee Heeseung. The frat president you had always tried to avoid. The frat boy that made you so frustrated and annoyed and humiliated. The frat boy that made you scream so loud from pleasure, the one that made you feel like you never had before. So, maybe this won’t all be disastrous. 

When you’re about to leave Heeseung calls your name again, stopping you, “Just so we’re clear, sex is the only thing I can give you– nothing else.” 

His words make a sly smile spread on your face, “Heeseung, don’t worry, I am not going to fall in love with you,” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Bye Y/n,” 

You leave his room and wonder what the hell you’re going to tell Dayeon and Shana.

Luckily, Dayeon and drunk Shana didn’t spend too much time waiting around for you, and they didn’t ask too many questions about where you had gone. Dayeon was too focused on helping Shana get home and into bed to wonder about where you had disappeared to. You helped Shana while thinking about how you were going to hide your friends-with-benefits deal with Heeseung. 

You couldn’t tell your friends about what you had done with Heeseung. You had gone on too many rants about frat houses and frat boys, and how you wished they weren’t a thing. The three of you had all had many interesting conversations about why Lee Heeseung was the wrost grat boy, after seeing so many freshman and other girls cry. Even some of your mutual friends and acquaintaces have cried to the three of you about Lee Heeseung. 

But you told yourself that you would not cry over the frat president. You would not be like any of the other girls who have shared their heartbroken stories with you and your friends. So, there was no reason to tell your friends. They wouldn’t need to worry about you or a broken heart if there was not going to be a broken heart. 

Just as long as your friends don’t find out, everything should be fine. You’re gonna get amazing sex, is it really that big of a deal that it’s with Lee Heeseung? 

Okay, maybe. 

But what your friends don’t know, won’t hurt them. 

The three of you were sat in your college’s cafeteria for lunch. It was busy and loud, but you had nothing else to do before your next class. You talked about what happened on the weekend and other campus gossip that you’ve heard. You tried to engage with your friends normally, but you struggle when you know Heeseung is sitting across the room from you. 

Heeseung and his friends, who are probably also in a frat, sit across the room. You could hear their laughter through all the others. You subtly glance over at Heeseung, not wanting your friends to see, your curiosity getting the best of you. Heeseung met your gaze with a nod and a playful smile, a silent acknowledgement of your unspoken deal. 

As Shana and Dayeon continued to talk, Dayeon suddenly brought your name up– distracting you from Heeseung. 

“Huh, what?” you ask her. 

Dayeon rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?” 

“Uh, yeah, I was just thinking about my project that’s due.” 

Dayeon gives you a weird look before continuing, “Well I was saying, that Sung Hanbin asked about you the other day?”

Flashes of the last time you had seen him ring in your mind. At the party a few weeks ago, when he winked at you and then overhearing Heeseung wanting to get him kicked out. 

“Why would he ask about me?” 

“Yeah, and why are you hanging out with him recently?” Shana asks Dayeon with a curious expression. 

“Right, I did see you two at the party a few weeks ago,” You nod in agreement with Shana. 

Dayeon shrugs, “I don’t know, we have a few classes together.” 

“What did he say about me?” 

“Nothing much, just asked what you’re up to and all that.” 

You didn’t know much about Sung Hanbin, besides from that fact that he is also in a frat. You’ve heard a few stories about him at parties and how he loves to dance. He seemed nice through all the times you’ve heard about him, or passed him in the hall or at parties. You wondered why Heeseung didn’t like him so much. 

“Why would he care about that?” You ask your friends. 

Shana shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe he’s into you.” 

Dayeon agrees, “Probably,” 

“What? No,” you shake your head, “I’ve never even spoken to him before.” 

“So?” Dayeon asks, “He can still see you, he can think you’re pretty,” 

You snark your face up in disgust at her words. 

“What?” Shana laughs, “Hanbin’s not that bad looking, I think he’s cute.” 

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Dayeon agrees with your friend. 

You roll your eyes, “He’s whatever,”

“Oh come on, Y/n,” Shana whines, “You never think anyone is cute,” 

“Yeah, how do you expect to get laid if you don’t think anyone’s cute,” Dayeon chimes in. 

You scoff, “Easy, I don’t expect to get laid,” 

Your friends laugh as you feel your phone vibrate on the table. You flip it over and see a notification: 

Heeseung (best dick evr)  do u want to meet me at my car after last class? 

You hold back your gasp at the contact name to avoid attention from your friends. Why the hell would he make his contact that? You glance across the room at him, a playful smirk on his face when he meets your eyes. You sigh and read his message again. 

You type a brief ‘ok’ before you slide your phone away from you. You listen to what Dayeon and Shana are talking about, trying to focus on your friends. But your eyes can’t help but wander over to Heeseung who’s smiling at you behind his friend’s back as they leave the cafeteria. 

You feel excitement bubble in your stomach and panties as you think about what you and Heeseung are going to do after your class. You’ll just have to wait three hours to find out. 

Enduring the entire class while anticipating fucking Heeseung felt like an awful eternity. Every minute seemed to stretch and you found yourself not being able to sit still for the a mere second. 

When the class finally ended, you waved bye to your friends and practically bolted out the classroom. You headed straight for the parking lot, which was busy as people were trying to find their cars and leave for the day. The late afternoon sunlight blinded you as you looked around for him. 

Heeseung stood by his car, leaning casually against it, scrolling on his phone. His car, the one that everyone knew belonged to him, was a sleek, black camaro with clean lines and a polished finish. As you approached, Heeseung glanced up, his handsome face lightening up into a devious expression as he watched you walk towards him. You don’t miss the way his eyes trace your body. 

With an almost courteous gesture, he opens the back door, “After you.” 

You pop your hip out, “We’re having sex in your car?” 

“Uh, yeah, I have somewhere to go after,” 

You roll your eyes but crawl in. Inside is nice, it smells almost brand new it’s so clean and almost empty. As he crawls in next to you, you look outside the tinted windows, watching everyone getting in their cars, or stopping and talking with their friends. It’s the afterschool rush and now you’re going to have sex with Heeseung. 

“What? Worried they’ll see us?” Heeseung quirks an eyebrow at you, “The windows are tinted.” 

“What if they hear us?” You bite your lip anxiously at the thought. 

Heeseung laughs, “What? Don’t you want everyone to know how good your daddy fucks you?” His hand juts out and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing along your jaw. His words remind you of how soaked your panties are, and how you’ve had to endure waiting for three hours for this. You needed his cock so bad. 

“Fine, kiss me,” you speak. 

Heeseung grips your jaw tightly, “Ask daddy nicely,” 

You swallow, “Please kiss me, daddy.” 

And he does so. His lips meet yours with more familiarity. His rhythm, the texture, the taste, the feeling. It’s a feverish kiss. One that’s been on hold since he texted you earlier. Both of you knowing what was going to happen, and when it was going to happen, but not being able to do it right away. 

“Want you to suck daddy’s cock,” Heeseung pulls away to say, hsi eyes looking dead into your own. 

You nod at him, “Okay, daddy,” 

You guys shift so that your knees are on the car floor and inbetween Heeseung’s spread legs. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” 

You sigh and look up at him, “I want to Heeseung, don’t worry,” 

Heeseung softly smiles at you and leans down to press a kiss on your lips, “Then suck,” 

Your hands found his jean zipper quickly, pulling it down and both of you helping to push his jeans down to his knees. His cock was already semi hard, the bulge evident in his black boxers. Your hand starts to cup his dick while your lips press kisses into his bare thighs. 

“Can’t wait for your dick to be in my mouth, daddy,” you look up at him through your eyelashes, your hand cupping his dick tighter through the fabric. 

“Yeah? Been thinking about it? Thinking about daddy’s cock?” Heeseung asks, his head tilting to the side as he does. 

“Mhm,” you answer honestly, “ever since I left your room last time,” 

Heeseung smiles almost innocently at your answer, teasing that he’s also been thinking about you but won’t say it. 

You finally peel off his boxers so they’re at his knees with his jeans. His cock sprung up, his tip beckoning you to put your mouth on it. You brought the pink head to your mouth, taking small kitten licks at it. You feel Heeseung’s thighs tense at the feeling. 

Slowly, you bring the tip into your mouth, sucking around it. Heeseung’s hand flies down to tangle into your hair. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holding onto you as you give him pleasure. 

You take in every inch of his dick, your cheeks tightening around it as you suck. When you think it’s successfully wet enough you let up to breathe.

“Spit in my hand, daddy,” you hold out your hand to him. 

Heeseung groans at your words, “Fuck,” but does so. He leans forward and lets a drop of his spit land in your palm. You put your hand onto his dick, so it mixes with your saliva. 

You let your hand start to jerk his hard cock up and down as you put it back into your mouth. 

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he nods at you, his eyelids half closed from the pleasure. 

You could taste his precum in your mouth as you continued ot suck. Your tongue circles all the prominent veins as your hand continued it’s movements. Everytime your tongue would swipe across the slit of his tip, Heeseung would groan out your name, wanting you to continue. 

“You’re such a good girl for daddy,” Heeseung praises you, his hand in your hair tightening with the more pleasure he felt. 

You started to suck in your cheeks more everytime his tip would hit the back of your throat. You held it in your mouth for as long as you could before you needed air, just wanting Heeseung to feel so good because of you. Heeseung was starting to not be able to stay still. His neck thrown back onto the headrest as he looks down at you working on his cock. His breaths were becoming erratic as you continued. 

“You gonna cum so fast, daddy?” you tease him, your wide eyes meeting his only made him want to cum more. 

“Shut up, no,” he says breathlessly, his hand in your hair now pushing you down on his cock. If it wasn’t so far in your mouth you would’ve laughed at him. You could feel how hard his cock was in your mouth now. Feel how tense his body was as he took in all the pleasure you were giving him. “Okay, fuck, fuck,” Heeseung takes you completely off his dick, a string of saliva attaching your mouth to his tip. 

“You almost came, didn’t you?” you ask him, out of breath along with him. 

Heeseung nods, “Sorry, your mouth’s just like heaven, seriously.” 

You pout up at him, “Then why won’t you cum in my mouth, daddy?” 

“Oh my god,” Heeseung groans out, “you’re seriously gonna kill me.” You laugh at him as he lifts you up off the car floor, “Want you to ride daddy, that’s why.” 

You nod at him as you start to take off your bottoms, Heeseung’s hands aren’t shy to lift up your shirt so your tits are revealed. You whine as he starts to mouth at your tits before you can even kick off your panties properly. “Daddy,” 

“What?” he mumbles into your skin, “You look so fucking good today, so pretty. Can’t help myself.” 

“Really?” you can’t help but ask, never really thinking about the fact that Lee Heeseung finds you pretty, or attractive. You kind of just thought that he saw you as another pussy to fuck. 

Heeseung pops off your nipple with a quirked eyebrow, “What? Of course. You’re always pretty.” Heeseung watches as you throw your bare leg to the other side of his so you’re straddling him. Your bare cores brushing against each others, “Fuck, and sexy.” 

You hum in acknowledgement of his words before you lean down and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick and rought and sloppy as you both want to feel each other. You reach down to grab his cock but his hand reaches out to stop you, “Wait, condom.” 

“Oh, right,” you nod, and hold onto him as he reaches over into the glove department to grab one. “Really? You have hundreds of them in your car?” 

Heeseung chuckles as he opens the package, “Well yeah, you never know when you’re gonna need it, right?” 

You roll your eyes but let him slide the condom on and then lift you up so you’re positioned over top of his cock. Slowly, you start to sink down onto his hard member. Both of you make eyecontact as he fills you up, watching the pleasure take over each other’s faces. 

When he’s all the way in you can’t help the harsh breath that escapes your lips. 

“H-holy shit, daddy, you’re so deep.” 

Heeseung nods, “Yeah, can you feel me right in your tummy, baby?” he asks you, his hand coming between your bodies to press down on your lower abdomen. You almost scream when you feel it press against his dick inside of you, right up against your g spot. 

“Yes daddy!” you nod, “P-lease move, need it so bad, please.” 

Heeseung starts to thrust up in you at a quick pace, giving you no more time to adjust to his size. With every thrust you swear you can feel him deeper and deeper in your stomach. Your whole body is bouncing up and down on his cock. 

From this perspective you can see out the entire back window of the car. There’s people still walking to their cars, stopping and talking. You close your eyes as you focus on the pleasure Heeseung is giving you. His face is smashed into your breast, biting and sucking them as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. You know your knees are going to be sore after this, but for now it just feels so good. 

When you open your eyes again, there’s two girls standing at the back of their car that’s directly beside Heeseung’s. They’re talking and laughing with each other, having no idea what was happening in the car just a meter away. The thought that they could hear you makes more excitement bubble in your stomach and you know you’re gonna have to be quicker if you don’t want them to catch on. 

Heeseung feels you tighten around his cock suddenly, a groan escaping his lips when he does. He glances up and sees where your eyes keep glancing to. The two oblivious girls stand only a door away from his car, and he knows that that is what is turning you on more. 

“Do you want them to know how good your daddy is making you feel, huh?” Heeseung slaps your ass with his hand. You have to bite down on your lip to mask your squeal that almost escaped your mouth. 

“Daddy,” you whine out to him, feeling your cheeks heat up to a rosy colour. You felt embarrassed but so turned on that you couldn’t stop riding Heeseung’s cock. 

“Want them to hear how you cry out for daddy?” Heeseung smirks into your skin, his thrusts meeting your bounces harshly, his tip hitting your g spot over and over. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, your grip tightening on his shoulders as Heeseung pounds into you. When you glance over at the girls they are staring right at your car, their eyes widened as they must notice the car moving now. You cover your mouth with your shaky hand, trying to silence yourself through Heeseung’s pleasure. 

You feel Heeseung’s hand slip between your bodies to start rubbing your clit at a fast pace, making you cry out his name more, “Want you to cum on dadddy’s cock, baby. Want you to soak it.” 

You notice the girls start moving to get inside their, obviously understanding what was happening in Heeseung’s car, now. You nod your head rapidly at Heeseung’s words. You feel your orgasm start to build more and more with Heeseung rubbing your clit. 

Suddenly, it hits you so quickly. Your orgasm crashes down on you, leaving your whole body numb as it rides the pleasure it’s been given. You’re arching your chest more into Heeseung’s face as you throw your head back, crying out ‘daddy’ as you see stars. 

“Good girl, fuck, good girl.” Heeseung praises you. He feels your wet pussy clamping around his dick so tightly that he can’t hold on to his own orgasm much longer. 

Your jaw falls slack when you feel Heeseung’s dick twitch inside of you before he releases his cum into the condom. Heeseung slopily kisses your neck as he grunts your own name into your skin. His hips don’t stop thrusting into you until you’re whining from sensitivity. Then, both of you are breathing heavy onto each other, catching your breaths. 

When you glance over at the car parked beside you, you notice it’s gone, along with majority of all the other cars and people that were in the parking lot when you first entered Heeseung’s car. You wonder if any of them even noticed you getting into his car. 

You shift your shirt back down over your chest and stomach. You move to slide Heeseung out of you, so you sit beside him in the back seat and start reaching for your bottoms. Heeseung starts to copy you, shifting to pull his boxers and jeans back up to his hips. It’s almost awkward as you dress. 

“Um, I guess, I’ll go now, then.” You say to him, glancing over at his figure as he readjusts himself. 

Heeseung shrugs, “Alright, I’ll see you around.” 

You nod and open the backdoor, standing up and out– and then you feel drops of wetness hit your head. You glance up at the once clear, blue sky and see that it’s now grey and covered with heavy clouds that exude the drops. You sigh as you realize you’re going to have to bus home in this. 

“Hey, uh, I’ll drive you home,” Heeseung speaks from the back. 

“Really?” you ask him, “You sure?” 

“Yeah, no problem– get in the front.” 

Both of you move so that you’re now in the front of his black camaro. Heeseung turns on the heat as you settle in and he pulls out of the school parking lot. It’s silent in the car, besides briefly giving Heeseung directions to your apartment. You find yourself staring at your hands in your lap. 

“Did you really not think I’d want to drive you home in the rain?” Heeseung questions suddenly. 

You look over at him, his one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps his head looking forward, you look out your window when you answer, “Yeah, I guess.” 

“What? Why do you always think of me as some asshole?” 

You hear his defensive but curious tone, “I don’t know, just stuff I’ve heard about you.” You hear him scoff so you look at him. You’re stopped at a red light and he’s leaning how elbow on the window with his hand brushing through his bangs. “What?” 

Heeseung glances at you, “Nothing, it’s just, I’ve heard things about you but I don’t treat you any differently.” 

You’re taken aback at his words. You didn’t even think Lee Heeseung had properly heard about you before he gave you his shirt. “What have you heard about me?” 

The light turns green as Heeseung moves the car in motion again and he shrugs, “Just, that you’re a prude and no one understands why Shana and Dayeon are friends.” 

Your face wants to contort into a hurt expression, but you don’t let it. Instead you turn to look out your window. You can not believe people say that about you. That before the night Heeseung gave you his shirt that that was what he had known about you. That that was why he confirmed if you were friends with Shana and Dayeon that night. You wondered just how many people thought those things about you. You wondered if Shana and Dayeon thought those things about you, they were always nagging at you to get laid. 

Heeseung feels guilty from your silence. He thinks maybe he shouldn’t have told you what he had heard before. But you were also hurting him. It was true that he liked to have sex, but did that really make him an asshole? Did that make him deserve to be treated lower than you? You didn’t even want to be seen with him at his own house party. 

Heeseung sighs, “Sorry,” 

You roll your eyes in your window reflection, “It’s fine.” 

The car comes to another red light and Heeseung lets his back hit the car seat, “Look, Y/n,” you turn to look when your name is mentionned, “I don’t care who or why you’re friends with people– and I definitely don’t think you’re a prude,” you tilt your head at him, “It’s just, how about we restart? You forget everything you’ve heard about me, and I’ll forget everything I’ve heard about you.” 

You let his offer ring in your head for a moment, realizing that maybe you had been a little too much on him with the whole asshole-fuckboy-frat stereotype. Maybe you should’ve been a little nicer to him. With that, you sigh. 

“Fine, okay– deal.” 

Heeseung smiles at your agreement, “Deal.” 

The car starts moving again, and this time the silence between you two is lighter. There’s no more unknown things about one another. No more apprehensiveness towards each other. Just the two of you, who like to have sex together, in the car. 

Suddenly, your stomach growls, taking up the silence. Both you and Heeseung glance at each other from the noise. 

“What? You hungry?” Heeseung asks, a playful smile on his face. With your nod his smile only grows, “Want McDonalds?” 

“Uh, yes!” you nod eagerly, “Please! God, I’m actually starving.” 

“What? My cock didn’t fill you up enough?” 

“Heeseung!” you shove his shoulder playfully, “Stop!” 

Heeseung only laughs louder as he turns into McDonalds, ready to fill you up again– but with food this time. And it left you wondering if this friends with benefits deal would actually turn out to be more fun than you thought. 

Lee Heeseung dropped you off at your apartment with his black camaro and McDonald’s– which he bought for you. He didn’t drive off until he made sure you got in your apartment okay with a final wave from inside by you. 

From then on, things between you and Heeseung had become relatively normal. Instead of having underlying apprehensions with one another– you were honest and open. Something that was probably important to be considering how many times you two have had sex. 

Everytime you guys hooked up, you became somewhat closer and closer. It was always unspoken between you two about how you had started to form some sort of secret friendship. But, it was probably unavoidable from how often you guys fucked. Every weekend without fail you would meet up. Whether it was at his frat house, him sneaking into your apartment after your roommates had gone to bed, or you showing up in his bedroom after leaving another party, telling your friends that you were tired and wanted to go home. In between classes, studying– you had become quite familiar with the back of Heeseung’s car. 

But, little by little, you two would talk and joke after you were done having sex. Whether it was about some party or gossip, or just some stupid thing that happened in one of your classes. McDonald’s runs were becoming an after sex must. You had formed a friendship with Lee Heeseung, the notorious frat president that you always wanted to avoid. 

Dayeon and Shana hadn’t picked up on anything related to you and Heeseung and your fwb deal. In a way you were relieved that they didn’t know, so you could keep something away from their prying eyes and questions. 

Though, a few days after the first time you had sex with Heeseung in his car, the three of you were sitting in the library at lunch to study. Some girls a few tables over were having their own conversation that the three of you couldn’t help but overhear. 

“Did you hear that Heeseung was fucking some girl in his car the other day?” the one girl asked her group. 

You suddenly gulped as she speaks the words. Dayeon and Shana only glancing at eachother with annoyed expressions about having to hear about another Lee Heeseung hook up. 

“What, really?” the second girl asked her friend. 

“Uh, yeah. Right as everyone was trying to leave to go home.” 

“What? Who has car sex during after school rush?” 

You could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you could only hope to God that your friends in front of you didn’t notice. 

“Mina, Lee Heeseung will have sex anywhere, anytime with anyone, not that surprising.” Another girl says with a roll of her eyes. Great, you really did sound like just another Lee Heeseung whore. 

“Yeah, but apparently the girl was like screaming, like it felt that good.”

You felt sick suddenly, knowing that everyone has been talking about you moaning and screaming over Lee Heeseung’s stupid frat dick. 

“God, I wish Lee Heeseung could fuck me like that, that girl is so lucky.” 

“I wish anyone would fuck me like that, all the sex I’ve had has been so boring.” 

You stand up abruptly, Shana and Dayeon looked at you confused. 

“What’re you doing Y/n?” Dayeon asked. 

You started to pile your things into your backpack, just needing to get out of that library. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Shana asksed, concerned at your actions.

“I just, I need to go, I- forgot I had to meet up with people to work on a project.” 

“Oh, okay,” Shana pouts at you as you push in your chair. You left the library without a goodbye, praying that your friends would not find out about you and Heeseung. 

Now, you went from fucking Heeseung at least three times a week- to not having fucked him in almost three weeks. Every time he has texted you, something had come up that he had to cancel. The first few times you had texted to meet up, he’d say he was busy and that he was sorry. But now, your last few texts have gone unreplied. You haven’t even see him at school, and if you did, it was only for a brief second as you walked past each other in the hall. 

Something was up with him, but you knew there would be no point in asking him. And honestly, you were annoyed. He could have at least answered your texts, or given you some sort of explanation. Because honestly, you had gotten used to having sex mulitple times a week. He had raised your sex drive so much, constantly thinking about when and where you would fuck next. And now– nothing. He’s left you high and fucking dry. 

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing from a call from Dayeon. You don’t hesitate to pick up as you roll over onto your back onto your bed. 

“Hello?” you speak into the line. You’re instantly greeted with loud, house party music. 

“Y/n! You have to come to this party tonight I told you! It’s so fun, dude! Please!” Dayeon begs into the phone. You sigh at your drunk friend’s offer. She had told you about it earlier but you had declined. You didn’t feel like partying anymore, not with Lee Heeseung ignoring you, and not with people thinking you’re some sort of prude that doesn’t deserve to be friends with Shana and Dayeon. 

“I don’t think so, D. I’m not feeling it tonight, I will next time.” you tell her no again. 

“Boo!” Dayeon answers back. 

Suddenly Shana’s voice can be heard, “Y/n please! Even though it’s Enha Tau’s party it’s still fun! Come see us, please!” You can hear your pretty friends pout in her words. 

Realizing that it’s Enha Tau’s party leaves a knot in your stomach. 

“C’mon Y/n! I haven’t even seen any of the annoying frat boys!” Dayeon tries to persuade you. 

Shana’s voice is further and muffled, “Didn’t we see Heeseung earlier?” 

Hearing his name makes the knot even tighter. 

“Guys, I’m not coming tonight I’m sorry. I’ll see you guys when you come home later. Have fun!” you feign cheerfulness to your friends, and sigh when you’re met with both of them booing at you before you hang up. 

You open your texts with Heeseung. The message you had sent him four hours ago hasn’t even been read this time. Yet, he was at a party where he knows your friends are. You felt hurt bubble up inside you and you don’t understand why. You know you and Heeseung aren’t dating, and that he likes to fuck around with girls. But not even getting a message from him bothers you. 

You just figure he’s moved on to the next girl. 

Abruptly, there’s a knock on your front door. You sigh but get up to open it. 

You’re surprised to see Sung Hanbin standing there, a big smile on his face once he sees you. 

“Oh, uh, hi Hanbin.” 

“Hi, Y/n,” he greets you, “Is Dayeon home?” 

You shake your head, “No, she’s at a party at Enha Tau’s. Why?” 

Hanbin’s expression dropped a bit, “Oh, it’s just she borrowed my textbook, but I need it back now to study for a test I have on Monday.” 

“Oh, okay. Come in and I’ll get it for you.” You open the door wider for him to come in. He thanks you and tells you what textbook it is. You leave and thankfully find it sitting right ontop of Dayeon’s desk, snatching it up to give back to Hanbin. “Here you go.” 

“Great, thanks Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you– he really does have a nice smile you think. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he actually was up close. Your conversation with Shana and Dayeon from weeks ago being remembered in your head as you take in his features. HIs polite emeanor and earnestness really add to this handsome charm he has. “I’ll see you at school.” 

“You know,” you begin, stopping Hanbin from opening the front door, “I have nothing else to do tonight, and it is Friday, so, would you want to stay and watch a movie or something? Dayeon and Shana won’t be back for a while, so…” 

Hanbin’s eyes lit up with a surprised but pleasant expression, “Uh sure, that’d be fun.” 

“Really? Great! Let’s go to my room,” you nod behind you. Hanbin leaves his textbook on the table and follows you with his bright smile. 

Both of you settled down onto your bed, easily picking a movie that both of you would enjoy. You sit side by side, your legs stretched out in front of you both, your shoulders almost touching. In the dim light of your room, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts race about Sung Hanbin, he was right beside you. 

“So,” you start, taking his focus off of the movie, “Dayeon told me you asked her about me.” 

Hanbin kept the warm smile on his lips when he answered, “Well, I think you’re cute.” 

“What?” you replied in a shocked tone. 

Hanbin chuckled at you, “I always see you around, and I’ve thought you were pretty for a while now” 

You feel your heart skip for a second out of shock, and for a moment your mind flashed back to when Heeseung had called you pretty in his car. But you quickly push that memory aside to focus on the present reality. Heeseung was with someone else, and Sung Hanbin was in your bed calling you pretty. 

“Really?” you asked with curiosity. 

Hanbin nodded and leaned in a little closer to you, “Yeah, of course,”. 

In that moment, you decide to follow your instinct. Your worries about Heeseung and everything else surrounding him were pushed to the back of your mind as you lean in and press your lips to Hanbin’s. He’s quick to kiss you back, melting into each other as you sync up your movements. 

“Can I make you feel good, Y/n?” Hanbin pulls away and whispers. With your nod of consent he continues to kiss you. He gently pushes you down onto your back on your bed so he’s ontop of you. He continues press his tongue against your lip, asking for entrance. When you allow him, your tongues mesh together, tasting each other. 

“Want you Hanbin,” you moan against his lips, thrusting your hips up against his. He smiles gently at you like always, pressing a kiss to the top of your nose before he lets his hands start to unbutton your jeans. He so easily slips his fingers to inbetween your panties. You can tell you aren’t as wet as you usually are with Heeseung, but you don’t voice that thought. 

Instead, Hanbin brings his fingers to your lips, “Taste yourself, Y/n,” you suck his fingers into your mouth, making sure to coat them with all the saliva you could manage. When Hanbin is satisfied he slips his fingers back into your panties, mixing your spit with your juices. 

You mewl out to him when he dances across your clit, teasing you. When he probs two of his fingers inside of your hole you can instantly tell it would be nothing like when Heeseung fingers you. Hanbin has to take a few thrusts to find your g spot. Brushing against it lightly as he curls his fingers upwards. 

You decided to lift your shirt up over your head as he fingered you, discarding it somewhere on your bedroom floor. Hanbin’s eyes widened at your action, his eyes staring at your bare chest. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Hanbin compliments you before he lets his mouth start to suck on your chest. You revel in his compliment as he starts to swivel his tongue around your nipple. You could feel his biting, and then his warm tongue soothing over the skin. 

“Please, Hanbin, want you cock,” you whine out to him, just wanting to feel him more. 

“Okay, baby,” he presses a final kiss to your chest before he slips his hand out of your panties. Both of you work to remove your pants. His hard cock is protruding and the tip is red. “Do you have a condom?” 

You nod as you reach over to your bedside table, grabbing one that he easily slips on. You spread your legs to allow him to move inbetween them. With no more hesitation, Hanbin teased you by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, soaking the condom with your juices and spit. You mewl when his tip circles your clit. 

“Ready?” Hanbin asks you, his eyes staying on yours as you nod. 

Hanbin starts to slowly sink into your pussy, inch by inch. The strech was different, and it felt good. Everything about hooking up with Hanbin was already so different from what you were used to. You told yourself that it would be good to experience more without Heeseung, even though he seemed to constantly be on your mind during this moment. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Hanbin breathes out once his dick is all the way inside of you. He thrusts his cock back out again slowly, wanting to feel every inch of your wall.

“You feel good, too.” you tell him, your hand gripping onto his upper arms as he finds his pace to fuck into you. He goes slow, but hard– so different from how Heeseung fucks you. He rolls his hips inside of you, your body jutting upwards with every hard thrust of his. 

You were physically so close to him, but yet you felt so far. You lay under him, watching him as he grunts and furrows his eyebrows as he fucks into you. You know you should be focusing on him, on the way he’s trying to make you feel– because it’s Sung Hanbin, and anyone would be lucky to be this close to Sung Hanbin. 

Hanbin leans down and kisses your lips before leaving his head into the crook of your neck. You can hear and feel each other’s breaths as he fucks you. He presses kisses into your neck while he grunts out your name. You know that if you weren’t so caught up with Heeseung in this very moment, you would be at least somewhat close to an orgasm. Because there was nothing wrong with Hanbin. No, everything he has done has been right and polite. But you’re just so caught up in the waves of Lee Heeseung. 

“Baby, I’m almost there,” Hanbin grunts out to you, his grip on your hips tightening. With his words you reach down and start rubbing your clit in fast circles, already feeling even more pleasure with Hanbin deep inside of you. He groans out when he feels your walls tighten around him, squeezing him and prompting him to go closer to his orgasm. 

“Want you to cum, Hanbin, please,” you whine out to him, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier as your fingers go faster and faster on your clit. 

“Fuck, okay baby, okay,” his voice is breathless when he responds. 

Hanbin thrusts a few more times before you feel him release into the condom. The feeling of his hard cock twitching inside of you finally pushes you over the edge as well. Both of you moaning the others name as you cum. Your walls are clasping around Hanbin’s dick, shoved still inside of you as he releases into the condom. 

Hanbin’s grip on you didn’t loosen as he leant down and kissed you. It was passionate and gentle– different from how you and Heeseung have ever kissed. Your bodies were sweaty where they met, but Hanbin didn’t seem to mind as he stayed inside of you. You madeout as you both calmed down from your orgasms. 

Hanbin started to gently pull out of you, sliding his condom off and throwing it in the garbage bin. 

“Stay there,” he tells you before he’s sliding his pants back on and leaving your room. He comes back a minute later with a wet wash cloth he must have found in your bathroom. Before you can ask, he’s asking you to spread legs so he can help clean you up. 

You don’t say anything but do as he says, you can’t take your eyes off of him as he oh, so gently wipes up all the spit and fluids. When he’s done, he gently smiles at you and hands you your sweatpants and throws the wash cloth into your laundry bin. 

Hanbin makes sure you’re okay and you walk him to your front door. 

“I had fun, Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you. 

His smile is contagious and you can’t help but smile back at him, “Yeah, me too.” 

“I hope to see you again, then.” Hanbin suggests, biting his lip. 

“You will,” 

Hanbin smiles once more at you before he leans down and presses a kiss onto your forehead. You say your final goodbyes and close the door after him. It’s only then that you feel like you can breathe properly again. Nothing felt like it went right tonight, but it did. 

Hanbin was everything you should want in a man. He is kind, and gentle and caring. He looked after you and made sure you were okay. Hanbin did absolutely nothing wrong. Yet, you feel like something is. And you know exactly what it is. 

Suddenly, you can’t help but let a sob out. Your hand covering your mouth to silence yourself even though Dayeon and Shana aren’t home. Tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even truly understand why. You felt so torn and disconnected with everything. 

You lay in your bed with racing thoughts, ready to sleep the rest of this night away. You wiped your tears away as you couldn’t hellp but wish that you spend tonight with Heeseung instead. The guilt overtook you as you realized what the thought must truly mean for yourself. You felt lost with who yourself and wondered what would have happened if you made another choice tonight. Would you still be filled with regret and an inexplicable longing that left you feeling so sunken?

On Monday, you found it hard to concentrate in your classes. Dayeon and Shana could tell something was bothering you all weekend, but you refused to tell them anything. You were trying to get over the weird feelings you were having. Because deep down you knew that there was never going to be any romantic feelings between you and Heeseung. You had just gotten too use to sex with him that hooking up with Hanbin had left you feeling confused. But still, something bothered you in the back of your mind. 

You knew you were still conflicted about everything. But chose to ignore one side of the inner argument. YO had to, for the better. Because there was no way that you would become another girl that got hurt by Lee Heeseung. So, you needed to suck up your confused emotions and come back to reality. Lee Heeseung was a notorious frat fuck boy– the type of boy that you always wanted to avoid. But now, it was too late for that, and you had to deal with that. 

Dayeon had given Hanbin your phone number and he had texted you this weekend, but you hadn’t had the guts to text him back. You felt guilty because you knew how sweet Hanbin was, but you didn’t want to continue to talk to him when you were already this internally confused. 

Dayeon and Shana encouraged you to text Hanbin back. They knew that Hanbin would be good for you, they knew he would treat you right. And you did too. It’s just, is that what you really wanted, or what you should want? 

Just as you started contemplating whether or not to continue whatever arrangement you had with Heeseung, your phone vibrated in your pocket. Thankful for another distraction from your current class, you pull out your phone. 

Heeseung (best dick evr)  do u wanna come over after ur class? 

You felt yourself gulp as you read his text. This was the first text back from him in a week. You hesitated as you re-read his text over and over, ignoring your professors words as they went over the lecture slides. There was uncertainty gnawing you, but eventually, you found yourself texting a reply. 

you  sure

When you arrive at the Enha Tau house, you were almost scared from how quiet and unusual it was. It was a weekday, and there was no sign of the usual raucous party atmosphere that usually took over the entire street. The house was eerily silent as you knocked on the door. You figured all the other frat boys were out, either at their own classes or college clubs. 

When Heeseung opened the door, you saw him properly for the first time in weeks. You felt your heart clench at the thought. He looked undeniably good, his appearance exuding an alluring charm like usual. He was more reserved than usual thought. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he stepped aside to let you in. You couldn’t hellp but admire his facial features as you walked past him. The room seemed charged with unspoken tension and you couldn’t help but wonder how the dynamics between you have evolved during your time apart. 

Stepping into Heeseung’s room, you notice how it looked cleaner than all the other times you’d been there. The clothes were folded and put away, and all the chaos that surrounded his desk and closet had been somewhat tamed. 

Heeseung, now sitting on his bed as you walked around and looked at the pictures of his friends and family you could actually see now that his room was cleaner. You tried to ignore the sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. You could both sense that something had changed during their time apart, and you were treading cautiously around it. It was a strange mix of familiarity and uncertainty. 

“So,” You start when you lean against his desk, “how’ve you been?” 

Heeseung sighs, “Good. I thought I would’ve seen you at the party on Friday.” 

You shrug, “Nah,”

“Why not? Doesn’t seem like you to want to miss a party, especially if your friends are there.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of Shana and Dayeon, “Just didn’t feel it.” 

Heeseung sighs and brushes his bangs back out of his face. He completely knows that the reason why it’s awkward is because of him. “Sorry I didn’t text you back, I had some shit to deal with.” 

It was true. He did have some shit to deal with. Some family financial things that he must always take care of because his parents can’t. It’s the same shit that he never tells anyone and he mentally groans when he knows you’re about to ask him. 

You perk up at the beginning of his apology, “What type of shit?” 

“Stupid shit.” Heeseung is quick to reply. He can obviously tell you don’t like his answer by the way you sigh and move to sit beside him on his bed, both of your feet are on the floor as you sit side by side. 

“What type of stupid shit?” 

“Don’t worry about it shit. It’s done.” 

You look away from him when he responds, not saying anything else because you know that that’s all he’s going to give you. Heeseung hates the way your expression looks right now. Hates that he always sees that face on everyone he’s ever closed to. Hates that it’s on your face right now because of him. 

“Y/n, look,” Heeseung puts his hand on your thigh, making you look up at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I saw your texts and I know I should’ve, but I just couldn’t. I was busy and stressed with this shit that came up and I didn’t even know what to do. So I’m sorry.” You nod at his words, a small pout still on your lips that he wishes he could kiss away, “And I’m not good with, opening up, or whatever. So, I’m fine now, don’t worry about it.” 

You sigh again but, can tell that he’s being genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed as he explains to you why he hasn’t answered the best he could. And finally, “It’s okay, Hee. I get it.” 

Heeseung smiles at your answer, taking his hand off your thigh and settling back onto his bed against his headboard, “Good, because I missed you.” 

You smirk playfully at him, “Me or my pussy?” 

“Hm,” Heeseung pretends to think, “Both.” You roll your eyes at his answer, “C’mere.” 

You smile at him as you crawl over his bed so you’re perched ontop of him. Your knees on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Both of your arms find each other almost instinctively at this point. His arms wrap around your waist and yours wrap around his shoulders, locking the other one in. 

“Did Y/n miss her daddy?” Heeseung looks up at you. You nod, almost shyly when you hear the name. Heeseung smiles before he leans down to press kisses along your neck, finding all the sweet spots he knows so well. You already whimper at his touch, craving it for so long. You feel him smirk into your skin but you could care less if he finds you being needy so amusing. 

You start grinding his hips down onto his, needing to relieve some pressure already. His hands help guide you over his crotch as you do so. 

“Fuck, baby– Daddy missed your body so much.” Heeseung groans out as he looks down to where your so needily dry humping him. 

“Missed yours too, daddy.” you whine out to him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as you focused on grinding your hips downwards. You feel Heeseung kissing all over your neck. His hands moving under your shirt to lift it up. His hands cup your breasts so nicely, like they perfectly in his hands. 

“What the fuck?” 

You open your eyes and look at Heeseung. His face contorted into a look of confusion. You look down to your chest where he is staring– catching sight and instantly remembering of the hickey’s Hanbin had left on your chest and tits. Your eyes widen when you glance at the purple and blue marks, some of them yellowing from healing. 

“What is that?” Heeseung asks you, his facial expression not changing. 

“Uh, hickeys.” 

“From who?” 

You feel your heart beat pick up in your chest, “Hanbin.” Your voice comes out weak. 

“Sung Hanbin?” 

You can’t find yourself to confirm, but Heeseung takes your lack of response as the answer. You watch as his face changes from confusion to disgust. He moves your right leg off of him so he can swing his legs over his bed. His back is towards you when he asks, “When?” 

“Friday night.” 

You watch as Heeseung turns his head away in disbelief and mumbles, “Oh my god.” as he stands up. 

“Hee,” you start but stop when he leans down abruptly over his desk, his head hanging. “What?” He ignores you, keeping his back and face away from you as he shakes his head. You can tell he’s pissed at you just from his body language. “What?” 

Heeseung turns, an annoyed, angry expression on his face, “Just, Sung Hanbin. Really?” his voice is mean and condescending when it comes out. 

You scoff and move so you’re sitting up straight on his bed instead of kneeling, “What’s wrong with that? Why can’t I hook up with other people?” 

Heeseung sighs, his fingers squeezing the spot between his eyebrows. His voice is lower now, “You can. It’s just, you had to fuck him? Of all people really, him?” 

“Why do you care who I hook up with?” your voice raising as you speak. You can’t help but think how uncanny it is. Lee Heeseung of all people, judging you for hooking up with someone. 

Heeseung lets out a frustrated grunt as he turns back around to not see you. He doesn’t answer, but you can see that he’s trying to calm himself down. You had no idea he’d get this mad about it. 

When it’s silent in his bedroom for a few moments you speak again, “Heeseung,” your voice is calmer and softer when you ask, “Are you mad because I hooked up with Hanbin, or that I hooked up with someone else at all?” 

You hear Heeseung breathe a heavy breath before he answers, “Both.” 

You breathe in a heavy inhale, taking in his answer. “Heeseung, if you’ve been hooking up with everyone else, then why can’t I?” 

Heeseung turns at your words, his face back to confused, “Well, I haven’t been hooking up with anyone else,” you can tell you look taken aback at his answer, “Only you.” 

Heeseung looks away from you but his body stays facing you, you can tell he’s struggling to look at you. The room goes silent again, but it’s full of anger. 

“What do you want me to do then? Leave?” you stand up before he can answer, heading straight to his bedroom door. 

“No,” a hand grabbing your forearm stops you, you turn to look at him, his arm stretched out to grab you, “Stay.” 

You turn to face him, his hand stays on your forearm, holding you like you’d run away if he let go. Like he’s scared that that would happen. You tilt your head to the side when he doesn’t say anything. The room is thick as you two stare at each other, each trying to figure out what to say or do. 

Heeseung finally lets your forearm go and he leans back on his desk, “Did- did you use a condom when you fucked Hanbin?” 

You close your eyes at his vulgar words but reply, “Yes.” 

Heeseung sighs once more, “Then let’s update our deal,” he steps forward again so he’s an inch away from you, “I can only fuck you, and you can only fuck me.” 

He’s serious with his words, and sticks out his hand for you to shake, “Deal?” 

You think for a second, staring at his outward hand in front of you, but ultimately nod, “Deal.” Your hands meet in a shake, once again securing some weird arrangement with the frat boy you once wanted to avoid. 

With the hand he’s holding onto, he suddenly pulls you forward, your face landing in his chest, “Now will you let me fuck you?” You nod up at him, wanting to feel him so bad. 

His hand meets your lower cheek, a light warning, “Use your words. Beg,” 

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me, daddy. I’ve wanted it for so long,” you instantly whine out to him, the truth spilling out in your words. 

Heeseung smirks down at you, before he’s pushing you over onto his bed on your back. He doesn’t hesitate to climb on top of you, his hand going straight for your neck and squeezing. Your mouth drops open as he chokes you, “Gonna let daddy ruin your pussy?” 

“Please,” you speak out to him. He leans down and harshly presses his lips onto yours. You kiss him back, his hand still enclosed on your neck as you makeout with him. Taking in his taste and lips that you had missed feeling so much. 

When he pulls away completely he commands, “Take your clothes off,” 

You hurriedly do as he says, standing up and pulling off your clothes, dropping them onto his floor. He leans back on his bed and watches you, taking in your body that he knows so well. Your body that he loves. You stand in front of him naked, letting him soak in your body.

When he meets your eyes he says “On your back, spread your legs.” 

You lay on your back, letting him kneel in between your legs. His eyes circle around the bruises Hanbin had left. You can see the anger form in his eyes as he looks around the purple marks. 

“Did Hanbin fuck you good? Did he fuck you as good as I do?” 

“No, daddy. No,” you shake your head instantly. 

Heeseung reaches forward and traces the bruises on your chest, “You sure? Looks like he had fun.” 

“Yes, daddy. I thought about you the entire time,” you speak honestly, knowing you’ll probably regret it tomorrow. 

Heeseung smirks at your answer, “Really? Don’t think I need to show you who’s pussy this belongs to?” 

You gulp at his words, “Show me, daddy.” 

Heeseung quirks his eyebrow up before he slips his middle finger right into your pussy. You gasp out at the intrusion, his finger going right at your g spot. His thumb starts slow circles on your clit at the same time. “Fuck, did Hanbin get you this wet?” 

You moan out as he starts to push his middle finger in and out of you. “God, why do you hate Hanbin so much.” 

Heeseung grunts at your question and starts pounding two of his fingers inside of you, stretching you open so easily from your walls being so wet. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hand flying to grip onto his sheets from how hard and fast he had his fingers fucking into you. 

“He fucked my girlfriend,” Heeseung states. 

“What?” you lift your head, trying to refocus on his words despite your pussy clamping helplessly around his fingers. 

“He fucked my girlfriend and then dated her right after.” 

You tried to take in his words, thinking about Hanbin taking Heeseung’s apparent girlfriend. But the only girl you knew that dated Hanbin was, “Choi Yerim!” Heeseung rolls his eyes at her name. “You dated Yerim?” your question comes out in a high pitch whine as Heeseung’s pace didn’t let up. 

“For like a week before she cheated on me with Hanbin,” Heeseung explains like his fingers were curling up inside of you, massaging your g spot before pulling out and forcing his fingers back in again. 

“Oh shit,” you moan out, “I-I’m sorry.” 

Heeseung scoffs, “Don’t worry about it and cum.” 

You nod against his pillow, grunts and moans escaping your lips as his thumb keeps rubbing circles on your clit, “Fuck! Fuck!” 

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s fingers.” 

His words are the final push that send you over the edge of your first orgasm. You squeal and cry out his name as his fingers fuck you through it. You’ve needed this so bad. Needed Heeseung, needed his fingers, his words. 

He takes his fingers out of you, his tongue starts to lap around them, sucking up your juices. 

“Fuck, I missed your taste.” Heeseung leans over you, “Did you let Hanbin taste you, too, whore?” 

“No, daddy,” you shake your head. 

“No?” Heeseung mocks you, “You’re not the little whore I think you are?” You bite your lip and repeat yourself, desparate. “Who’s whore are you?” 

“Yours, daddy. Just yours.” 

Satisfied with your answer, Heeseung leans down so his mouth is level with your sopping pussy. He doesn’t wait a second before he’s delving his mouth onto your core. His lips sucking every part of you. A gasp leaves your mouth when he starts to get just the right rhythm. 

Heeseung is ravenous in your pussy. He’s always liked eating out girls, especially you. He loves the way you jut your hips forward and grind your pussy down onto his mouth, always needing more. You could just never get enough of him and it drove him crazy. 

Tonight, Heeseung is even crazier as he eats you. His whole head and neck moving to lick every single part of you. Alternating from fucking your hole with his tongue, to circling your clit. He loves to bite down gently on your clit, loving the way you squeal out and tell him to not stop. 

Your hands tangle in his black hair, tugging on it to try to gound yourself from how high you felt on pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat, trying to close your legs around Heeseung’s head, the pleasure increasing and increasing. But, Heeseung stays inbetween your legs, his tongue delved deep inside of you. “I- I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum, whore, do it– let me see how much of a whore you really are.” Heeseung encourages you before he tongue fucks you again, nose pressed into your clit. 

“Oh, god, oh-,” you cry out, “Fuck!” you scream as you feel your orgasm hit. You feel wet drops land all on your inner thighs as your body goes almost numb from the pleasure. Your breathing is erratic as you let the pleasure consume your whole body. 

“Fuck, baby,” Heeseung groans out, his entire lower half of his face and collar of his shirt is soaked. “That was so fucking hot,” you open your eyes finally once the pleasure dies down, you take in Heeseung’s appearance and realize that you must have squirted again. Heeseung moves so you’re face to face, “You okay?” 

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, just, waited a while for this.” 

Heeseung feels his heart clench at your words but doesn’t let it show, “Roll over,” 

Heeseung helps you onto your stomach, your ass up in the air for him. You hear him stand and undress himself quickly, almost as eager as you are. You watch as he opens his drawer and grabs a condom to slide on. He pumps his cock as he gets on the bed on his knees, gripping your ass as he gets behind you. 

“Gonna show you who’s messy pussy this is, huh baby?” Heeseung grunts as he starts to slide his thick length up and down your slit. 

“Yes, daddy, please,” you respond so obediently to him. 

Heeseung finally starts to push his hard cock into you, so, so slowly. It makes you whine out as he seemingly takes all the time in the world to fill you up. Once inside, both of his hands land on your ass cheeks, making you cry out. 

He slaps your one ass cheek once more, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking messy, baby.” 

“Just, just for you, daddy.” 

“Yeah? No one else?” Heeseung leans over so his chest is right against your back. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl,” he praises before he’s leaning back up and moving his hips backwards, sliding his cock right out of you until just the tip is inside of you still, and he slams it back inside of you. He continues fucking into you like that until his pace has picked up feverishly. He’s fucking into you so roughly that your entire body is moving upwards on the bed, your hands holding onto the headboard to make sure you’re not rammed into it. 

“Yes! Just like that daddy, please!” 

“Just like this? The whore likes it when I, god, I fuck her hard and rough?” Heeseung questions, his grip on your waist tightening as he only moves his hips back and forth. 

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” 

Your face was smashed into the mattress as you let Heeseung fuck your pussy. If it wasn’t for Heeseung holdin gyour hips up then your whole body would flat against the mattress. He was fucking you until you were useless. Allowing him to use you and fuck you so good. 

“Did Hanbin fuck you this good? Get you to cum so good?” Heeseung grunts out, his voice becoming as breathless as you were. When you didn’t answer you earned another harsh slap on your ass, “Answer whore or I stop.” 

“No!” you instantly cry out, “No!” 

You spread your thighs farther apart, letting Heeseung have more room. You keep moaning at the sensation of his cock gliding so easily against your walls. His cock has never felt so hard and full before. It fills you up perfectly. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Heeseung groans out, slapping your ass again, loving the way you tighten even more every time he does. “You gonna cum?” 

You can only mumble a short yes as you feel the coil already starting to snap in your stomach. Heeseung wraps his arm around your abdomen so his fingers can rub at your clit sloppily. It was the final action that caused you to cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the wave of your orgasm took over your body completely. You had truly hit oblivion because of Lee Heeseung’s cock. 

Heeseung’s pulls his cock out of you, and quickly pulls off the condom before he starts jerking his cock at a fast pace. The juices from your pussy on his fingers spreads over his cock evenly. “C’mere, baby– wanna cum on your face.” 

You numbly roll over onto your back, letting Heeseung kneel closer to your face. You could hear and see your juices squelch on his cock from how fast he was jerking his cock. 

“Please cum, daddy, wanna taste your cum so bad,” you speak up to him, fucked out. 

Finally, Heeseung cums, “Fuck, fuck Y/n,”. Not a second later that you feel warm droplets of his cum hit your face. They land on your cheeks, lips and nose. He lets out a final groan before he drops to sit down on the bed beside you. He watches as you lick away his cum that landed on your lips before her scoops up the remaining on your cheeks and nose, “Open,” you do as your told and let him stick his cum covered fingers into your mouth. He feels you hum around them at the taste of his cum and the remnants of yourself. “Good girl,” 

When he pulls out his fingers he leans down to press a kiss onto your lips before he lays down beside you, finally able to try catching his breath. His room is silent besides your heavy breaths. 

Heeseung glances over at you after a few moments, taking in your tired, naked body. He watches the few sweat droplets train down your neck and hairline. Your messy hair is sprawled around his pillow with your lips swollen. Your ass is red from his slaps and he’s sure your pussy is just as red and puffy. He thinks that he should get up to get you a towel or something, but you’re already getting up, reaching for your clothes. 

You don’t care what your hair or makeup looks like as you dress, reality finally sinking in about what deal you’ve made with Heeseung. How you can only fuck each other. You never would have thought that Lee Heeseung could stick to only fucking one girl, so how the hell would he want only fuck you? 

“You going?” Heeseung asks you lazily from his laying position on his bed, his bare chest not covered by the sheet that covers his lower half. 

“Yeah, I gotta finish a paper that’s due tomorrow,” you lie so easily to him. Heeseung doesn’t respond as he watches you put your shoes back on and head for his bedroom door, but you hear him shuffle around on his bed. When you turn back to him, holding the door halfway open before you leave, his back is facing you as he rolled over onto his side, “Oh and Heeseung?” 

“Yeah?” he mumbles to you, fatigue evident in his voice. 

“I’m sorry I hooked up with Hanbin.” you tell honestly now. 

It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if he fell asleep before, “It’s fine– don’t worry about it.” 

Heeseung hears you sigh and then leave his room, closing the door behind you. 

He feels weird now that you’ve left. It’s become a routine for you two that after you fuck, you get food or talk or just lounge around whatever place you’ve just fucked in. He thinks maybe it’s because he’s usually the one to leave so quick after hooking up with someone. It saves him some awkwardness and closes any option for a conversation. But, that was before he started hooking up with you. 

With you, it’s different. He likes talking to you, hanging out with you, hearing whatever stupid story you just have to tell him. He doesn’t know why it’s different, just that it’s with you. You stand up to him and challenge him. You’re not clingy or looking for a relationship. You understand that that is something he could never give you. And it tugs at his heart a little in a way he absolutely hates. Because Heeseung hates relationships and feelings and everything that comes along with them. 

And he hates that he’s thought about what it would be like to be in a relationship with you. The past weeks have been hell for him because of his family, but when he would finally get some piece and quiet, all he would think about was you. Everytime he got a message from you it would clench his heart a little. But, he’s just too fucked up and he doesn’t want you to have to deal with all of his fucked up problems, too. 

Heeseung feels selfish a bit, telling you that he’s the only one that you can fuck. But, a deal is a deal, even if that means him being a little possessive over you. Because he knows that your little deal is the only thing he will truly ever have with just you, and nothing more. Because he’s Lee Heeseung, who doesn’t do relationship, and you’re Y/n, who doesn’t even want to be seen with him in public. 

As Heeseung contemplates the complex tide of his and yours secret arrangement, he couldn’t help but feel a longing for you, wishing that you stayed in his room with him, just a bit longer. 

After you and Heeseung had updated your deal, things seemed to go back to normal, at least the sex was. You would always text each other about when and where you needed the other. There was a comfortable rhythm, a balance almost. You would fuck, leave, text when your horny and repeat. 

Until one day when you had just finished hooking up in his car outside some stupid party you both were bored at. You were reaching for the car door when Heeseung asked if you wanted to get food or something, stay a little longer. You paused with your hand on the door knob and looked at him. 

“That’s not a part of our deal, is it, Hee?” you ask him with a knowing smirk. 

“Well, no, but I’m hungry,” 

You bit your lip as you contemplated his words, reaching your hand out to tangle your fingers in his hair, “I can’t, Shana and Dayeon are still inside, I’ll see you at school though, right?” 

Heeseung kept his masked smirk on his face at yours words, “Right,” 

“Enjoy McDonald’s for me.” You shove his shoulder before you get out of his camaro and head back inside to find your friends. 

Both of you let out a breath at the same time unknowingly. There was tension growing between you and neither one of you wanted to mention it. It would be better if it was ignored at all cost. Both of you had your reasons and it would just complicate things if it was brought up. But still, both of your hearts ached as you waved bye to Heeseung from the front porch as he drove away. 

After, you started to notice that Heeseung was texting you to meet up more often. You thought he just needed to destress at first, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to fuck half the time you showed up. 

“You’re becoming clingy,” you tell him as you kiss down his neck as you were currently straddling his lap on your bed. 

“No, I’m not,” he replies instantly, feeling you smile into his skin. 

You sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you look at him, “You are,” you keep the smile on your face. 

“No, I’m not, I’m just horny, so why don’t you suck my dick like the good girl I know you are?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but move down to be inbetween his legs, ready to make him cum for the one millionth time. 

After you told him you think he’s becoming clingy, his hook up texts slowed down, which only made you crave him more. Especially since it was mid term season and all you had time to do was study. No parties, no fun, no Heeseung hookups. 

One night, Shana and Dayeon were tired from studying and headed out to some party that they had begged you go to with them. With your refusal, they left without you so you could study for the rest of the night in peace. 

It was well past midnight when you heard your phone vibrate from somewhere under all your papers and textbooks. 

Heeseung (best dick evr)  are u awake? 

You  yeah

Heeseung (best dick evr)  ok good bc i’m outside

Shocked, you quickly threw on a hoodie over your tank top and headed to your apartment door. 

As you opened the door, sure enough, Heeseung was there. And he was drunk. You could tell just from looking at him, and when he walked past you into your apartment he’s been in so many times, you could smell it. 

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?” you asked him concerningly. 

“What? I came to see you,” he replies with a subtle, slurred speech. 

“Okay… but we are not fucking with you in a state like this,” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come to fuck you, I just wanted to see you.” 

His explanation hangs in the air before you sigh, “Okay, come to bed, Heeseung.” 

He so easily flops down onto your bed, giggling drunkenly to himself as he bounces upwards on the mattress. He watches as you quickly try to fix your hair in the mirror by your door. 

“C’mere pretty girl,” Heeseung reaches his arm out to try to reach you from across the room. 

You scoff at his words, “Oh god, now you’re complimenting me?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“You never do that,” 

Heeseung looks taken aback at your words, “What? I do all the time.”

“Saying my pussy is so wet and tight does not count, Hee.” 

Heeseung laughs at your words but he can still tell that you’re serious, “Okay, well I compliment you in my head all the time,” 

“Yeah? Like what?” 

“Like,” Heeseung draws out the word, “how you’re so pretty, and funny, and responsible and how you have a fuckin’ smoking hot body.” 

You cover your face in your hands at his words, not believing how drunk he is in your bed right now. 

“Come here,” he whines out to you, and pats the spot next to him on your bed. 

“Fine,” you tell him and let him pull you into your bed. You lay down beside him like he instructs you to. So now both of you are laying side by side. Your bedroom lights are turned off, with just the moonlight and streetlamp coming in through your window. 

When your room goes silent again, Heeseung speaks up, “I do mean it though, those compliments.” 

“Hm, do you?” 

“Yeah, I do, because I like you– more than anyone.” 

You glance over at him, his hood from his sweater is on his head as he lays down, his eyes are closed as he speaks to you, mumbling something about when he keeps his eyes open he feels like the room is spinning. 

You don’t know how to respond to his words, trying to decipher what he means by them. 

“Don’t believe me?” Heeseung’s eyes open as he turns his head to look at you. 

“I don’t know what to believe.” You tell him earnestly. 

Heeseung sighs, “I do like you Y/n, but I’m just too, like messed up.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “What do you mean?” 

“Remember when we stopped talking a few weeks ago, because I said I had some shit to deal with?” With your nod, he continues, “Well it’s because my brother’s just gotten out of jail, and my parents are too drunk to help him. So I was helping him with money and to find a place to live and all that. He’s my best friend, so.” 

Your heart clenches at his confession, “What did your brother do, if I can ask?”

Heeseung waves his hand discardingly, “Took a the blame for my drunk parents crashing the car, nothing big.” 

“What? Heeseung that’s really big. Why would he do that?” your body turns to face him. 

Heeseung shrugs, “I don’t know, they’re drunks, but he’s always tried to help them– way more than I ever have. But he’s helped them, and now they aren’t even helping him. So I have to, because he’s my brother and he raised me.” 

You can’t help but reach your hand out to brush Heeseung’s bangs out of his face, “I’m sorry, Heeseung, that’s so tough. You’re so kind.” 

Heeseung shrugs, “I’m fine, it’s fine.” 

“Hee,” you call him, moving his chin so he looks at you, “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you can talk to me.” 

“Don’t say that to me.” 

“Why not?” 

“‘Cause it’ll just make me fall in love with you more.” 

Your heart raced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty as Heeseung’s words. It’s a drunk confession, and it leaves you with a torrent of emotions that are going to be difficult to untangle. 

Heeseung yawns then, rolling onto his side, “Night, Y/n.” 

“Night, Heeseung.” 

You try to sleep that night, but all you can think about is Heeseung’s words and how his warmth is radiating onto your back. It was the first time you had ever slept in the same bed together. You could smell his cologne, hear his light breaths, and feel everytime his hand shifted on your waist as he held you. You wondered if he’ll regret this in the morning. 

The morning sun crept through your curtain, casting a soft flow in the room as you and Heeseung woke up. Heeseung yawned before he realized how big of a headache he has. 

“Morning,” you tell him cautiously, remembering last night. 

“Morning,” Heeseung kept his hand on his head, the sunlight killing his head more. 

“Here,” you pass him the water and advil you kept on your nightstand. He gratefully took it, hoping it fixed his headache sooner rather than later. 

Heeseung glances down at both of your clothed bodies laying in your bed, “Did we?...” 

“No,” you shook your head, “You were so wasted.” 

Heeseung grins before plopping his head back against his pillow, “Yeah, sorry about that. The guys talkekd me into taking a break from studying and I guess I took too much of a break.” 

You crack a smile at his playfulness, “So you don’t remember much from last night?” 

Heeseung furrowed his brow as he tried to think, “Nah, I guess not a lot of it. I remember getting into an Uber and that’s it. Guess I can here.” He smiles cheekily at you. When he sees you don’t return his smile he asks, “Why? Did something happen?” 

You immediately shook your head, “No, nothing.” you forced a smile. Heeseung shrugged before pulling his hood over his eyes, complaining about your “shitty curtains”. 

As Heeseung left your apartment, quiet to not wake up your hungover roommates, you were left with a profound sense of not knowing what to believe or what to do. The revelation of Heeseung’s confession had messed you up. But the fact that he didn’t remember must about the event last night left you in a state of emotional limbo.

All you knew was that you could not fall in love with Lee Heeseung, no matter how tempting the general idea was. No, because falling in love with Lee Heeseung held consequences that you did not want to deal with. 

After the night Heeseung confessed to you and subsequently forgot about it, you avoided him at all costs. Whenever he would send you a text you would ignore it, your heart would arche with each unread message. If you spotted him in the hallays or around campus, you’d change your direction making a conscious effort to evade any interaction. 

Even the college parties that had once been a regular part of your social life were no longer an option. You knew that there was a high chance of running into Heeseung at one of them, and you couldn’t bear to face him under such circumstances. 

Your once thriving social and sex life had dwindled, replaced by a cloud of avoidance and self hatred as you grappled with the aftermath of his intoxicated confession. 

It didn’t take long for Shana and Dayeon to realize something was up with you, and this time, you told them everything. You told them about your not one, but two deals you’ve made with Lee Heeseung. How he had ignored your text messages because he had to deal with his family. How you hooked up with Hanbin. How Heeseung told you people think you’re a prude and shouldn’t be friends with them. And you told them how he had told you he loved you and had completely forgotten about it. 

You could tell that your friends were angry with you for keeping all of this from them for so long, for months, but most importantly they wanted to help you feel better. 

Dayeon spoke first, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry you felt like you had to kepe this from us, Y/n. But you don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Shana nodded in agreement, “Of course, we’re you’re friends, and we’re here for you.” 

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you realized the depth of their support. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed your friends until that moment. “Thank you guys,” you said, your voice weak, “I’ve just been, so confused.” 

Shana and Dayeon exchanged a knowing look before enveloping you into a tight group hug. “We’ll figure it out together,” Dayeon reassured you like always, “You’re not alone, no matter what’s going on with Heeseung or you.” 

You felt a warmth in your heart for the first time as you embraced your friends, grateful for their unwavering support during the most turbulent and confusing time in your life. 

You’ve felt better since you reconnected with Shana and Dayeon. It had brought you a sense of comfort and support. The weight that you had been carrying seemed a little lighter and you were grateful to have your frends by your side once again. 

When you went to meet up with them at lunch, you could tell from a distance that something was wrong. You could see it on their faces as you walked up the table. 

“Y/n, I have something to tell you,” Dayeon spoke when you sat down, eyes widened in a trouble expression. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked your friends. 

“Hanbin’s been going around telling people that he “fucked the college” prude.” 

You felt your heart sank at the news. “Me?” 

Both of them nodded at you with a disappointed look on their face, worried about you. You tried to calm yourself, feeling anger rise up inside of you that you hadn’t felt for months. You were tired of all the drama that came with frat boys and you wished you had listened to your gut and just avoided them all completely. 

You didn’t say anything as you stood, storming off to the side of the cafeteria where you knew Sung Hanbin and his frat usually ate lunch. And sure enough, they were there. A group of guys surrounding Hanbin as he told them some apparently funny story as they all laughed along with what he said.

“Hanbin,” you call out to him. The table going silent as they turn to see you. “I heard what you’ve been saying about me.” 

Hanbin looked taken aback as he glanced from you to his friends, “But it’s true though, no?” 

You roll your eyes, “Actually no, cause I am not a prude and the sex with you fucking sucked.” 

You notice how some of his friends have to cover their mouths to stifle their laughs, not being able to look at Hanbin as they did so. You could see the anger start to rise on Hanbin’s usually so-sweet face. 

“Whatever Y/n, it was just a joke anyways.” 

Your frustration boiled over, “A joke?” you snapped. “You know what Hanbin, Heeseung was right about you. You are a fucking asshole. So get off this little frat-boy-college-high-horse you seem to be on and come back to reality. Because maybe then you’d see how truly pathetic you are.” 

The weight of your words hung heavy in the cafeteria, everyone silent as you stand up to Hanbin. His expression shifted from playful to angry so quickly. 

“Heeseung?” Hanbin questions with a scoff, “Why don’t you go fuck him, too then, prude.” 

“Maybe I will, at least he’ll be able to find the clit.” 

Hanbin’s group of friends all gasp out into a fit of laughter as you walk away. You couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction for standing up for yourself and defending your choices. You felt like you had some sense of control in your life, again. And maybe that would help make up your mind about at least some things. 

After a storm warning that would fill the entire city and cancelling all classes, you found yourself stuck at home. Which sucked because you really felt like partying for the first time in weeks. Your sense of self was slowly returning thanks to the reviatlized connection with your friends. You were starting to regain your confidence. 

As the rain poured down in torrents, your phone rang. Your heart stopped and you hesitated for amoment before you answered it. 

“Hello?” you asked into the line. 

“Hey,” Heeseung’s voice came through, sounding distant and shaky. “It’s me. I’m really cold and really wet. Can I come in? Please?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. It had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to him. You didn’t know what to expect as you dashed to your apartment door and swung it open. You were met with a sight that took your breath away. 

There, stood Lee Heeseung, drenched from head to toe, his hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes clinging to his frame. His expression was a mix of relief and vulnerability as he looked at you, rain drops trickling down his cheeks. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice unsteady, “I’m so sorry for everything.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask him, your hand tightening on the doorknob. 

“I know I told you that I love you. I remember. I was just, scared.” Your jaw drops at his words, after all this time, he really remembered the confession. “But now I’m not.” Heeseung steps closer to you as he looks into your eyes, the most serious you’ve ever seen him, “I love you Y/n, and if I’m going to be rejected, I want to be rejected to my face– not by ignoring my messages or running away when you see me in the halls. So, there. I love you, and I mean it.” 

You stand there, jaw dropped as you take in his words. He’s here, standing here, soaking wet and so vulnerable as he tells you his true feelings. 

With your lack of response Heeseung starts to get antsy and begins to turn to leave you, “Wait, Heeseung,” you reach out and grab his wet sleeve, stopping him. “I can’t reject you to your face,” you shake your head at him, watching as his eyes drop to the floor, “but it’s because I love you, too.” 

Heeseung’s whole demeanor lights up the darken room, “Really?” 

You laugh, “Yes, really. I love you so much, Heeseung.” 

Heeseung doesn’t waste a minute before he’s reaching for you, pulling your face upwards to meet his in a feverish, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed a multitude of all the unspoken emotions you have felt for each other for so long. A blend of longing and desire that remained hidden for too long. Your fingers tangled in Heeseung’s wet hair while his cold hands held your cheeks. 

He tasted of his usual, mixed with rain and love. Time seemed to stand still as you shared the most intense kiss you have ever experienced. Your hearts beating in a quick unison, echoing the longing you had tried so hard to suppress. 

You dragged Heeseung into your bedroom with you, no longer caring if Dayeon or Shana heard you with him. 

Heeseung pushes you onto your back, stripping off his wet clothes, nodding at you to do the same. You both reconnect with him on top of you, lips meeting each others with a passionate fever. He lets his hand trail down to between your bodies, his fingers rubbing your clit gently. 

“Daddy,” you whimper out to him at the feeling.

Heeseung shakes his head no, pressing kisses into your neck, “Just call me, Hee, baby.” You nod at him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him, wanting to never stop. 

Heeseung leans back onto his knees, spreading your legs for him, he stares at your wet, core as he’s about to slide in his cock, “Shit, wait, do you have a condom?” he’s almost breathless when he asks. 

“Just fuck me raw, Hee, please.” you tell him, eyes begging from it. 

“Fuck, okay, baby.” Heeseung leans over to kiss you, “You sure?” 

You smile against his lips, “Yes I’m sure, please.” With one more final kiss, Heeseung slides his cock into you slowly, letting both ofyou feel his bare cock sldie against your velvet walls. 

“Holy shit, Y/n.” Heeseung curses, “Seriously, holy shit, you feel so good.” You can only whimper in response as you feel every vein of his cock go up your mesh walls. You mewl and whine until Heeseung’s completely inside of you, holding your legs still from moving, “Just slipped right in, so good.” 

“Hee,” you call for him, your face completely blissed out from his cock. “Move, please.” 

Heeseung nods, listening to you as he starts to thrust his hips back and forth. Your pussy’s so wet that it lets his cock move so easily. It makes you both feel like you’re in heaven. You keep moaning out, edging Heeseung on as he keeps building his pace slowly. His fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles around it. He groans out when he feels your clench around his bare cock tighter. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep, Hee.” you tell him, “Feels so good.” 

“I know, baby, I know.” Heeseung nods, “Like you’re made for my cock.” His words make your groan out more. They have such an affect on you that he’ll never truly understand. 

Heeseung’s grip on your legs tightens as he slowly picks up his pace, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm already. Your wet, velvet walls keep sucking him in with every thrust, tightening around him everytime his thumb swivels against your swollen clit. 

“God, yes, fuck your pussy, Heeseung, yes,” you nod at him, grip tightening on the sheets as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

“Fuck, who’s pussy is it?” 

“Yours, Hee, all yours.” 

Heeseung grunts out, eyes closing as he fucks you. His thrusts are getting sloppier, never feeling so good before. Your wall just keep sucking him in, wanting to keep him inside of you. 

“Are you gonna cum?” You ask him, recognizing when he’s close by now. 

“Not without you, baby, please cum on my cock, wanna feel it bare.” Heeseung nods, his thumb circling your clit harder and faster and he keeps thrusting his dick inside of you. In and out with his just his hips rolling so perfectly. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop.” 

“I won’t, baby, just cum, I got you, just let go.” Heeseung’s voice is stern when he speaks, despite his chest heaving so quickly. 

With his words, you hit your climax, a high pitch moan coming out of your mouth before Heeseung covers your mouth with his hand, trying to keep you quiet for the sake of your roommates. Your orgasm has you shaking, soaking Heeseung’s bare cock while he fucks you through it, feeling your wells throb around him, edging him on to his own orgasm. 

“God, you’re such a good girl,” Heeseung shakes his head at you. 

“Want you to cum, Heeseung– wanna feel your cum in my pussy.” you tell him, your hands holding onto his forearms as he leans over you, dropping your legs and holding himself up on the bed. “Please, wanna feel it drip out of me so bad.” 

“Oh God, oh God, fuck, baby-,” Heeseung finally cums, throwing his head back as he reaches his climax, feeling completely blissed out. You keep moaning as you feel his cum shoot up inside of you for the first time. The warmth spreading over your walls. “I love you,” Heeseung leans down to kiss you, his lips not leaving yours until you push him away for air. 

“I love you, too.” 

Heeseung very slowly pulls out of you, both of you watching as his white cum starts to dribble out of you. Heeseung groans as he watches your swollen pussy leak his cum, thinking to himself that he’ll never get use the sight of it. He scoops up his cum and you open your mouth, already knwoing by now what he wants you to do. You hum around his fingers as you drink the substance off of them. Your tongue circles his fingers, making him tell you to stop or he’ll get hard again. 

When you’ve calmed down, Heeseung lifts you and brings you to the shower with him. He tells you that he’s been wanting to shower with you and take care of after sex for so long now, but he was scared. You reassure him that there’s nothing to be scared of now. That it’s him and you and that you love each other. 

Heeseung does what he’s always wanted to do, washes your body after he ruins you, wanting to take care of you. He kisses all over your body as he cleans you, whispering about how much he loves you over the shower water running. 

And you let him fuck you again after, up against the shower wall. The slowest, loveliest sex you’ve ever had. His hands carressing every part of you as he tells you what a beautiful girl you are and how he’s so lucky to have you, so lucky to be able to fuck your pussy. How he never wants to lose you. 

And when he’s done cleaning you up again, you lay in your bed together, warm as outside thunders and rains so heavily. You lay in each others embrace as your souls finally connect together in peace. 

“You know,” you start, “did you really believe the rumour that I was a prude before you met me?” 

Heeseung shrugs, “Yeah, I guess.” You gasp playfully at his answer. “What? You believed the rumour that I had a daddy kink.”

“What?” 

“I mean, I never even tried that whole daddy think until I met you– I thought you had the daddy kink.” 

Your jaw remains open at his words, “I can’t believe you right now, Hee.” 

Heeseung laughs as he pulls you closer into his chest under the covers, “C’mere, baby, let daddy take care of you.” 

“Heeseung!” 

Your bedroom is filled with laughter as you continued to talk about all the wasted time you two could have shared together if neither of you were so scared and stubborn. The rain was still pouring outside, trapping the two of you in your bedroom for days. With your hands intertwined and hearts pounding together. 

Neither of you know what will happen when people find out the college prude is dating the notorious frat president, but neither of you cared, finding complete solace in each other. As you keep each other close, you know that you were no longer fighting the riptides of uncertainty alone, but together you will navigate the waters. Your connection was stronger than ever as you brace yourselves for whatever might happen in the unpredictable currents of life. 

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

stay safe everyone :)

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

All right it's been a couple days it's time for me to analyze parts of the musical (I don't care if my takes are old news I am giving myself endorphins ok????)

What I would like to focus on today is Jean Valjean's part in the reprise of "A Heart Full of Love." I'm particularly attached to this moment because it's how the musical represents his letting go of Cosette, which is one of my favorite scenes in the book (the box?? The box, anyone?????? "And they were all each other had in the world"?????????), so when I first heard this I already knew I was going to melt. But there are so many little details that just KILL ME

First of all, he's singing in counterpoint by himself while they duet (and they don't even know he's there). He is musically isolated and, while not opposing their harmony per se, contrasts it with a melody of his alone

The melody he uses is itself heartbreaking. He sings "She was never mine to keep" as a reference to the WORDS AND MELODY OF ÉPONINE ("He was never mine to lose") IN THE FIRST INSTANCE OF THIS SONG AS SHE MOURNED MARIUS, THE OTHER PART OF THIS COUPLE. (Also love how, in this moment as well as others, the song gives familial love as much value as romantic love, which is why it's so heartbreaking that Jean Valjean feels he's being left behind!) If you listen, JVJ is actually singing her melody and then harmonizes with what she had sung; he is united with Éponine, foreshadowing his death as well as showing his grief

He keeps doing this through the rest of the song. "Love is the garden of the young" mirrors Éponine's "Why regret what could not be?" (AUGH!! PARALLELS!! PUT THEM IN THE SAME SENTENCE) and his "Let it be" is in harmony with her "Not to me" (AGAIN!!!!)

And then. This is the part that really gutted me and made me write this post. When they notice him, he adopts their melody and lyrics as they move past them. He sings "A heart full of love / This I give you / on this day" and they harmonize without him...but they're not just melodically moving on. Their rhyme scheme is totally different. They're rhyming on "all" and similar sounds; his final word, "day," doesn't rhyme with anything they're saying or that he's said.

And then you look back at the start of the song, where you find the only rhyming lines: "I will never go away / And we will be together every day."...

Jean Valjean is rhyming with Cosette. As she sings the words he desperately wants to hear.

But she did not sing those words for him. He's trying to hold onto her, but his heart full of love is no longer the one she wants most. It's too late to rhyme with her; he is alone. And all he can do is look back to the past and think of when she was just so tall, and they held each other's hands...when he would sing, "I'll always be here / Where I go, you will be."

[lavendermunson]

cards - eddie munson

day 3 of leia's christmas tree farm

cw eddie struggles with mental health, eddie's pov. henderson!reader (no physical descriptions). angst. exes to lovers. inspired by a scene from love actually.

Eddie is a mess right now. He sits on the couch of his trailer, his right leg bouncing as his foot taps loudly into the floor. In his head, breaking up with you was the best thing he could ever do to protect you from all his mood swings, tantrums, and anger episodes.

But he fucked up, you haven’t talked to him for a month and it’s killing him. He missed you, he let you go for a stupid, stupid reason and he regrets it every day of his damned existence. 

The phone rings so loudly that it makes him flinch. As annoyed as Eddie can get, he picks up the phone and shouts “What do you want” to the person on the end of the line. As good as his luck can get, it’s only your brother, Dustin. 

“I’ll be quick, my sister is going out with a weird guy. Well, he is not weird, he is just Drew and he isn't you, Eddie. I know she loves you, I know you love her and this guy isn’t good for her. Please do something! They are watching a movie at his house! GO NOW!”

Dustin hangs up the phone, leaving Eddie speechless. Jealousy crawls over his body, he holds the phone so tight his knuckles turn white. He knows this guy, he has been in his house for a couple of parties and even if Drew is not the worst person ever, he still has something that Eddie loves, something Eddie wants.

He makes a plan and after an hour Eddie gets in his van and turns on his walkie-talkie to talk to Dustin on his way. It has to be perfect. 

When Eddie arrives at his destination, he hears the phone ring inside the house. That was his sign to knock on the door, not too hard but with his hand shaking in desperation.

You open the door and Eddie’s heart melts, you look so beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembers, his memory doesn't do justice to your perfect and beautiful face. He lets out a nervous sigh as his breath comes out in a cloud from the cold. He holds the cue cards in his hands and presses the play button on the boombox to a Christmas song sung by a random caroling group. He begins to pass the cards.

He feels so lucky you didn’t close the door on his face, that was a great sign.

‘I’m sorry, I know I fucked up’

You cross your arms over your chest, wrapping the blanket you had around yourself to warm you up while the cold wind hits the front porch. 

‘I love you, since that time in the sandbox’

‘Remember? I found a ladybug and gave it to you’

A voice comes from inside the house, you jump at the sudden scream. 

“Hey, who is that?” your date asks while holding the phone in his hand. “I’m getting a huge deal on family video tapes over here!”

Oh, and Steve is going to kill Dustin.

“Great!” you reply, looking over at the guy with the red phone in his ear, excited to hear how a little kid tricks him. Only he is oblivious about it. “Just carol singers, I got it”

And you return your attention to Eddie, who nervously passes to the other cue cards as you read them carefully, while his knees keep shaking. He has been planning this for hours, and it’s not what you deserve but it’s just a start. He thinks he can do better and he is going to.

‘Because we used to believe ladybugs…’

“Are for good luck since one landed on my hand the day we kissed for the first time”

You say, and Eddie nods with the biggest smile on his face. His cheeks hurt with the cold weather. He feels his fingers cramp, his arms are about to give out and he needs a better jacket but that didn’t cross his mind because you are in it. All the time.

‘I’m in love with you, that’s never going to change’

‘You make me better, kind, smarter…’

‘I miss you’

‘My life has no meaning without you’

He sees you crying, tears rolling down your cheeks making Eddie’s heart break like shattered glass because he knows he caused all of this mess. He just wants to fix it because he has lost a million opportunities by running away, this time he is doing the opposite and he is trying, he is trying. 

“Are you gonna watch the movie?” Right, you are on a date. With a guy who has never broken your heart, while Eddie begs for forgiveness feeling almost stupid for it.

The final cue card comes, and Eddie has lost all of his hope. But it’s worth a try.

‘You are the love of my life, the only one I want’

The music stops. Both standing in silence, while Eddie holds his bleeding heart on his hands and you keep crying, bottom lip quivering and red cheeks hurting while you try to hold a smile.

“I- I’m sorry Eddie” 

You take a step back and close the door. The dungeon master admits his defeat, picking the cue cards from the floor and the boombox from the steps on the porch. Walking to his van before collapsing on the snow.

He had to try. He had hope, he lost it, he lost you and now he will be heartbroken for the rest of his life. No matter how many friends he has, how many metal records he owns, and how many concerts he performs. Life would be nothing without you. 

Once he gets in his vehicle his hands grip the steering wheel and he starts crying. He touches his chest, just where his heart is. The cold, his heartbreak, the thought of him losing the only person he loved other than Wayne. It’s too much and he honestly doesn’t know if he can handle it. 

His sobs get cut when someone knocks on the window of the passenger seat, Eddie glances at the door ready to scream the loudest ‘FUCK OFF’ of his life with all the anger in his chest. 

“You are the love of my life too, Eddie. I love you”

You hop on the van and kiss him. A soft but gentle dance of lips, mixed with tears. It’s so tender, so soft… it erases the what-ifs, the sadness, and the tiny little voice in Eddie’s head that used to torture him. And now, as you hold him. He knows it was worth the risk, he knows he should stop running away from everything. And that Christmas miracles exist, according to Dustin.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, remember you can still request a gift!

[pitchsidestories]

New Year's Eve Party (1) II Fridolina Rolfö x Bonmati!Reader

New Year's Eve Party Masterlist I Word count: 1275

With a playful smile you started playing the song Gimme Gimme Gimme which was immediately recognized by your Swedish girlfriend.

From the speakers, the two female leading voices sung passionately, There's not a soul out there. No one to hear my prayer. Amused she turned around to look into your eyes:” You know just because I’m Swedish I don’t automatically love ABBA.”

“But you love that song.”, you reminded her with an innocent grin. “Okay, yes. But not all ABBA songs.”, she sighed but could not help beaming as you were whispering the lyrics into her ear. Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?

“Maybe Aitana afterwards?”, you suggested while you were trying to hang up some fairy lights to brighten up your home. Both of you were happy about being the host for this Barcelona Team New Year Eve’s party. Amused Fridolina remarked: “Just because she’s called like your sister.” “Yeah true.”, you giggled.

Slightly concerned the tall Blonde furrowed her brows at you:” What are you doing, huh?” “Trying to hang up the fairy lights?”, you responded nervously. She shook her head in disbelief: “There?!” “Yes, I thought it would look pretty.”, you shrugged your shoulders. Clearing her throat Fridolina proposed her idea: “Wouldn’t it look better over there?” “No.” “No?”

“We can try It there and when decide where to put them up.”, you offered her as a peace sign. The Swedish forward observed smirking: “It doesn’t matter to you anyway you can’t reach it.”  “Rude! Maybe with a little bit of help from your side I could reach it.”, you told her.

With ease Fridolina lifted you up so you could put up the fairy lights: “Hurry up, you’re heavy.” “Done.”, you cheered only a few seconds later. Relieved the blonde let you down to your own feet again:” Good. Because I probably shouldn’t lift people with my knee.”

“Oh dios mio, I’m sorry, mi amor.”, you immediately apologized to her tracing kisses all over her to make the pain go by faster. A slight blush creeped up the cheeks of your girlfriend as she reassured you:”I’m okay, don’t worry.”  “Okay, good.”, you replied. Both of you got lost in each other’s eyes.

The warm lights made your brown eyes look golden which fascinated Fridolina very much before a glance at the clock made her realize you two were running out of time sooner than she expected:” But we have to hurry up.” “Right, the first guests will arrive soon.”, you agreed with her more serious in tone than before. Motivated the Blonde clapped in her hands:” And we still have to get ready. So help me put the garlands up.”

“That’s true.“ , you nodded while holding up the other side of the garland so Fridolina could tape it to the wall. You let your gaze drift through the room that now looked more like party location than your home.

“Do you think Lucy will tell her crush how she feels? I mean the whole team knows by now except the one important person.“, you thought out loud, a hint of a smile in your voice. Your girlfriend snorted in reply; “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s Lucy. She’s way too proud for that.“ “Yes but that’s so stupid, Frido.“, you sighed.

Fridolina casually took the garland out of your hand to attach the other side to the wall as well. “We can’t make her see that.“, she shrugged. “Sadly. Leila is coming too, right?", you decide to change the subject while placing some shimmering confetti on the tables that you know you will regret putting there weeks after the party. Taking a step back, your girlfriend eyed her work critically; “Yes, she’s. She wanted to visit her friends here.“

A smile immediately spread on your face, happy that your former team mate came for a visit; “That’s cute.“ “I know, right?“ “Yes, you know back when she played for Barcelona I always felt like Leila and one of our midfielders had that special chemistry.“, you told her with a conspirational wink.

Instead of asking who it was, as you expected, Fridolina just gave you a stern look: “No. Stop trying to play cupid“. “Sorry, I love doing it.“, you blinked at her with big, innocent eyes. Your girlfriend pointed to the cardboard box full of decorations; “Yes, but now we have to focus on the decoration.“ “You’re right.“, you gave in and continued to help her.

A little later, the walls of your house were covered with garlands, balloons and a huge sign that said “2024“. You were very happy with the result. With all the lights and the glitter everywhere, you could feel the excitement rise.

Nervously, you grabbed your phone to check the time and noticed a string of messages from your team mates; “Oh no. The girls on their ways, we need to change into our party clothes!“

“Wait.“, Fridolina called you back. You gave her a puzzled look; “What?“ “We forgot to put up that huge mirrorball.“ You blew out a breath and clapped your hands together; “We need to do this before our guests arrive.“ “Do you think we can reach the ceiling?“, your girlfriend asked while thoughtfully looking upwards. With a shrug, you took the ball; “We can try.“ “I’ll pick you up.“, she decided.

Before you could protest that she shouldn’t do that with her injured knee, you were already in her arms. With a bit of stretching and some accidental kicking of Fridolina, you managed to attach the mirrorball to the ceiling. You had to admit, the room looked even better with all the light being reflected now.

“What do you think you’re doing?“, a voice called from behind them. You both flinched. Startled, Fridolina lost her grip on you, but managed to regain it before you actually fell. “Oh my god, don’t scare us like that!“, she scolded, once your feet were back on the ground. Alexia and her wife stood next to each other in matching dresses and you were immediately reminded that you were still in sweats.

Guiltily you bit your lip before exclaiming:” Honestly we thought you and your wife would be the last to arrive!” “Mama came early.”, Alexia explained, her voice less stern than it was before.  Knowing her teammate and the love she had for her daughter Victoria Alba all too well Fridolina couldn’t help but to tease her a bit: “And will leave early?” “As usual.”, you added.

“It’s good that you’re already here though. The catering service will bring the food any minute now, maybe you can let them in, so we can get dressed in the meantime?”, the Swedish forward asked the wives. The team’s captain did not need long to think about that proposal: “Yes, no worries, I can do that even with my knee.” Relieved you hugged your first visitors before you headed to the bathroom with Fridolina:” Thank you!”

As you were getting ready side by side you could not help but to pause for a second to take the beauty in that was your girlfriend:” You look beautiful Frido.” “Thank you. So do you.”, the Scandinavian woman answered while pressing a soft kiss to your cheek careful not to ruin the makeup you applied a few seconds ago.

The anticipation of the awaiting evening and night got under your skin as you wanted to know from her: “Ready for tonight?”  “Very. I can’t wait.”, Fridolina replied honest.

With a look through the window you saw Mapi, Ingrid, their girlfriend, Patri, Claudia and your sister arriving at your : “Oh yes, seems like the party is about to begin.”

Let us know if you enjoyed Part 1 💙

[rel124c41]

NOW PLAYING ‘I CAN’T STOP THE LONELINESS’ BY NIGHT TEMPO. jade leech

Good old Jaido is being ironic, acting happy on the worst day of his life. Why would an artist create happy music to pair it with such sad lyrics?

tags: unrequited love, angst and tragedy, hurt no comfort, complicated relationship, regrets & sorrows, friendships, bro doomed by the narrative, happy birthday to me fuckers

word count: 2,087

The first dance goes to Floyd, his brother.

This is only natural because, of course, the bride dances with the groom on their wedding day.

At his seat at the family table, Jade rolls a glass of celebratory champagne in his gloved hand. Freshly poured, it still bubbles with some last desperation. Champagne is a sipping wine but – carbonation burns the bridge of his nose with white pain as he gulps it down. Each organ in Jade stirs like kicked sediment, bubbling over. 

Floyd’s side of the table is weighed down by their father, mother, himself, and grandmother; yours is weighed down by Grim, who is trying to steal extra food off his father’s plate. The reservation hall is drowned in people though, all coming together to support your unity. 

The only one who fails to uphold this support wholeheartedly is one-drink-down-ten-more-to-go Jade Leech, the pillar of brotherhood crumbled and eroded. 

It is my own fault. Jade thinks as his mother pours him another drink. All my fault.

You and Floyd dance to ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’. Sung by Frankie Valli, each lyric and note match up with each other perfectly. There is no juxtaposition between melody and meaning. With you cradled in his arms, Floyd looks down, softly mouthing each word to you. By doing so, he expresses that each word is genuine, engraved in his soul. 

To Floyd, he truly cannot take his eyes off of you, magnetized in. When there is a break in lyrics, he steals June coded kisses – warm like the beginning of summer. You two nuzzle cheek to cheek, amorous. 

As expected, Floyd cannot stay slow-dancing for longer than a minute. Melody starts to change. From sweet, it goes to this jumping excitement as the baritone horn and baritone saxophone intensify. You two start to pull away, independent in your motions. 

Besides the tight hold both your right hands have … refusing to let go … tying the knot.

The music goes: can’t take my eyes off of you, bum bum, whump whump, bam-d bam-d, bum bum, whump whump. You shimmy your shoulders back and forth, a smile eclipsing your face. Floyd throws you a wink, hips swaying side to side. Despite the ridiculousness … no, because of your joint ridiculousness, it amplifies that sentiment of nuptial bliss: you two were destined and designed for each other.  

Moved by music, you even hop in platform heels. Then, blindsided and unexpecting Jade watches, as the beat reaches its peak. You two shout, both of you jumping, but making certain your eyes connect when you shout the lyrics: “I love you, baby!!” The crowd goes wild with cheers, clapping along to the music. 

And if it’s quite alright, I need you baby to warm a lonely night! You and Floyd throw away coordination lessons as the song continues, already the perfect dance partner for each other. 

This entire wedding feels like one big, ironic joke being played on him. 

Jade looks up from his happy, bubbling champagne when Floyd dips you so low that your spine is parallel and supine to the ground, floating only four inches or so. Both of you laugh louder than the music and cheers. A polite smile is still glued to Jade’s face. 

He says words that only the watery ear of his champagne hears, “I should have never introduced them.” Unsaid because he is swallowing his alcohol-scented sorrow: It is all my fault.

The second dance goes to their father.

You seem to remember those coordinated dance lessons afterall. Especially graceful in his father’s imposing arms. Though, you keep your stance far away from his father’s shoes. Trembling at the mere notion of just touching the side of one. Burnished elkan leather that probably costs equivalent to your engagement ring. 

Your engagement ring – ah, what a cursed, loathed object it is in Jade's world. 

He was there when Floyd bought the ring. Do you know this? Jade thinks you probably do not. The proposal spot was all Floyd’s plan while the engagement ring was Jade’s. 

“Get her this one.” Jade had pointed towards an engagement ring with a criss-crossing design on the band and a diamond the size of a dime. “Diamonds are known for their durability.”

Diamonds would be able to sustain through a wild lifetime with Floyd. 

Washing dishes and spreading cream cheese on bagels in the blissful morning light, typing on computers and holding a phone up to your ear to talk in the middle of noon, brushing teeth and reaching under the sheets to stroke teasingly at his navel, moving further down and down, in the blanket of night light. Living a domestic life until you were dissolved into seafoam. All the remains of your love. A single diamond ring on a skeleton finger. Resilient.

Even though one should be the main player in their own life, it seems Jade is destined and designed for the background. 

When Floyd told Jade where he would propose, it kicked his ribs and stomach harder than any alcohol could. ‘I’m already down, why push me further’ is what Jade’s half-a-second wrinkling expression spoke. With the news broken, Jade smiled with hidden rage, “I’m sure she will love that.”

The place Floyd proposed? It was the place Jade introduced you to his twin. 

Isn’t it ironic? Jade knew you first but he will never know you the best. You will reveal your pink love and black secrets to Floyd yet never Jade. Jade: your first friend in Twisted Wonderland, now your brother-in-law. 

The third dance goes to their mother.

You are truly more beautiful than any diamond. You are something that gleams brighter than all the jewelry on the ocean floor or in sunken shipwrecks. When Jade and Floyd were little, they used to steal stuff from each other all the time. Noses would be broken because hey, that shell you found is prettier than mine! It only makes sense that they would find themselves attracted once again to the same, shining allurement. 

They learned to share as all children do. They broke off pieces of a sturgeon’s scales together and shared that. The diamond that is you though? Jade means a lot to you, he knows it; he knows it does not go beyond friendship. 

When you are dancing with his mother, you shine. Laughter pianos out of your mouth in a genuinely happy melody. Unlike him, you do not have to force this mirth. Acrylic nails grab your wrist and twirl you so fast you could puke. Giggles are a kinder substitute. Despite your early anxiety, all is alright now. 

Jade reflects upon that. The only moment you were frowning at that wedding.

He was speaking to Trey Clover when you appeared out of nowhere, platforms clicking. The visage of you stole his breath away; then, you stole him away from his conversation with Clover, apologizing. Jade let himself be dragged by your firm hand. As the tendrils of your hair and wedding veil bounced with your pace, Jade watched the dorsal side of his diamond gleam and raced down to a secluded hallway. 

You turn on Jade, blindly bright. Sevens, you look gorgeous. Even with that frown on your face – how can he help, he wants to soothe it away immediately – you are a sight he will never tire off. 

“Am I doing the right thing?”

For a second, Jade’s world stops. 

He thinks for a second, perhaps he could be the main character. For second, the diamond on your ring finger is not so loathsome to him. Instead of it representing infinity, it turns finite. It is a piece of jewelry you can take off. It takes only a second before you speak again:

“I mean, Floyd has been so great through all this. Super understanding, super wonderful. I mean he’s put up with all my little whims. And he was so excited about seeing the dress! I mean, the tradition of not seeing the bride before the ceremony is boring and super outdated –”

Ah, he is back in the secondary character position. You were only talking about the tradition you brought over from your world. It had a little bit of your culture that you wanted to keep with you – not seeing Floyd until you walked down the aisle. 

Jade is incredibly stupid to think you were talking about the wedding. You do not seem the type to call off a wedding. He smiles and asks, “That eager?”

“Well, I,” you fluster and look away. ‘No. I’m not, but it was the only thing Floyd and I really fought on. I’m starting to realize that it is a bit silly.”

“Keeping tradition is often how we show love for the generations before us.”

You weigh Jade’s words carefully on the scale of your consciousness. He wonders if he spoke his heart if you would take that into consideration or ignore it. After a pregnant silence, you say, “But I don’t really have a family history anymore.”

Jade blinks, surprised, as you continue, “Today, Floyd is going to become my family. Or, well, I’m going to become part of his. I have nothing of myself to offer in terms of tradition anymore.”

“You will just choose to assimilate to the circumstances?”

“Wouldn’t anyone do so for love?”

Those words fall like an anvil on Jade’s heart. “Yes. I fear they might.”

“Fear is such a drastic word!”

Jade laughs as you say, “Ah but I suppose it is true. I’m actually terrified right now.” Your hands fall down to play with the hem of your gown. You run your thumb over the outfit you will only wear once. Such a monumental, life-changing piece of fabric. 

The diamond catches a flicker of light, reflective. Jade asks, “Are you having regrets?” He waits with bated breath. 

“About Floyd? No. Never.” Your expression only solidifies the truth of your words. 

“Then my advice?” You look on with eager eyes. Jade smiles through the pain. “I say you should keep with the tradition. Weddings are a merge of the very notion. When you become a Leech, you still have your identity to care for.” That is not the real reason though. Because, this. This Jade gets to steal: the first sight of you in your wedding dress.

“Thanks, Jade. You’re the best friend – the best brother that a bride could ask for.”

Hand over his heart, concealing everything, “It is my pleasure.”

The final and fourth dance goes to Jade.

Carried by a crowd that rushes, you two dance a mad dance, hands welded together. In your gown, you move like Jade imagines all those sneaky princesses that defied and tricked the Seven must have – well, six princesses. Like an oscillating dream, you lean back, arms out. Laughing, you swing right back into Jade, chest to chest and arms out to the side instead.

When your hearts connect in the dance, Jade thinks he could be foolish enough to steal a kiss. Just one to be a solution to all his troublesome pining. A shade of Venus pink, shining and alluring him into a dumb mistake. 

I had you first but I will not have you last. Or in any ways that matter to your heart. 

The song that plays is a melody that demands dancing. It is a force that moves your hips to sway side to side. Puppets you jump around, platforms banging along with the lyrics. And what tragic lyrics they are. The smile on your face would make him think he was listening to a love song. 

Fluent in quite a few languages, Jade knows better. Though, Jade is unsure why the song is structured like this. Why would an artist create happy music to pair it with such sad lyrics? It is such a cruel juxtaposition. Jade smiles when you twirl yourself so your dorsal side lies against his front, snug in his arms as he dances with you. Those Venus-hued lips pull up in a diamond grin.

Why would an artist create happy music to pair it with such sad lyrics? There is only one answer. Irony. 

Jade laughs and helps you back to your feet when your platforms catch on the bottom of your wedding gown. You thank him so genuinely. Jade never wants this particular melody to end.

Then, it does.

“Can I steal my Shrimpy back,” Floyd jokes, when the song ends. You happily launch yourself into his arms, ready to dance until your feet are sore. Stolen successfully. 

[finelinevogue]

these are angsty times, so i feel like a good angsty blurb about h never making time for you is one idea. but since these are angsty times, then maybe it also calls for fluff so maybe h likes to do one thing different in any of his songs for you every show? kind of like sabrina carpenter’s nonsense outro? so like maybe during keep driving, he always sings something different to you or about you?

pls tell me i’m making sense, i can’t talk i’m too excited

okay hello. of course my first blurb back would be requested at the hands of our very own nova (this is especially for you);

(this is part of the harryshouse!universe too)

It was a known thing that Harry was very much in love with you.

If anything, the poor man was so in love with you he got teased for it. Even the fans were in on some of the jokes. You being a well known Youtuber and social media influencer meant that Harrys doting love was often well publicised.

Actions such as him buying you flowers, him making you dinner or taking you out for a fancy dinner would be shown on your Instagram for fans, and everyone else, to see. However, simple things like stolen kisses, hand-written love notes and 3AM ice-cream runs for you were actions that you kept secret and close to your heart.

Those actions were yours and Harrys alone.

There were some actions, however that were made overtly public so even people that didn't have Instagram or follow you would hear of.

Some of Harrys love declarations made National news headlines.

Specifically the changing of lyrics at his concerts.

Like stated, it was no surprise that the love Harry had for you would cause him to do some crazy things, but Harry changing his lyrics on stage would always be on of the greater, funnier, gestures for you. What's more, is they were as public as they came.

It started with 'Keep Driving'. In New York, night 3.

Nobody was expecting the show to be any different musically to the night before, except for when he changed the lyrics to 'Keep Driving'. At first the fans thought he was singing a different song, but afterwards, through re-watching videos, they came to learn the new lyrics he'd made.

"Cocain, Y/N's boob. I choke her, with a sea view."

When you had come to realise what he had sung you had gone red in the face.

"Harry!"

He knew he was in trouble just from the fact you used his full and proper name, rather than he loving nicknames you used for one another.

"In the kitchen, love." He answered back, swivelling on the barstool chair to face the door you would come through.

When he saw you, you were red in the face and were shaking your head with a sarcastic grin. Harry smiled as he watched you walk over to him, dressed in one of his tour jumpers and a pair of joggers.

You stopped in front of him and he immediately brought you closer, sliding his warm hands underneath the jumper and running them up and down your back.

"What's with the pout, hm?" He asked.

"You know." You challenged him, wanting to see whether he did or did not in fact know.

"If it's about the fact I bought you Galaxy instead of Cadbury's chocolate, again, i've already apologised five times." He groaned.

"It's not about that actually," You shook your head, "But you should know that no amount of apologies will fix that problem."

Harry smiled and shook his head at you. "Then what, baby?"

You turned your phone around and showed him a video of the previous night on stage, singing the new version of ‘Keep Driving’. He nodded his head along to the music and you noticed no sense of regret or guilt to what he had done.

You looked expectantly at him once you’d finished showing it to him.

“Well?” 

“Well what?”

“What the fuck was that? You basically outed the fact that I am a very kinky lady.”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Baby, you’re not a lady if you let me choke you.”

“So you both admit and are okay with how you sang that verse.”

“Uh everyone knew the song was about you anyways, love. It’s not that hard to figure it out, since I’ve only ever been in love with you.” He counter argued, making very good points.

“Well now they’re starting a fan project to sing that line instead of the original version.” You grumbled. “So they’re collectively singing about my boobs and you choking me.”

He didn’t day anything but just smiled.

You pushed away from him but he was quick to grab your hand and pull you even closer back to his chest.

“At the end of the day, I’m only choking you.” 

And at that, he had pretty much won the argument - later proving his last remark to you. 

Since that ‘Keep Driving’ impromptu lyric change, Harry has been clever in building them into the rest of the set. He doesn’t make the lyric changes every night on stage, even if the fans do sing the new version, but sometimes he’ll be spontaneous and create a new one. 

“If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you. Y/Ns the spoon, dip them in honey so I could be sticking to youu.”

There was even one show where he saw you standing with a tub of ice-cream and he came over to sing to you:

“Is that ice-cream edible, ‘Cause my stomach’s not that full. Can I have a little taste? Just a taste?” 

Before he leant down to taste the ice-cream and screamed ‘oh yeah’ afterwards whilst he continued to dance. 

Never was there quite someone who showed their love for their partner, the way that Harry did for you. 

[mimastuff]

May I request Headcannons for the rottmnt boys hearing their s/o sing for the first time. (But with a twist.)

Here's the scenario: the boys are planning a thingy to get into big Mama's hotel for a mission and y/n and April are planning a distraction, and the distraction is y/n has to pretend to be a singer and go sing on stage (big mama doesn't know that y/n is with the turtles so she just thinks there's a nice singer on stage) and April is in charge of something else in the back idk.

(to me it's funny if y/n sings a spicy song, not too spicy but enough)

I've been thinking about this for weeks

Yes this sounds amazing ! Ily thank you for the request !!! <33

Voice of gold

TW: mild swearing, anxiety

Pairings: Donnie x singer!reader

Established relationship

——————————————————————————-

- The plan was simple.

- You and the gang had planned out a mission to sneak into big mamas hotel.

- To do this they would need a distractor.

- That is where you and April come in.

- It was easy, to sing on a stage well enough to get big mamas attention so the rest can sneak out.

- They all re lived the events of them catching April singing alone in her apartment

- Donnie still gets sick just thinking about it to this day.

- The way her voice so easily cracked could put a dying cat to shame.

- So they all looked towards you

- Even your boyfriend joined in on the major puppy dog eyes

- You folded and now you’re here.

- In the hotel setting up to have your big moment

- You have always beat yourself up on your singing voice

- It had always been hard to get you to sing to even your closest people

- Now you had to do it, with a huge crowd.

- A room full of strangers

- Ready to creep their judgmental eyes on you

- The music started to play all around you

- Back to black by Amy Winehouse

- You took a deep breath in and started to sing

- “He left no time to regret~”

- You could feel your anxiety through your feet and finger tips

- As you sung you gained your confidence

- A big crowd had by now gathered around you cheering you on

- Big mama turned on her seat and walked to towards you

- Her eyes full of sparkles when she heard your angelic voice

- “I go back to back~”

- The cheers grew louder as you began to sing with a bright smile on your face

- You turned to the behind the stage to see a mesmerised April and …..

- Donnie.

- Shit.

- He has heard you know ? What would he think ? Does he like it?

- As the song faded out and finished and the whole room cheered for you

- You turned to your turtle boyfriend who was cheering and clapping for you louder than anyone else.

- You bowed on stage and said your goodbyes.

- You headed straight to back stage.

- The smile on your face to light up millions

- Donnie ran up and hugged you and spun you around

- “Why didn’t you tell me that you could sing dear ? You have a voice of gold”

- The other 3 turtles had successfully carried out the mission and now all was left was to sneak out of here

- That was until as you were leaving the hotel someone tapped you on your shoulders

- You turned to see big mama. The big mama.

- “Hello dearest, I heard you voice and had to congratulate you!”

- You smiled but with confusion.

- “Thank you~”

- “You might be wondering what for and that is for your new job as our singer!”

- Oh.

- The 4 turtles and April were all hiding so when they heard the job offer looks of surprised played out on their faces

- You didn’t know how to feel.

- It would be a lot of money but she’s a villain!

- So the question is , do you accept the offer?

To be continued…..

——————————————————————————-

Hope you guys liked this one! It was fun , I’m sorry it took so long . I have had an incredibly busy week love you all and have a good day or night <33

[cupcakeslushie]

@beeisblue Huginn and Muninn try to spoil Three when they can in their own pathetically middle of the road—thanks for trying way. But more often than not, they’re on babysitting duty to make sure Three doesn’t blow up his own lab—which can be pretty dangerous so they’d much rather keep their distance, but they do feel bad about not doing more to help. They’ll make a little appearance along with Shelldon in Donnie’s interlude, which is coming up next, after we conclude Mikey’s rescue arc!

That is definitely not sanctioned, but yes—Draxum is just too exhausted with Three’s antics at this point. The child used to be at least respectful out of fear, but it seems like ever since a few years back when Three hit some kind of mental, pain threshold, Draxum has had a hard time controlling and understanding his thought process.

The boys do change things up by way of casual clothes around the lair, just wearing whatever’s comfortable—pretty close to the show with Mikey and Donnie probably wearing more sweaters and joggers and hoodies than say Leo or Raph. As for missions I might change my mind if I can come up with something else fun for them to wear, but as for now…most of them change pretty quickly to their movie look as soon as they each unlock their ninpo. I’ve put Leo in 2012!Leo’s white vision quest hoodie until his finally moves on to his black and blue ninpo gear just because he’ll struggle with it the most so he’s kind of the only one who takes a while to switch over to his finale look. But I might throw them in something extra if I change my mind!

@artoflittleowlbird Just a little song I made up! 😅 I really struggled with whether I wanted a real song or if I wanted to just make something from scratch. It’ll play a role later on so I hope I didn’t make it too weird sounding! I wanted it to have a non-rhyming feel like it’s something old which Splinter might’ve sung them.

Leo does meet Hueso eventually. He’s super polite when Raph, Mikey, and April first bring him to Run of the Mill, but there’s something so tired in his expression that Hueso can’t put his phalanges on. It makes the man wanna feed him, wrap him in a blanket and plop him on a comfy sofa where he can’t get hurt.

@sskurwysyn I’m sorry I’m so bad at this part. All the names I’m thinking of sound so stupid 🫣 If anyone else has one they’d like to suggest I’m all ears 🤣. And Mikey swapped out his nunchucks once or twice, but would always go back to them as soon as he could. I do like the idea of him wielding a comically huge kanabo like it’s nothing. Little man does not skip arm day.

@little-banjo-frog Leo is a little too high up in the ranking for them to be close friends, but he has gone on missions with her as part of her training. She respects him much like she does Foot Lieutenant and Brute in the show, but once she really meets Raph, Mikey, and April and hears their story and connects the dots of their missing brother being Leo, her conscience takes over and she can’t help but see how screwed up Leo is from what Shredder’s done to him. BUT THAT’S OKAY—cause you can’t get any cooler than being a double agent!! She just needs to find the perfect time to get Leo to meet his brothers, and they can both leave the foot clan behind! Plus once she’d started sneaking out of the compound at night to play vigilante with Raph, she was done for—way too much fun! Good thing she’s so good at being quiet…be a shame if she were followed…..

Aside from accidentally blowing up a Chee-Z ball factory in one of his first times out, Donnie’s gotten away with: taking apart half the tech in the lair and leaving the parts strewn all over for someone to trip on, snapping at his brothers and saying things even he knew at the time he’d regret saying, being an absolute shit to April when he first met her, testing a stimulant on himself and scaring the bejesus out of everyone when he had a tiny case of cardiac arrest…And probably the most glaringly obvious time Splinter was mad at him, but held his tongue—when Donnie needed the wiring in the projector tv and tore the whole thing apart so they were all left without any entertainment for two days while he built them a new one from scratch. Yes, they got something much nicer out of it, but he could’ve at least warned them! Raph thought Splinter’s fur was gonna be dyed perma-red from how much he looked like a tea kettle about to explode.

Raph has to get a handle on Savage Raph pretty soon after Leo and Mikey get taken, just out of necessity, but he doesn’t get rid of the fear of being alone completely. Meeting April helps even more, but once they’re all back together it does become a bigger struggle for him to not panic when they leave his eye-line. It’s not even something that registers as an issue at first cause as long as one of them is with him, he can stay pretty calm, but eventually they do all have to split up for some reason or other, and he goes full Savage Raph for the first time in YEARS. It’s only top-side though, he’s fine being alone in the Hidden City and the sewers. April is always their best bet for calming him down though. They make a joke out of it later like maybe next time she should say something like “Sun’s going down big guy!” But it’s the simple fact that a part of Raph might be scared to lose his brothers again, but April has always been his biggest source of comfort and safety—she’s his big sister.

100% yes April and Raph can totally mind meld 🤣 i love it.

[spacesurfing]

*sprints in* HAPPY 300 FOLLOWERSSSSS!! YOU DESERVE EVERY SINGLE ONE PAULA AND I'M SO GLAD I FOLLOWED YOU <3

As for the request thing...

Song: Fallin' by Why Don't We

Character: Dewdrop

Listening to the song right now... it will be presented!

•--•

Don't Let Me Wish Like This

Dewdrop Ghoul x Reader Fluff/Angst

Summary: What's more entertaining to a crowd than two lovers in the same bad? Flirting was more cheered upon, scandalous gestures made videos go viral and you even got a good laugh back at the ministry. But - wait, who lit the candles and who set you heart ablaze like that?

Warnings: faked relationship, ghoul!reader, angry boy Dewdrop

GIF NOT MINE!!

•--•

What was better than a bit of flirting on stage with costumes on and other band members with the same flirtatious attitudes? It was normal for the ghouls to all flirt - they'd always been that way, only protective if their partner was the one being flirted with.

But on stage, it didn't matter. Because the flirting was for show. And the show was excellent in the fan's eyes, so you continued. But one time in the tour bus, human glamour on in full, you turned to Sodo with a mischievous smirk spread across your face.

"Do you wanna pretend to date? The crowd would go nuts," you said to the fiery ghoul. He smiled widely, moving his hair back after it had fallen into his face at the turn of his head. He was gorgeous in that moment, the first time you'd seen him in a completely different light than just a fellow ghoul.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, "Of course, I mean, they'd be going crazy over that!" he nudged you in the shoulder with his free fist, "You've got good ideas."

And ever since then, you'd pretended to kiss, lips so close to touching yours that it would send streaks of cold through your body. It felt like the ceiling and all its lights would fall when he walked away from you.

You would hug him between songs and give him kisses on the cheek of his mask. You sung to him during Mary On A Cross, like you were in love.

You even appeased one fan that would scream whenever you came near the fire ghoul by sinking to your knees in front of him, pressing your tongue to his clothed thigh. But it was all fake, right? It was all fake because the way he laughed at you when you flirted with him made it fake. The way that he only took it as jokes made it fake. But when he would voluntarily lean into you, get close to your face, so close you could see the glow of his eyes. That made you wish it weren't.

You regretted that day. The day where you suggested your "brilliant idea." Because you realized that there was a thin line between fake and real. And you wanted to shove him over that line and kiss him once he realized which side he was on. But the play you put on was all fake, like when he'd pull you into his arms after shedding his guitar, just trying to get a rise out of the fans.

That wasn't fake to you. The way he made you freeze in time. On a stage in a room full of noise - the only thing you could hear was his breath.

This certain conecert broke you though.

You remember the beginning of the show, the lead guitarist following you like a lost puppy around the stage, kissing you on the top of your mask repetitively. He still interacted with most of the the other ghouls, including his boys in the mix. But, he always came back to you. You were his best friend next to Aether, why wouldn't he? Best friend. You were his best friend.

You felt throat swell with jealousy at him fooling around with the other ghouls, but that was what they did. Why would you be jealous? Dewdrop wasn't even your mate, nor would be ever be. Because you were only his best friend.

During Mary On A Cross, he reached out to your face, caressing your face with one hand, you damn-near cried right there beneath your mask, hands fumbling with your guitar, an instrument you had taken the privilege of playing from Swiss.

"I thought you said you were good at guitar," Dewdrop teased, loud enough for you to hear over all the instruments. You scoffed at his comment and he only laughed, waltzing away to go give a performance for everybody in the center.

Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. No, it wasn't because he noticed the change in guitar - well, maybe that too - but because he he had been so close to your face. Once again. You were embarrassed to be attracted to him. Not in love. You weren't in love with him. Cause that would just be completely silly to love someone when they don't love you back.

You had zoned for that show, staying near the right side of the stage, near Aether. And you were lucky that he was so distracting that nobody noticed the way your body held itself up and your guitar barely created music. And your ears had shut off as well, eyes staring blankly into the crowd while your foot slapped the stage in rhythm.

That was till Dewdrop animated you, snuck up behind you and leaned in near your ear. His chest kept space between your back so his hands could move, but his head nudged yours. You titled yours to the side, making room for him to rest against you.

"What's wrong, not feeling the crowd tonight?" he asked, pressing his clothed lips to your shoulder. This wasn't what you wanted at all. You wanted to go home. You wanted to beg Papa to let you go back to hell. Cause whatever this torture was, it's worse than what Satan could have in mind.

You paused for a moment, strumming your guitar, though it was like no noise came out at all. "Yeah," you mumbled, loud enough for his ears to hear. At least you knew he was also deadpanning into everything you did - though with how quiet you were you didn't blame him for doing so.

"That's alright, I wasn't really feeling them either," he purred, nuzzling against your neck for show. For show. Only for show.

You faked a laugh, "You're always feeling the crowd Dew, you don't have to say that."

The fire ghoul stepped away from you and you panned your eyes across the crowd. They were all coming down from cheering at how close you were to Dewdrop. They were just like your heart in a way, jumping the moment he stepped inside of your personal bubble.

Dewdrop hummed, playing next to you with an upbeat happiness that you didn't have. You felt your heart choke you. This was your fault that he was so out of reach but so fucking close to you. As the final notes played, ones that it didn't even seem like you knew, you beat down your guitar, pretending to be happy like Dewdrop was.

He loved the eyes on him, not something you hated. But you hated that he had thousands on him, because he couldn't see that one pair begged him louder than the others.

Though he couldn't see your eyes, couldn't see the way you watched his fingers strum his guitar, the veins in his hands pronounced with every movement he made. It was like you were a ghost in the mix of ghouls. You were see-through.

It was like he stood there radiating light. He was the only thing that stood out to you. He was a pronounced figure, basking in the light of his gorgeousness. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but he wasn't yours to touch.

And the time dragged on, with you watching Dewdrop like you were one in the crowd. And I guess it's hard to feel eyes on you when everyone's eyes are truly on you. Maybe he couldn't feel yours cause he didn't wish you looked at him in that way.

You could feel his when he was coming to approach you. You always felt his eyes in you. But they never were on you for no reason at all. Yours however, you always had little to no reason to be watching the ghoul.

The show had finally finished, the time at the end of a ritual to smile and wave at fans, your guitar set aside. Dewdrop snuggled you under his arm as he threw his picks into the crowd. You wrapped you arms around his waist tight. But it didn't matter if it felt like you were clinging onto him like he'd ditch you. Because it was for show so you might as well hug him hard.

You released him, collecting some of the flowers littered across the stage and looking back up to see that most of the guys were filing off of it. You offered a tiny wave to the crowd and ran over to the rest of them, trailing behind the girls.

Sunshine was holding a rat plush and Cirrus had bouquet of red roses, Cumulus having plucked one out of the set was was now picking at the petals, trailing them across the stage and into the backstage. Their movements were so gentle and soft compared to the hard and confident walks of the guys, it sent a calming relief over you, allowing your bones to settle.

Though, someone must have sensed your stress all drifting off cause Cirrus turned her head, not all the way back, but to the side enough for you to see her bright blue, glowing eyes through the lenses of her mask.

"Why don't you talk to him about it?" Cirrus asked, making Cumulus perk up, Sunshine listening in from the front of you all.

You shot a look right, over to the wind ghoulette that had spoken, "What?"

She stopped, making you almost bump into her. Her sudden halt made the other ghoulettes stop and turn. The guys had fully made their ways back to the dressing room, leaving the four of you alone in the empty hallway.

"Cirrus means you being in love with Dewdrop! She pointed it out and I also see it! In your eyes and posture," the excited Cumulus spoke, clutching the stem of her rose though she had forgotten about plucking at the petals all together.

You widened your eyes, backing your footing in surprise, "I'm not in love- if- if anything it's a stupid crush. How do you even-"

"You can see it all over you. You get tense when he is near you, and when he's not, you don't relax, you slump."

Sunshine nudged the air ghoulette, who was currently getting heated, "Lay off Cirr, it's not her fault."

"Well, watching it is a bit painful. Especially when he's just as oblivious as you are," she spoke, condescending as ever. It was hard for to think of a time where she wasn't.

You looked away from her before quickly returning your eyes. You were at a loss for words; so you did was you do best and you scrambled for something that would help your point. Or at least keep your mouth running enough to distract her.

"Well- It's uh- it's a good think he doesn't know then, because I would probably be back serving Lucy down below," you cracked a smiled at the nickname you gave the devil. Cirrus always hated how disrespectful it was, you thought it might break some tension if she shifted to that.

Her clenched jaw relaxed, making her close her eyes and inhale deeply. Opening them, you saw the faint light of her original blue, "If only you knew that Satan isn't your nightmare in this; it is yourself."

And she turned, walking away with long strides.

Cumulus and Sunshine stood there, frozen. They never liked Cirrus' attitude, it kept them tense, wondering if this would be the day that one of the ghouls finally killed another. But, I guess being able to put riddle and rhyme into her words made her calmer, because when she turned around to beckon the girls over to her, she flashed a smile at you.

They walked with her and you just let them go, following with small steps behind them, head kept leaning down.

"It is yourself."

Her words vibrated through your mind with the same venom as when she spoke them. What did she mean yourself? How could you possibly be in the wrong in this situation? Did she mean you lov- liking Dewdrop? - because maybe that was wrong of you, but how could you really fix that?

You'd tried staying away, but he always found you, hugging you against him so tight you smelled of him till you showered that night. You couldn't tell him straight out that you didn't wanna speak to him cause you liked him, then he'd get mad for you pushing him away and for liking him.

"...yourself."

You shook off those thoughts, but you wouldn't have been thinking them for long anyways, not when you felt something collide with your head. You fell back on your ass in a dazed haze, mask now crooked on your face. And as you looked up, you saw the exact person you wanted to get away from.

He laughed out loud, shoulders shaking, "I thought that you saw me and that's why you didn't stop."

You offered up a smile and a false laugh, "Yeah, I'm sorry- I- don't know where my head is right now."

His laughter faded, seeing you sitting there, hardly raising your lips to attempt at convincing him you were happy. He let a frown take over his face, and you felt a pang of guilt run through your blood.

Dewdrop held out his hand, watching you with a softened gaze, one you'd never seen from him. His human glamour hid his emotions more than his ghoul form, but seeing him show a pinch of a meaningful look settled something inside of you.

You took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Brushing off the back of your pants, you then looked up, seeing him watch you closely. You tilted your head to the side, "What? Is there something on my mask?"

Dewdrop shook his head, hands reaching up and holding the sides of your mask before pulling it off of you. You reached up, taking your hair out of it's pony and shuffling it around. Dewdrop shifted the helmet to rest in the crook of his left arm.

"You know, you're prettier without all that human facade," he mentioned, curling a hair behind your ear.

As much as Dewdrop could hide under his disguise, your expressions bled through. Your lips parted, looking at him like he was the only thing that existed. And he saw it. He saw the way your face seemed to fall in adoration, the way you looked at him with all the love in the world.

And he smiled.

It was fake. It was a faked smile. Dewdrop would hate you, he would hate you for your thoughts, for the way you truly looked at him, for the aching in your hands to reach out and touch him.

"Is there a reason why you knocked me over?" you asked, trying to find something that would keep you from the way that you blushed profusely.

Dewdrop opened his mouth, thinking for a moment before speaking, "Ah, yes, I came here to see if you wanted to go out to dinner with all of us? Papa's getting hotel rooms, he said we need a break."

You nodded, letting a genuine smile creep onto your face, "Yeah, I just need to, ya'know, get ready."

Dew moved to the side, letting you past. He waited for you before walking behind you, steps heavy to your ears. He was behind you, and you felt your spine tingle with the knowledge that, for what you knew, you were the only thing he could keep his eyes on.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked. You slowed to a stop, waiting for him to catch up next to you. You really didn't wanna look him in the eyes, not after the possibility that he saw how in lo- how much you liked him.

He flicked his hair over his shoulder, as if it blocked him from hearing you. It uncovered his face, sculpted in pure beauty. Don't look at him.

You hummed in affirmation, but that wasn't enough for him. Dewdrop grabbed your arm with a tight grip and pulled you back to look at him. He was angry, very angry. You felt the air around you heat, and you could see the color of his humanoid form starting to turn into splotches of his normal color. He was losing too much energy from his anger, it was was showing through his glamour. The air around his horns shifted in the light, glimpses of short, dark horns showing through.

And his eyes. They were bright as a star, begging you to look into them. And you complied, watching his anger spoil his disguise slowly.

"Tell me what is wrong," he hissed through gritted teeth, sharp fangs flicking in and out of reality.

You felt your resolve fall, and you let your heart stand proud, words flying out of your mouth;

"Can you stop pretending you love me for one minute!?"

Dewdrop stared down at you with a snarl. But his lip relaxed and dropped to the other, and his skin started to settle into it's pale, fake color. His hold on your arm loosened.

"What do you mean pretending? I don't have to pretend," he spoke, voice hurt in a way, "Can you stop pushing me away?"

He took your face in his hands, holding you a soft as possible. There was a moment he gave you, one where you were free to pull away, to stomp back to your dressing room.

But you didn't, you stayed there, face in his hands. And you let your core go, tears rushing out of your eyes in mere seconds. And Sodo watched the whole time, letting you cry into his touch.

He knew he loved you truly in that moment. The moment where you broke yourself, all against the battle handed to you by your own self-consciousness.

His lips touched your forehead, and you cried even harder.

•--•

Masterlist

[beauty-and-passion]

So... The Underworld Saga

It's cool. But, like, very cool. Honestly, didn't expect these songs to be such bangers, but it was a wonderful surprise, so thanks Mr. Rivera-Herrans for always delivering.

Speaking of the songs themselves:

The Underworld: I expected a slow song, more focused on silence and inner/intimate thoughts. It should've been a song about Odysseus thinking about his past and remembering.

And it was. But not the way I expected it.

Instead of focusing on silence and pondering the existence, this song is basically a scream of sadness and regret, because the ghosts of the past are literally haunting Odysseus. Beautiful, terribly awesome and perfectly coherent to the story until now: several times Odysseus said that he was haunted by his past, that he couldn't sleep at night because of what he did and we saw his choices weighing on him. It only makes sense that, once he's facing his ghosts, he doesn't face them with a slow, soft song but with screams and sadness.

And speaking of sadness: yes, I expected to hear Polites... but I didn't expect to hear Odysseus' mom! It was a very pleasant surprise, even if a heartbreaking one. And if it's true that this part was sung by Jorge's mother, then:

kudos to her voice because it's beautiful - and it makes it clear where Jorge gets his talent

kudos for making everything 20x more heartbreaking, because we literally have a mother singing to her son that she died waiting for him and loved him until the very last moment of her life and still loves him in the afterlife and he's so full of regret because he didn't manage to come back home in time and took him too long and-

_____________

No Longer You: again, another beautiful surprise. I didn't expect to like Tiresias' song this much, but the singer is amazing and I'm pleasantly surprised that Mr. Rivera-Herrans once again managed to find a very good singer.

Speaking of the song itself, I love how it drops tiny spoilers about future events in such a subtle way, by talking about betrayals, last stands and final breaths.

And then, it drops the real bomb (at least for Odysseus): a guy will come home alive, but it's not him. A guy will stay with his wife, a man "who is haunting" and "with a trail of bodies".

Odysseus doesn't realize who this guy is, but I still vividly remember King and we all know it's still him. Or, well, not this version of him.

Seriously, I LOVE this. When I listened to the first snippet of this song, I was a bit confused by Tiresias saying that Odysseus wouldn't come back home alive. Now, it's clear what he's talking about and it makes me feral because it's such a clever choice!

Think about it: if Tiresias hadn't said that Odysseus wouldn't go back home, he wouldn't have questioned himself, he wouldn't have turned into a monster and the prophecy wouldn't have been fulfilled. Hence why Tiresias had to tell Odysseus "you won't go back home alive" and "There will be a different man with your wife", so Odysseus would have the needed push to fulfill the prophecy.

It works so well, it's so perfect and logical, nnnnghhhh, I love it so much <3

And if you think it didn't work: well, Odysseus' angry "WHO?" speaks for itself. Love how it oozes pure fury, it's a perfect foreshadowing of the terror he will bring in King.

_____________

Monster: absolute banger, of course.

I love how, again, we have an introspective song that is not a simple slow ballad. On the contrary: the music perfectly accompanies every step of Odysseus' reasoning. It slows every time he questions himself, when he asks if he should change and become the monster. It grows when he realizes that, unlike him, their foes never felt any remorse for what they did. And it keeps growing along with his resolution, until it slows down again, when Odysseus finally accepts to become the monster. And that's when it ends with a deep, dark drop.

Chilling, amazing, loved every second of it <3

I also loved that a three-minute song perfectly encapsulated the full reasoning of this man. We can follow it in full and, thanks to the narration developed until now, we also perfectly understand why he reached this solution.

This is Odysseus' lowest point. After facing a ton of horrible things, after doing a ton of horrible things, he found out he would never come back home. Being human, being kind, welcoming the world with open arms didn't lead him to Ithaca: it led him to the Underworld, to Tiresias telling him he won't come back home.

Not only this is justifiable from a human point of view, but makes Tiresias' words even more important: it's thanks to them, that Odysseus finally broke and became the monster. It's the knowledge that their long travel will be for nothing, that breaks him.

And it's chilling to hear his voice getting faster and faster, his resolution growing and him literally going from "I can't kill an infant" to "If I have to do it again, I will do it immediately".

If I had high expectations before, they're way higher now. Gosh, the second act of this musical will be insane and I want to be here for it.

So, thank you again Mr. Rivera-Herrans for the delightful songs, the sweet sweet angst and the general hype. You are amazing and deserve the world.

And if any of you haven't listened to the new songs, do it: they are incredible:

[i984]

A Letter to the Yearning Moon

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: HURT HURT HURT, Stupid! Wednesday Addams, falls too late! Wednesday Addams, hates proper communication! Wednesday Addams, a rejection letter for a confession letter, this isn't even a fic, you guys will just sit there reading from first person, improper use of Greek mythology, author was sick when writing this.

|Summary|: Wednesday Addams receives a love letter.

|A/n|: I used @tundra1029 's prompt very very loosely. This goes to all of you who fell in love at the wrong time.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

An envelope.

Wednesday snatched the object from her beloved Thing.

Inside is a paper filled with letters that form words and thus string sentences together snugly beside each other. Carefully opening the folds, the ravenette's eyes trace your handwriting, your voice playing inside her mind.

My dear Selene,

Countless words have been poured on papers, yet none truly holds the power to speak my sentiments whole. Man's invention has failed me; poetry and portraits defeated by my thoughts and feelings for you. Like others before me, I'll still try to convey myself to you, and I hope by the end of this letter, we'll still be able to face each other and nod in tandem.

I loved the way you smiled. It was rare, of course, and when it finally happened, I saw before my eyes the most beautiful angel grace the earth with sweet honey and green meadows; light rain washes the world from its wrongs, and suddenly everything was so vibrant, so you.

I loved the way you laughed. It resembles the little bells adorning the bracelet I gifted you last year. In what people will deem maniacal, I find comfort and warmth, genuine glee and freedom. The things I would do to go back and listen to it again for the first time, I wouldn't regret it one bit.

I loved the way you walked. Our shoulders would brush, and my pinkie would tremble because I wanted to link it with yours. Every time, I would worry that you'll flinch and step away, or even worse; you'll tell me off, and we'll never walk together again. That never happened, and instead, I was the one who pulled away and disappeared.

I loved the way you let me into your life. To become a friend, a companion, and to let me cling to my hope of us ever becoming more. I watch you tolerate my obnoxious laughter and incessant chatter, my tasteless love poems, and the squiggly drawing of us—holding hands with our foreheads pressed together.

I loved how you hurt me gently, with no remorse or regret. When your countless 'no's proved fruitless, you just stood there and gave me less and less. I was doing the loving for the both of us, even though there wasn't an 'us' to begin with.

I loved you too much; it killed me every time I saw you, felt you, touched you, heard you, and it ruined me. The mere idea of you burns my husk with an eternal flame of suffering. Eros was laughing at me, and I hated passion and everything it stands for.

Your raven hair and pale, cold skin haunt my sleepless nights and daydreams. Your typewriter stared me down atop your desk, and I could clearly picture the image of your back and hear the clacks your fingers produced with each move.

I can see our hands accidentally touching atop that damned bookshelf every time I walk past the library. Your eyes were sunken, and your braids were messy. You looked lifeless, more than ever. And I've never hated anything more in my entire life.

It's funny—or tragic, depending on who's talking—how you, a person so impassive and emotionless, make me experience all the feelings poets and writers have sung and poured on paper. I adored love songs and loathe them now. I screamed, and I laughed, in despair and in delight.

You made me love, then hate, and I didn't understand you, me, and us.

I hated my arms that longed to hold you. I hated my fingers that wished to brush your hair loose. I hated my lips for wanting to press them onto your perfect skin. I hated my mind for yearning to understand you. I hated myself for desiring such a creature of perfection and bliss—God's gift for dirty and wretched humanity—a blade that lodges, twists, and turns the heart, and you wouldn't pull it out.

So I freed myself from your chains and whips, from the ruins and the broken pieces that were us, from the shards of glass that slit my neck and arms, and from the three words I wish to hear you repeat after.

Love was deeply tangled in hatred, and if I loved you more, I might kill you out of resentment. Instead, I killed my muse, freedom, and your half-finished portrait. And I figured that maybe that way, I could kill love, kill you.

I loved you, and in some ways, I still do. You're a great friend and a patient confidante. You're my hero and the moon I sought to glow above my bleak and numbing nights. But I've learned to love me more than you, and to love me means destroying your temple and building my own from the collapsed rock. It means painting over your mural with my favorite colors and drawing hearts on love poetries to myself.

I sprouted wings, and they blazed golden. Claiming heaven for myself, I left you down on treasured mother earth. If cruelness grew in me, I would ask you to stop feeling for me. But to fall for someone, and for you, is the greatest blessing in life, and I wish for you to experience the same.

Your words finally mirrored mine, and I pray in another life, we can love and live without fear, regret, or guilt. Until that day comes and sets us free from human prison, do settle as my fallen angel, my harbinger of death.

And maybe then, Chronos will let us meet and fall for each other together, and our story will be complete; a happy end for you and me.

I loved you, Wednesday Addams, and I am eternally grateful to have you feel the same for me now.

Sincerely,

Your foolish sun.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/n2: Did that make any sense? No. So I'll clear a few things out for you. This is a letter for someone who fell for you late. You fell so deep in love, it drives you mad, and you've confessed countless times to this person. Yet, the person doesn't reciprocate your feeling, and so you gave up. You moved on in life, and learnt to love yourself like you did this person. As Fate has it, this damned person falls in love with you after your feelings are gone, and this letter conveys that it's too late because you can't love them again, and you wish for them to figure out what one-sided love feels like, and what does it mean to love themselves in the end.

Tag list is in this post! Please interact with it accordingly if you wish to be added into it :)

[taeghi]

Tides of Regret by lee heeseung | (m) *preview*

FULL RELEASE DATE : sunday, november 19th, 2023

♫ song : swim by chase atlantic

pairing : fwb!heeseung x reader + zb1 sung hanbin x reader

summary : being magnetically attracted to frat boy lee heeseung was a bad mistake. but, agreeing to be friends with benefits with him was an even worse one. getting caught in a relentless, toxic cycle together leads to facing the consequences of your choices with a grand moment of truth. will you be able to break free from the destructive tide, or will you remain trapped in the undertow of toxic love?

warning : squirting, daddy kink, slapping, choking + more :D

part of the enhypen playlist series

taglist : ??

If there was one thing that you liked to do, it was party. You liked dancing, listening to, most of the time, shit music and hanging out with your friends. A good, any kind of party could always lift your mood. But, if there was one party you’d always try to avoid– it was frat parties. Especially the ones that were hosted at Lee Heeseung’s so-called notorious fraternity house. 

Lee Heeseung and the rest of the frat he belonged to were the embodiment of the classic frayboy archetype. And they didn’t have the best reputation. They were the self-proclaimed rulers of campus who liked to party way too much and break many hearts, especially the hearts of freshmen’s. 

So, you were understandably less than thrilled when Dayeon and Shana insisted we pay a visit to their den of debauchery this Friday night. 

Everyone who belonged in the frat were bad, but Lee Heeseung was definitely the most popular and the worst. He was all you heard about during the your freshmen year as all your friends were trying, or had hooked up with him. Now during your junior year, you hear about a new Lee Heeseung escapade at least once a week from either your friend, or overhearing it from some crying freshman in the library. 

Heeseung did not care about or who he hooked up with. As long as they were alive and had tits, he was into it. And although he had a long reputation about being a womanizer, he also had a reputation of being amazing at sex. 

Mixed along with all the broken-hearted-tears shed, there were constant rumours being spread about how easily he could make a girl cum. Which is a rare occurence with college frat boys. But everyone knew, that if you wanted to cum, go to Lee Heeseung. 

He intrigued you during the first half of your freshman year, the idea that a sophomore could make any girl cum. You fed into the rumours about his sex life, and all the kinks the fratboy allegedly took fancy of. One of those kinks being a daddy kink. Yes, a cliche one, but now, three years later, and it seems to be the only kink of his that everyone is aware of. Even your wide-eyed, almost innocent freshman friends come up to you and ask if it is true that the senior, Lee Heeseung has a daddy kink. 

You don’t know if it’s true, and you don’t want to know. You make an effort to stay away from the frat house of womanizing, except for tonight. 

“Y/n, you’ve gotta give this party a chance,” Dayeon says when she hears you sigh from your bed again. “I heard they’ve got an actual, killer DJ lined up for tonight!” 

You roll your eyes at your friend’s attempt to persuade you to want to enjoy the frat party tonight. “I don’t care about the DJ.” 

“Right, you just care about the guys who hired the DJ.” Shana smirks from her reflection in the mirror as she finishes her makeup. 

You roll over onto your stomach to look at your friend in the mirror, “I do not care about those awful frat boys, I care about the drama that seems to always follow them around. Drama, that is just not worth it.” 

Shana rolls her eyes playfully, starting to fix her black hair for the night. 

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Dayeon nudges your leg with hers, “We’ll stick together, and if Heeseung or any of the other frat guys try anything, I’ll smack them with my feminism 101 textbook.” 

You chuckle, appreciating Dayeon, “Fine, I’ll go and attempt to have fun. But if Heeseung or any of his minions come near me, I’m unleashing you, D.” 

With a grin, Dayeon jumps ontop of you, squeezing you into a bone-crushing hug. “Deal, this is gonna be a night to remember!”

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

stay safe everyone :)

[hobbit-historian]

Can I Kiss You Now?

Summary: after Y/N messes up, she goes to extreme measures to win her man back. Based off of this post here.

Song: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now by Céline Dion

Warnings: none

Gif isn’t mine.

Y/N huffed. “I just don’t understand why you can’t see my side of things! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I thought it would be easier this way!” She pinches the bridge of her nose, knuckles turning white.

Kaffee rolls his eyes. “Oh don’t try to throw this back on me! You were the one who insisted on keeping this little fact to yourself.” He made air quotes with his fingers with the last line. “Obviously this isn’t working. If we can’t even talk to each other about this stuff.” He turned around and waved his hand dismissively at Y/N. “Don’t bother calling me later. I’m going straight to bed.”

Y/N sputtered, not believing that Kaffee was just walking away from her, was just going to give up on them, just like that.

Well, she wasn’t.

Kaffee was almost out the door, fingers on the push bar, when he heard the opening notes of a song.

Not just a song.

The song.

The song that he met Y/N to, the song that played over the radio when they had first kissed, the one that she had sung that morning in his kitchen after she had stayed over for the first time.

Y/N was butchering the notes, but Kaffee could recognize Céline Dion’s “it’s all coming back to me now” anywhere. He smiled down at his shoes and then turned on his heels.

Y/N shoots him a wobbly grin as she sings, pointing straight at him. She winks, and the bar’s lights dim, stage lights swiveling to point at him. The rest of the patrons look around, confused.

Kaffee ducks his head and raises a hand in apology to those around him. A couple of the people chuckle as they realize what’s going on, but others groan as Y/N’s off-tune singing soars higher. Kaffee leans against the nearest unoccupied table.

Y/N stands on stage, feeling the barest hint of regret at choosing such a public way to win back Kaffee, especially since her singing voice sucks. She knows it, and by the grimaces on the audience’s faces, they can hear it too.

But then, something wonderful happens. The ladies who had been singing on the stage when Y/N had so rudely interrupted them joined in. Their harmonies mostly covered up Y/N’s vocals. She prayed to the God above that Kaffee would stick around for the end of the song.

She had a plan.

Much to her great joy, the further into the song she got, the closer Kaffee came to the stage. She danced on the stage, hamming the crowd up and earning a few laughs from those watching below.

Kaffee reached the bottom of the stage and Y/N leaned down, out of breath from singing. She’s dreading the notes coming next (not that she would ever be able to hit them) and so she begs first.

“Have you forgiven me yet?”

Kaffee quirked an eyebrow up and shot Y/N one of his infamous smirks. Oh, how that look made Y/N melt. But she forced herself upright and keeps singing, tipping the microphone back above her head as the high note nears. She wails it out, all air squeezed from her lungs as she puts every ounce of herself into this performance.

Kaffee chuckled under his breath and looked down at the floor.

Y/N knelt on the stage, looking back at the chorus ladies and thanking them. She sucked in oxygen, chest heaving as she watched Kaffee for a reaction.

If he walked out after this, it truly was over, things were finished between them.

Kaffee looked up and caught Y/N’s gaze. He motioned her forward. She leaned in, face inches from his.

Silence hangs throughout the bar, all chatter gone as everyone waits for Kaffee’s response.

Y/N spies the twinkle in his eye. Knowing that he wasn’t going to respond, Y/N breathlessly asked, “can I kiss you now?”

There’s a beat after the question where Y/N thinks that she truly has failed, that Kaffee is going to walk away, but then he’s grabbing her face and pulling her close. His lips are pressed on Y/N’s and she’s balancing on the lip of the stage and everything’s messy and loud and not at all how Y/N thought her apology would go. But the crowd was cheering and clapping and the chorus ladies were squealing and hopping behind her as they watched the kiss unfold.

Kaffee pulled away and shot Y/N another melting grin. “Apology accepted.” She giggles and leans her forehead on his, eternally grateful that her stupid silly plan had worked.

[sleepless-in-southlands]

in a vision, your body told me it had always been afraid

Ao3

Summary: As far as Luke had ever been concerned, his power of prophecy had only ever been, and only ever would be, a curse. Knowing the future was useless and painful when he wasn't allowed to do anything about it, especially when the future shoved Inscryption into his hands, already bloodied. When he drops into Hermitcraft, however, things change. Maybe his curse can too. Content: AU (of an AU), hurt/comfort; prophets/prophecy, secret identity, mistaken identity, watchers, a luke who is both very on top of things And very oblivious, getting together Pairings: Lucky Jumbo (Luke Carder/Mumbo Jumbo), Luke Carder & Grian Notes: This is an AU of my AU, Lucky Jumbo, and is part of the MCU (Mumbo Carder Universe)! Knowledge of Inscryption, HC, and/or Lucky Jumbo isn't necessary to read this, but they may help. Spoilers for all three will be present to some degree, so reader beware

~

Knock, knock.

Luke glanced tiredly in the direction of his front door, well aware of who was knocking on it like it had offended them, well aware of what would happen when he went to answer it, well aware he couldn’t change any of it. Not for the first time (but likely the last), he wished he hadn’t dug up the damned game that had led him to his penultimate moment of regret.

Not that he really had any say in the matter. Luke was all too familiar with just how self-fulfilling his prophecies could be when he tried to avoid them. His sister’s death was as much his fault as it wasn’t, and neither interpretation brought him any relief.

Luke pushed himself to his feet, a choir of sirens singing a mourning song in a background only he could hear. He couldn’t actually wait as long as he wanted to face the reaper, nice as it would be. The reporter’s words, crackly and mumbled through his phone’s speaker, were echoing the ones he had heard barely a week before. He had hoped that particular vision had been another corrupted one- the madness of a prophet and the madness of Inscryption did not mix well- but deep down he had known otherwise. He always knew otherwise.

He hadn’t had a vision since, which had been the final nail in his pre-built coffin. His vision-self opened the door, and then all was dark, as he hoped it would be forever after. There were many myths about what became of prophets after death, few pleasant, and Luke… Luke was tired. He wanted rest, and with Inscryption dogging his feet, he knew that Amanda might be his only true chance for it.

Luke moved to his door almost on autopilot, pushing aside his thoughts as best he could. The more he thought of what was coming, the more his head hurt, and it was about to be doing enough of that all on its own. He paused for a single, final breath.

Luke opened the door.

Amanda shot him in the head.

Blood-red curtains spilled across the floor and ended the scene, and Luke knew nothing, not even peace.

~

Luke had to give it to the universe. It was the reason he was cursed, and yet it had still managed to deliver a twist he hadn’t seen coming.

Namely: life, continuing, but in some weird, alternate universe that somehow made less sense than Luke walking into his own elaborately planned death of arcing madness. Listen, knowing ahead of time that first person you met in your new world (a man with no visible mouth, a glorious moustache, and an extremely high tolerance for being fallen on top of from heights that should have killed both him and Luke) was going to start beating up a tree for its wood didn’t make it any less painful and perplexing to witness.

Because of course Luke’s curse had to follow him into his new life of cubes and code. It had adapted, even, his foresight shifting from overlapping voices that sung like a greek chorus and screamed like horror movie victims into floating, digital words, draping themselves over the edges of the world around him and sliding off his back like a cape of fortune. Quieter, but not silent, as evidenced by the warbled laughter that had come alongside the head’s-up that his attempt to fly would end in pyrotechnical disaster, the wind that cooed like a bird when he took Mumbo’s hand.

Presumably his visions had followed him as well, but they were more infrequent. Luke couldn’t be surprised he hadn’t had one after only a few weeks in Hermitcraft, even if he wished the reveal would get itself over with. Foresight was annoying, but Luke could tune it out, had spent a life perfecting how to do so. Visions were unpredictable. Visions were debilitating if they were severe enough. Luke needed to know if he was still going to have them so he could start preparing excuses for when a hermit inevitably caught him having one.

Which he hadn’t, at first, thought would be a problem. People had mixed feelings about prophets in his old world (his old life), including quite a bit of debate over whether or not they really existed, but they were generally accepted. Respected by some, dismissed by others, but treated within a fairly normal range. There were extremists groups, but Luke rarely felt like his life was more at threat from fellow people than it ever was from his curse. Amanda included.

But Hermitcraft…

(“Do you guys have prophets here?”

Luke’s fellow Boatem members looked at him with varying levels of confusion, conveyed to varying levels of accuracy via their varying levels of full facial structure. They were all sitting down together after one of Luke’s Boatem tours, having originally begun with only Mumbo and himself before the rest of the group slowly joined in on the wanderings and build-describings. They had finished at the Boatem hole, and Luke had opted to have the group seat themselves a healthy distance from it, doing his best to avoid having to tumble into the hole on his foresight’s command.

“...Profits?” Scar repeated, and Luke appreciated the way his newly visual foresight allowed him to pick up on the translation issue immediately. “In Boatem? I’m a little insulted you have to ask, Luke.”

“No, not diamond profits, I mean like oracles. Or seers?” Luke offered, frowning at the hermits’ continued confusion.

“I… don’t think so?” Pearl offered after a moment of consideration. “Are those villager classes?”

“Not exactly.” Luke answered, taking his own time to try and think of a minecraft-friendly description. “It’s… something a player can be. No one’s really sure how they work, uh, but they’re able to see the future. Predict something that’s going to happen, that sort of thing. I didn’t know if-”

Luke cut himself off. His foresight was humming, swirling past him, encircling Grian with predictions of what he would say next, what he would do, and Luke didn’t need the words to tell him how tense the mouthless hermit had gotten.

“Something a player could be?” Grian repeated. The question was rhetorical, but the words curling under Luke’s chin told him he nodded, so he did. “Were they… were they common?”

“...No.” Luke said slowly, because he felt like he should, because he knew he should. “They were rare. Not everyone agreed on if they even existed.”

Some of the tension seeped out of Grian, shoulders slumping incrementally, but not much. He stood up, Luke’s predictions rising with him, hanging like golden chains off his red sweater. “No. Hermitcraft doesn’t have them.”

Luke watched as Grian turned on his heel, then, walking away from the group, Luke’s foresight clinging until it faded into the sunlight.

Pearl sighed and stood up as well. “I’ll go talk to him.” She told the group, Mumbo and Scar more so than Luke, before going off as she said she would, as Luke’s foresight confirmed she would.

“I’m… sorry?” Luke said after a moment of silence. Occasionally, his foresight would tell him the why of something, but it wasn’t a guarantee. Grian walking off at the mention of oracles had been predicted, but not explained.

Mumbo bumped Luke’s shoulder from where he was sitting next to him. The words swirling there scattered at the point of contact, as though touching a non-prophet would be treasonous to their accursed seer. “Don’t be. Grian’s not upset, just…”

“I think we have a different word for your… prophets.” Scar finished for Mumbo, glancing in the direction Grian and Pearl had gone. “They can be a sore subject for some hermits.”

“Oh.” Luke pulled his arms closer to himself, tucking in his visual foresight as best he could, as if Mumbo and Scar would suddenly be able to see it if he didn’t. “I’ll avoid mentioning them, then.”

“That may be for the best.”)

Luke sighed at the memory. He couldn’t be too surprised that Hermitcraft, a place that was weird but ultimately wonderful, a server filled with kind hermits who took in a complete stranger like it was nothing, would just happen to be a world where prophets were… he didn’t even know what. Something bad. Something unspoken. It would have been too easy, too kind, of the universe to simply provide Luke with a perfect new life, no questions asked, no cost except a bullet through his skull he could taste in the back of his mouth on bad mornings.

Of course, if the universe had really wanted to be kind, it would have taken away his powers in the first place. If Luke had expected anything but tricks and hidden catches, it was his own fault for not reading the writing on his back.

But Luke would be fine. He knew how to react to his foresight without making it clear he had foresight. He hadn’t had a vision yet, and he trusted in his ability to make something up if he got caught having one. All Luke had to do was keep his predictions under wraps, and he would be fine.

Well, that and avoid hurting Mumbo, but Luke thought that had been an unnecessary demand to deliver to him via threatening circle. He didn’t think he gave the impression he wanted to hurt his first hermit friend. When Grian had first cornered Luke, he had thought his secret had been found out, that somehow Grian knew.

But no. What Grian ‘knew’ was something Luke didn’t understand, and vice versa. It hadn’t stopped Luke’s foresight from chittering at him like grinding metal, suggesting it too knew something Luke didn’t, which Luke didn’t think was technically possible.

Knock, knock.

Luke’s thoughts tore themselves up like tissue paper at the sound of someone knocking, his visual foresight briefly flashing red at him in an ironically too-late warning. He knew it wasn’t Amanda at the door, knew it wouldn’t matter if it was, but Hermitcraft still had headaches, and prophets weren’t immune to fear.

“Luke?” Mumbo called out after a minute of no answer. Luke huffed, both in relief and some minor level of self-abashment at letting the old prediction get to him.

“Come in!” Luke yelled back as he got up from where he had been sitting and contemplating at his kitchen table. He knew he needed to start adapting into his new life, spend his time learning things like ‘how to build architectural miracles’ and ‘what to do when you inevitably get lost in a mine,’ but he had yet to do much more than exist and wait to exist while doing something with other hermits. Mostly Mumbo.

Mumbo, as invited, let himself in, moustache-smiling at Luke when he saw him. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Luke waved off the thought, words of the future scattering honey-light only he could see on his fingers as he did so. “Not at all, I was just distracted. How can I help you?”

The words crawling the backs of Luke’s hands answered him before Mumbo did. “I was thinking about exploring some further out world generation, see if I could find a new village or a shipwreck, nothing too exciting. Wanted to know if you’d like to tag along.”

“How much flying will be involved?”

Mumbo laughed at Luke’s immediate off-the-bat question. It sounded much better coming from him than it did reading it. “A little, to get far enough out and to get back, but nothing else. And I promise I’ll guide you.”

“As long as I don’t have to handle the fireworks myself, I’m in.” Luke said, doing a quick check of his inventory to make sure he had his elytra and enough golden carrots to feed several armies. “Anything we should handle before leaving, or…?”

“I’m ready to go when you are.” Mumbo answered, still smiling at Luke in a way he couldn’t help but return.

“Then let’s go.”

The flight out was, thankfully, fairly unexciting. Luke didn’t entirely trust Mumbo’s ‘redstone-improved’ wings, but his foresight didn’t reveal them suddenly exploding mid-flight, so Luke was able to mostly put the concern to the back of his mind. Mumbo’s guiding help remained masterful, and although the flight was a bit longer than the one to Boatem had been, his grip on Luke’s hand never once faltered.

(Again, Luke’s foresight had murmured the nonsense of a whale song when Luke took Mumbo’s hand. Again, Luke couldn’t fathom as to why. His foresight seemed to be teasing him- which, was it even supposed to do that? was it allowed?- but Luke didn’t think it had any reason to be doing so. Holding Mumbo’s hand was nice, not funny.)

When they landed, it was on the edge of a forest, flowers of all kinds and colours dotting the land around and between the trees. Luke surveyed the area while Mumbo put away his wings, having started being more careful with how he tucked them in his pocket since he caught Luke’s wide-eyed stare at the way he usually shoved them into his inventory. Luke’s foresight told him Mumbo’s behaviour hadn’t changed in general, that it was an adjustment made specifically around him, which Luke greatly appreciated.

“This looks like a good place to start.” Mumbo said, slightly unnecessarily, as he finished his task.

Luke hummed his agreement, waiting for Mumbo to pick their starting direction before falling into line beside him. To Luke’s understanding, exploration so ‘late in the season’ (as Mumbo kept putting it) was more for enjoyment and adventure than it was any specific use, since the general ‘main area’ for the server had already been set up and developed by that point. A lack of importance came with a lack of pressure, and Luke enjoyed how simple and casual that allowed the trip to be.

“Did you have these flowers on your old server, too?” Mumbo asked once they were deeper into the forest, trees surrounding them. He had been naming some of the flowers for Luke, pointing them out in case he couldn’t match name to flora. A sweet, if unneeded, gesture when Luke’s arms dripped with honeyed predictive descriptions.

“We did.” Luke answered, watching the bulbs of a blue orchid sway like neon bells under its own weight. “They look different here, though.”

“Bad different?”

“No, not bad.” Luke reassured quickly. “These ones are incredible.”

“Aren’t they?” Mumbo mumbled, seemingly mostly to himself, tone slightly awed. Luke had moments of foresight often, but not always, and when he turned to look at Mumbo he did so with no glowing golden guidance. He found that he must have been blocking Mumbo’s view of one flower or another, the redstoner looking as though his focus was only on Luke.

Luke tried to take a small step back, hoping to get out of the way, but Mumbo’s gaze only followed his movement, laughing a little. Luke, caught off guard and not entirely sure what was happening, did nothing but watch as Mumbo bent down, picked the blue orchid nearest to him, and approached Luke.

“I know some servers have wilting mods,” Mumbo started as he began tucking the cerulean flower into the front pocket of Luke’s shirt, the same white collared one he had died in having followed him alongside his curse, “but we don’t. So this will stay perfectly lively even in your pocket.”

“Oh.” Luke said, in lieu of anything meaningful, tilting his head down to see the way Mumbo had arranged the naturally drooping flowers against his chest, their bright colour making it clear they were alive no matter what position they slumped into. Though he was done with the flowers, Mumbo continued adjusting Luke’s shirt, fixing his collar and tugging on the sleeves to straighten them. Which meant, of course, that when Luke looked up, Mumbo was right there, still looking at him and much closer than he had been before.

“How do you like it?” Mumbo asked, and while it could never be said that Luke ever wished for his curse to be on him, he could acknowledge that it wouldn’t have been the worst thing ever if his foresight had been active right then, feeding him answers he wasn’t entirely certain he had the wherewithal to produce on his own in that moment. Something about Mumbo being so close was throwing Luke off, disrupting his thoughts.

It wasn’t as unpleasant as it should have been, conceptually.

“It’s… nice.” Luke offered after too long. A point in his favour on the ‘hiding being a prophet’ front- no seer would have taken so long to give such a simple response. “I mean- they’re pretty. Especially if they won’t die.”

“So you like them?” Mumbo moustache-smiled again, and despite everything else he wasn’t following, Luke was capable of smiling back.

“Yeah, Mumbo, I like them. Thank you.”

Mumbo’s smile grew at that, and he looked as though he wanted to say something more but was hesitant, needed to be sure of it. Luke was happy to wait, would have been happy to wait, but it was at that moment his foresight decided to make a reappearance.

The bright yellow text, matching the orchid in intensity, trickled across the sky beside Mumbo’s head to provide Luke with a warning he couldn’t properly issue: a creeper, already visible over Mumbo’s shoulder, having successfully sidled up to them in their distraction. By the time Mumbo noticed it, it would be too late, and the blast would kill him and severely injure Luke. A tragic and sudden end to what had been a pleasant outing.

The prophecy didn’t have Luke saying anything, modeling him as having been too distracted to have noticed the oncoming threat, only doing so at all because of his curse. Luke however, admittedly somewhat mentally unbalanced, unthinkingly said, “Creeper.”

Not that it would matter. His prophecies could flex when necessary, to bend back into the path they were meant to follow. Mumbo would blow up slightly more aware of the creeper than he had been originally, but he would still blow up, and Luke would still end up stranded with a long walk home ahead of him.

Case in point: Mumbo’s eyes quickly widening, him turning around to spot the creeper, the creeper already beginning to flash white, Mumbo moving quicker than Luke had yet seen him do to grab Luke’s arm and pull them both out of the blast radius-

Wait.

What?

Luke blinked rapidly, as if that would cause his vision to change and clear, to reveal his prophecy having occurred as intended and letting him explain away hallucinating otherwise as a moment of madness. It didn’t, however; all it revealed was the creeper, having not exploded, approaching him and Mumbo once more, and Mumbo looking at Luke like his third eye had become visible.

“Luke? Luke, are you alright?” Mumbo asked him, sounding worried as he slowly kept pulling Luke backwards with him, keeping a safe distance between them and the creeper. He had pulled his sword, which Luke knew he didn’t want to use, but he looked like he might if Luke didn’t snap back into the conversation soon.

“You weren’t… you weren’t supposed to do that.” Luke murmured, not needing to see Mumbo’s face, not needing to read his foresight to know that was possibly the least comforting response he could have offered. He sounded dazed, half-there, which was accurate, but not exactly the image he needed to portray right then.

“Luke?” Mumbo repeated, softer, as if he wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. Around his wrists, Luke watched his foresight continue on, shaping itself to fit the new reality. Now, Mumbo, panicking about a mostly unresponsive Luke and having no other option, kills the creeper, breaking his no-kill streak so he could eliminate the threat and focus on properly assessing the situation.

Luke looked over at Mumbo, watched him glance rapidly between himself and the green mob, watched him tighten his grip on his sword. Something in Luke’s gut twisted painfully. He didn’t want to be the reason Mumbo lost his self-set challenge, even if he didn’t fully understand it, even aside from the fact Grian might then kill him for it, but it was foretold, it was prophesied, and Luke’s sight gave him the ability to know but never touch, never change, never alter.

Except… he had. Mumbo had. Luke had given a warning and Mumbo had saved them, had shifted what was supposed to happen, and his foresight had followed. In his old world, seers were powerless in face of their fortunes, meant to record and report and never rewrite. But here… here….

Before he could think it any further through, Luke dug his hand into his pocket, the handle of his own sword settling into his grasp with barely a thought. The sudden movement startled Mumbo, enough that Luke was able to pull his arm from Mumbo’s gasp with relative ease, moving quicker than his thoughts could follow as he took two running steps up to the creeper and slashed it across its chest.

Nothing exploded. No godly figure appeared in a blaze of terrifying glory to smite Luke for wrongdoing against the oath he had never signed up for. The creeper didn’t magically bounce off of Luke’s blade and onto Mumbo’s in a deadly strike.

Instead, the creeper fell back slightly, as was to be expected. Mumbo stayed back, sword at the ready but lowered. Luke’s foresight changed, shimmering as it looped itself around his arm, his hand, his sword and told him of the new future he was plunging into- Luke, victorious against the creeper, victorious against fate.

That prophecy Luke brought to fruition, swinging until the creeper was gone, leaving behind nothing but the smell of mulch and an oddly well-stacked pile of gunpowder.

Luke, for his part, stopped moving as soon as the creeper was dead, standing in place and letting the sharp edges of his sword droop into the grass and dirt. He was panting slightly, staring uncomprehendingly at the mob drop. Mumbo hadn’t died, hadn’t broken his no-kill streak. Luke hadn’t been severely injured. The creeper hadn’t detonated. His foresight, still yellow, still golden, still present, rustled like crystal leaves from where it pooled on the ground around his sword. Luke had changed his prophecy.

Luke had changed the future.

With loud, deliberate steps, Mumbo came to stand next to Luke, pausing for a moment before setting a hand on Luke’s shoulder, as if afraid anything too fast, too sudden, too much would scare him out of his skin. “Luke?”

Luke forced himself to take in a deep breath, hoping he only imagined it when yellow smoke tinged the following release of air. “Sorry, Mumbo, I don’t… I don’t know what happened there.”

“It’s alright, I just… want to make sure you’re alright.” Mumbo said, staring at the way Luke was still gripping his sword a little too tightly. “I take it you don’t fight much?”

“You can say that again.”

“I certainly understand that feeling.” Mumbo chuckled, putting his own sword away and shifting his grip to be around Luke’s upper arm, light and grounding. “Do you want to head back to Boatem? Since this d- trip hasn’t been quite as peaceful as I promised.”

Luke looked to his pocket, drawn by the shine of prophetic words outlining his blue orchid, telling him to say yes, to say let’s go back, to say we can continue another time.

Luke looked to Mumbo, expression sweet and worried, waiting patiently for Luke’s response, completely and blessedly unaware that it had already been decided upon.

“It was only one creeper.” Luke said, pocketing his sword before laying the newly freed hand over the orchid’s stem. He smiled at Mumbo, ignoring the rearrangements of his foresight. “If we see another huge spider though, I’m turning around and sprinting all the way back to Boatem.”

Mumbo laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He responded, guiding Luke with a slight tug to continue on in the direction they had been going before the near-explosive interruption. Luke followed him easily, words more malleable than Luke had ever known trailing behind him like a cloak.

~

At first, outside of what had happened while he was out exploring with Mumbo, Luke avoided trying to alter his prophecies. It wasn’t something prophets were supposed to do- not that Luke had ever thought that was any fair, to hold prophets to promises none of them had chosen to make- and it wasn’t something that could be done. Prophecies, those of foresight and visions, were unchangeable because the future was unchangeable, set in stone, destined. Trying to avoid them only ever ended up bringing them about- Luke had read the Greek tragedies, the news, the obituaries. He knew better than to mess with the future, knew better than to try.

And yet… Luke couldn’t help but want to. It wasn’t a moment of hubris, the desire to escape the inescapable that nearly all oracles experienced at some point. It had happened. He had gone against one of his prophecies and it had worked- not just one, but three.

If prophets were treated differently in Hermitcraft than they were where Luke came from, why couldn’t the same be true for their prophecies? That might explain why seers were taboo. To predict an unchanging future was one thing, but to have the power to alter it, to shape it?

So, of course, Luke started going against his prophecies.

They were little changes, for the most part; a slightly different sentence, a step to the left instead of the right. Nothing that would seem out of place to the other hermits, especially given none of them knew what was ‘supposed’ to be happening. His visual foresight always changed to predict the new future, and Luke always eventually followed it, but the prophecies did change. Luke wasn’t trapped. For the first time in possibly his entire life (lives), Luke’s sight wasn’t a curse.

And because of it… Luke got sloppy. It was his fault. Hadn’t he already known, already told himself that the universe wouldn’t give him any free favours? That just because he couldn’t see it, didn’t mean there wasn’t a trick hiding in the background?

Luke’s foresight told him everything that was about to happen within his sphere of interaction, not everything that was happening at every given moment. It didn’t inform him of things going on around him unless he noticed- or was going to notice- them. It didn’t tell Luke about the way Grian had started to watch him, didn’t tell Luke about the growing suspicion in Grian’s eyes, didn’t tell Luke that Grian had noticed something.

It didn’t tell Luke anything until Grian was pulling a sword on him.

The attack had come out of nowhere, Grian having originally pulled Luke into a discussion about block palettes that Luke had, truthfully, only been half-following. He had been distracted, autopiloting his half of the conversation, when there was suddenly a sharp, loud noise, like a bell being struck by lightning.

It had come from his foresight, a warning he could actually act on- Grian, drawing his sword with no preamble, stabbing Luke through the chest.

Luke’s eyes widened. Grian’s arm twitched. Without thinking, Luke stepped quickly to the side, and Grian’s blade cut through nothing but air.

Luke’s foresight dutifully began to change, rewriting itself alongside the new future, but Luke didn’t need to read it to know what it was going to tell him. Luke had avoided a surprise attack before it had begun. There was only one way he could have done that, and given the way Grian’s expression had hardened, they both knew exactly what way that was.

“I can explain.” Luke said immediately, aware he had no chance of maintaining a pretense. Grian’s initial response was to swing at him again, Luke dodging a second early.

“Do I look like I want to hear your explanation?” Grian’s tone was venomous, his diamond blade glinting in the sun as he continued going after Luke. In counter, Luke’s foresight had wrapped itself around the sword, bright yellow moving a breath before the blue beneath, showing Luke when and how to move even as each word wrote a story of being cut.

“It’s- it’s different where I’m from!” Wind against the back of Luke’s neck as he ducked a high swing. “I didn’t realize-”

“You didn’t realize?” Grian echoed, mocking, disbelieving. “You- what- you came to Hermitcraft by accident? You moved into Boatem without processing the player names there? You started flirting with Mumbo out of pointless happenstance?”

“Flirting?!”

Grian briefly abandoned trying to slice Luke up, instead ramming an arm in his direction. Luke dodged most of the hit, but he stumbled when Grian made contact with his shoulder, only barely missing the next swing. He could see the future, but that didn’t mean Luke had good reflexes. He couldn’t avoid Grian’s attacks forever.

“By Code, I should have never let you get this far.” Grian showed no signs of stopping soon, if ever. “I don’t know what your plans here were, and I don’t care. You’re not invulnerable. None of you are. If I have to be the first one to prove it, if that’s what it takes to get you all to leave me alone, I will.”

“Luke?! Grian?!”

Mumbo’s words were predicted, but Luke still swiveled his head hard in the direction of his voice. He had been walking, going about his day casually, but he had broken into a run at the sight of the in-process violent homicide.

Looking away proved to be a mistake within a second, however, Luke’s arm suddenly beginning to burn. Grian had finally landed a hit.

Instinctively, Luke slapped his hand over the wound, pain being overridden by terror when he realized the site of the injury was warm and sticky. He looked down, hoping that somehow both his intuition and foresight would be wrong.

He wasn’t. Beading from the cut, clogging under his hand, dripping down his arm was blood. Crimson, liquid blood.

(“Do hermits not… bleed?” Luke asked, tentative, as he watched Mumbo pull an arrow out of his arm with the same level of concern as Luke would treat a splinter with.

“Not naturally, no.” Mumbo answered in a way that felt much too normal. “Blood mods are pretty common, but Hermitcraft doesn’t have one. Did yours?”

“We did.” Luke confirmed, ignoring the copper-like taste coating his mouth. “I think I’ll enjoy not having it anymore, though.”

Mumbo chuckled. “It’s certainly less messy.”)

Grian had stopped actively slashing at Luke, eyes wide when Luke looked up. Mumbo, having reached the two of them, wore a similar expression of shock.

“Luke-” Grian started haltingly. Luke took a step back.

“I’m sorry.” Luke said as genuinely as he could manage before turning on his heel and sprinting in the opposite direction.

He heard someone call his name again as he ran, but he didn’t stop, hastily digging his hands into his pockets to grab his elytra and emergency fireworks. Luke’s foresight jumped ahead of him, caution signs keeping pace with him, telling him yes, this time you will fly, go, do it now.

Luke went airborne with only a little difficulty, wobbling in the air but managing to avoid crashing into anything as he went up. He didn’t hear any other rockets going off behind him, which meant he wasn’t being followed- good. He had no chance of out-flying any of the other hermits, especially Grian, who used his elytra like it was a pair of actual wings.

Granted, Luke hardly had any sort of plan, but step one of it whenever he figured it out was definitely ‘don’t get killed.’ Step two, he decided, mid-air and hurtling aimlessly off in one direction, was to find a chunk of land far enough away from the inhabited ones to hide away on and form the rest of his plan. Hermitcraft went as far as any player could go in every direction- it would take them a while to find Luke, unless they got truly lucky, and Luke would theoretically have foresight to protect him from their approach.

With that ‘plan’ in mind, Luke set off another firework, continuing until he was far, far past the point that he could see any hermit-built structures.

He didn’t decide upon a stopping point so much as it decided upon him, his foresight having scattered in the air and leaving him defenseless against dipping low at the exact wrong moment and accidentally slamming his leg into the edge of a hilltop. Sure, arguably, he should have been able to see it coming on his own but- well- he was distracted.

Luke rolled down the hill, elytra folding up and saving itself as he tumbled. By the time he came to a stop, he was sore all over, blood from his cut arm smeared across some of the grass. He pushed himself into a seated position, shucking off his elytra and banishing it into his inventory along with his remaining rockets. If he needed them, he would get them, but the wings were heavy on his aching back and the fireworks would never not be dangerous to Luke.

Luke exchanged the flying gear for one of his many golden carrots, nibbling on the metallic first-aid vegetable and returning to his barely-started plan. The most obvious next step was to get out of Hermitcraft, make it to the ‘server hub’ he had occasionally heard mentioned and disappear into a different world, but what was much less obvious was how, exactly, he could pull it off.

While Mumbo and some of the other hermits had asked Luke about his former server, tried to see if there was anywhere he needed or wanted to go back to, Luke had known there was no point in attempting to find a way back. Even if his old life really had been on some ‘heavily modded server,’ Luke knew his time on it had ended. Permanently. As long as the hermits had been happy to have Luke, Luke had been happy to stay in Hermitcraft.

Luke didn’t regret his decision, but it certainly was coming back to haunt him right then, sitting on a plain in the middle of generated nowhere with no way out. He might have had a chance to get a quick ticket out if he had gone directly from Hermitcraft to Xisuma and convinced voi to take him to the server hub, but he had lost too much time getting away. Grian had likely already told every other hermit what he had learned, Xisuma probably the first on the list after the already-present Mumbo. All the hermits were protective of their server and servermates, and Luke knew that went double for the admin. The chance that voi would want to help a prophet who had kept their identity a secret until a forced reveal? Zero. None. Nil. Luke was on his own, which narrowed his options significantly.

Then again, all the best oracles were cave-dwelling exiles, right? Luke could make that work, assuming the hermits would eventually get tired of looking for him, which… didn’t seem terribly likely.

Luke finished off his carrot. His cut had closed, and his bruises had abated, but the ache from all of them remained. Along with those pains, there was another building behind his temple, one that was awfully familiar in a way Luke had hoped he would never experience again.

And to top it all off- the universe once more reminding Luke that it wasn’t his friend in the slightest, not even a friendly acquaintance, despite all the wisdom it was constantly dumping directly into his skull- that was when Luke saw two figures gliding across the sky above him.

The plain offered Luke no place to hide, so he wasn’t too surprised when they immediately honed in on him, dropping a bit suddenly into a landing a short distance across from him. Luke shoved himself to his feet, hoping to use their landing time as a small headstart for himself, but the leg that had slammed into the hill protested his haste and brought him right back down to the ground. Now he wasn’t just a prophet, he was a clumsy prophet too. Great. Super. Was one death with dignity too much to ask for?

Escape foiled, Luke turned to face the hermits, unsurprised to find them to be Mumbo and Grian. Mumbo was closer to him, putting his elytra away (so carefully) but keeping his eyes on Luke, moustache frowning in what the distance had Luke mistaking for concern. Grian was to Mumbo’s side, several blocks behind him, glancing between Luke and his communicator in his hand.

“We’ve found him.” Grian said to his communicator which, wonderful, Luke hadn’t been gone an hour and the server was already on some sort of manhunt for him. “No, I think we- I think Mumbo has this. Yeah, we’ll let you know if we need help.”

Luke shifted his focus to Mumbo as Grian finished his call. He looked miserable. Grian sounded miserable. Luke felt miserable. A+ work, universe.

“You guys got here faster than I expected.” Luke said, shooting for a neutral, unaffected tone that he doubted he achieved.

“We asked Xisuma to find your coords.”

Luke swallowed, feeling nauseous in a way that didn’t entirely have to do with the fact that he was well and truly screwed, both unable to leave Hermitcraft and unable to hide from its inhabitants. He got to his feet, going slower, not missing the way both Mumbo and Grian tracked his movements, ready for him to try and run. “Listen, I- I don’t know how to leave servers, but if you show me how to, I promise, I’ll go. You don’t have to see me again. I won’t come back. You don’t- I’ll go, I’ll just go.”

Mumbo’s frown deepened. He took a step forward. Luke took a step back, and Mumbo stopped moving. Grian stayed motionless where he was.

“Luke.” Mumbo said his name placatingly, calmingly, worriedly, which was not the combination of emotions Luke was expecting to hear in any capacity. Anger, disgust, disappointment- those felt more appropriate for the situation. “There’s been a misunderstanding. We don’t want you to leave.”

Ah. That was it. Mumbo- sweet, friendly, first-hermit-to-befriend-Luke Mumbo- hadn’t believed Grian when he revealed that Luke was a prophet. He thought there was a misunderstanding. That’s why Grian hadn’t started attacking Luke on sight; he was waiting for Luke to play his hand, show his cards, to give Mumbo the proof that would validate Grian when he did go back to slashing and hacking.

Well, they had come at the perfect time for exactly that, if the ringing beginning to build in Luke’s ears was anything to go by. His foresight might have changed in the transition between worlds, but his visions seemingly had not. Luke had a minute or two, at best, before he would be too caught up in the vision to do anything in the line of covering it up or defending himself from swords.

“For the record, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to trick you all.” Luke said, voice getting tight as his headache worsened. Maybe, if he was pitiable enough, they wouldn’t kill him mid-vision. He wasn’t sure what that would look like, and he wasn’t particularly interested in finding out.

“You didn’t trick us.” Mumbo assured him, rocking on his feet as though he wanted to step forward again but was holding off. “Are you- are you okay?”

Luke raised a shaky hand to his head. The skin of his temple was burning, the world around him was beginning to spin, his throat was closing in on itself. Luke shut his eyes, and under his eyelids, everything was golden. “No.”

Presumably, that was the moment Luke collapsed, the strain of the vision disconnecting Luke from his body and leaving it to fend for itself as he learned its prophecy.

Unfettered from the demands of his physical body (free from ‘mortal needs,’ from his ‘human half’ as some people would put it, those who considered prophets to be the middlemen between humanity and divinity), Luke was able to receive the vision in its full form. Segments of time, glimpses of triple-digit dimensions, sensations that no language could describe bombarded him, a fortune so detailed it would take Luke four dictionaries worth of pages to write it all down, all overlaid with the only words Luke was allowed to speak, a single spec of sand out of a beach full of information. There was a reason all prophets went mad, and it was contained in the break-neck juxtaposition between the future they knew and the future they were permitted to speak.

Purple eyes surrounded Luke in the space of the vision, the space in his mind torn out to make room for his curse, all wide and watching and never blinking. The darkness swallowing them bent, distorted, claws forming to jump out at Luke, scratching and grasping, obsidian nails painting bloody divots across his chest. One hand held one purple eye, twisting and snarling, burning up mauve, magenta, merlot. Blood dripped from the corner of the eye, honey fed from Luke’s own wrists, scabbed over in useless words of gold. The captured eye turned to stare directly at Luke, and fearfully the other eyes closed out of existence. The captured eye said nothing. The captured eye said sorry. Luke, hand drenched in amber guilt, reached out towards it.

Luke opened his eyes.

Time was meaningless in the thralls of a vision. As far as Luke knew, it could have been a minute since it began, or it could have been hours. The sun was still in the sky, and Luke was still on the plain he had crashed into, but even those indicator variables felt useless. Luke could have been there, trapped in the vision, for days.

What didn’t feel useless, however, was Mumbo, sitting with Luke tucked against his side, an arm swung comfortingly across Luke’s shoulders while Luke’s head lolled on the top of his chest. He was warm.

Across from the two of them was Grian, standing up and squeezing his communicator so hard it seemed liable to crack and shatter in his grasp. He was closer than he had been earlier, before Luke’s vision, but not close. Looking at Grian, a sense of inhuman understanding settled in Luke’s gut, weighty and unignorable: the vision was for him.

Luke sat up, stiff and sudden, Mumbo’s arm falling off his shoulders in the process. He stared directly at Grian, whose eyes were wide in the face of Luke’s, blinding sunlight in perfect circles. Luke opened his mouth, smoke the colour of sulfur spilling out before he said a word.

“In three days time, a thousand eyes of violet violence shall descend upon you,” Luke intoned in a voice that was borrowed and stolen and entirely his, “lured by power they’ll seek to know but never will. Your server you will save, but not yourself, nor your false enemy of unmalleable gold.”

Prophecy delivered, Luke slumped back into the exact position he had been arranged in, exhaustion coursing through him like it had replaced his blood. Mumbo tucked his arm around Luke once more without question.

Grian, for his part, looked the same way most people did when they received one of Luke’s prophecies: angry and terrified.

“When you first came to Boatem, and you were asking us about prophets,” Mumbo was the first to break the silence that followed Luke’s prediction, his words half-rumble in Luke’s ears, “you asked because you’re one, didn’t you?”

Luke nodded, sliding his head against Mumbo’s chest. He had been long since found out; the vision was a last shovelful of dirt over an already buried coffin. Lying wouldn’t do him any good (telling the truth wouldn’t either but then, what did it matter? might as well go out honest). “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t- you don’t need to apologize.” Grian said, voice uncertain, as though he didn’t know if he was saying the right thing. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have- well-”

Luke wondered, idly, what Grian’s intended end of sentence was supposed to be. ‘Sorry for not killing you fast enough?’ Luke would have accepted it. If he had died at Boatem, at least he would have done so without another vision under his belt.

Mumbo’s arm tightened around Luke. “No one’s killing you, Luke.”

Ah. Apparently those hadn’t been ‘idle wonderings,’ but rather ‘words he was saying aloud.’ A common mix-up.

“I can be ready to leave in five minutes.” Luke said, that time on purpose, mind jumping to what the other option must be if they weren’t going to kill him- they had accepted his plea. They were going to let him off with a promise to never return to Hermitcraft. It wouldn’t be pleasant, he knew, and saying he could be ready to travel in five minutes was stretching the truth to the point of poking holes in it, but he wasn’t going to risk trying their patience when he had already determined the ‘allowed to leave alive’ option to be so unlikely.

“You don’t- There’s been a misunderstanding.” Mumbo’s hold on Luke didn’t lessen, which Luke felt would make it hard for him to eventually get up and go. Both in a logistical sense (how could he get up when he was being held down?) and a more emotional/exhausted way (the closer he got to falling asleep on Mumbo, the less he wanted to get off of Mumbo). “We don’t have prophets here. We thought, based on your description, that you were talking about… something else. But we were wrong. We-”

“I was wrong.” Grian cut Mumbo off, crossing his arms and looking away from Luke. “I should have- I should have known you weren’t one of them. That you aren’t one of them.”

“We have a lot of names.” Luke made a vague motion with his hand. “Oracles, seers, fortune tellers, other things. I’m not surprised Hermitcraft would have a different one.”

Mumbo shook his head, a motion Luke more felt than saw. “It’s not just the name that’s different.”

Ahead of them, Grian sighed and sat down, still so far despite having moved onto Luke’s level. “Watchers don’t bleed, no matter what server they’re in.” Grian told him, the group’s name dripping with poison and sparking lightning in Luke’s mind. “And they certainly don’t do whatever that was.”

“Vision.” Luke said reflexively, unhelpfully, as he mentally skimmed through the aforementioned where it kept writhing in his brain. “A thousand eyes of violet violence…”

“That’s them.” Grain confirmed. He sounded furious. He sounded scared. He sounded tired. “I don’t know what your, uh, vision told you, but they’re bad news.”

“I got that impression.” Luke admitted, claws of starless night flashing behind his eyes. “I have something else to apologize for, then.”

“What?”

“Lured by power they’ll seek to know but never will.” Luke repeated, shrugging helplessly at Grian’s confused eyes. For all that coming to Hermitcraft had changed about his curse, Luke could still feel a force as strong as diamond, as bedrock, as the universe itself digging into the base of his tongue, a harsh reminder that some things would never change. “I can’t speak past the bounds of the prophecy. I can’t- I can’t explain it to you. I can’t.”

Mumbo patted Luke’s arm. “That’s alright. You said we have three days, right? We can figure something out in three days.”

That’s what they all say, Luke thought but didn’t speak. He didn’t want to risk his tongue saying more than he was allowed. He didn’t want to explain the inevitability of a prophecy, the doom of self-fulfillment.

“I don’t- how could they get in? How will they get in?” Grian dragged his hand across his face. If it weren’t for the circumstances, Luke would have been touched at how readily his vision had been accepted. Dire prophecies especially usually took at least one day of denial-processing. “They couldn’t get in when I first moved here. Why would that change now? Sorry, Luke, I’m not- don’t say what you can’t.”

Luke watched Grian dissolve into muttering to himself, trying to make sense of Luke’s words, their meanings, their methods. It reminded him of El, sister of a prophet and doomed by her own blood, scrambling to find an escape to a fate Luke knew was unavoidable. Trying to help her had been the first and last time Luke had tried to interfere with his visions. Delivering a prophecy and fulfilling it were functionally the same thing, but the former had a layer of separation Luke could hide behind.

But this was Hermitcraft. If his foretellings could change- if the immediate future could change-

Luke closed his eyes. Walked himself back into the vision. Prophets weren’t allowed to speak, but they were allowed to know, if only they were willing to take the time necessary to hack their way through the vision and tear out its meat. After El, Luke had never bothered. It didn’t matter how much he knew. It didn’t matter what he did. The dominos always fell the same.

Luke curled his fingers tight around a special dagger and started slitting purple, taunting, visionary eyes.

In the unwanted space in his head, the unbleeding eyes bled the future, trails of understanding that soaked into the soles of Luke’s feet. The moment of arrival, the moment of leaving, gleeful wanting and taking and terrible, frustrating, razing anguish over the unknown. Luke waded through the future memories, unsatisfied. Grian had the right questions- Luke needed the how, the why now, not the terrible afterwards.

Two eyes, three eyes, four eyes and there was code dripping down Luke’s arms, a purple mockery of his visual foresight that burned into Luke with the importance of a sword cut. The words made no sense to him, but they sang with significance, twisted into the angles of a key.

Luke opened his eyes with a cough, more yellow smoke drifting out. Against him, Mumbo managed to shift in a way that felt concerned. “Is that… are you going to keep doing that?”

“It’s non-toxic.” Luke responded distractedly, looking again towards Grian, who also seemed less than satisfied with Luke’s smoke. “Come over here.”

Grian did not come over. “I- let’s- why?”

“Can’t say.” Luke twitched his foot at Grian. He felt stupid. The whole idea was stupid. Rule number one of being a prophet: give up on the idea that you have any control. You are never above fate. You are never above the future. But this wasn’t his old world. This wasn’t his old life, where fate killed his sister and he couldn’t do anything but watch, where the future had handed him Inscryption and laughed. This was minecraft, Hermitcraft, and Luke was so fucking tired of being destiny’s middleman. “I also can’t stand up without falling over. If you’re- you can take out your sword, or something, if you’re worried, just- just come here.”

“I wasn’t-” Grian cut off his own protest, hesitating for a moment before doing as requested, moving over to be sitting next to Luke and Mumbo. “I’m not pulling another sword on you.”

Luke hummed, more focused on finishing what he technically hadn’t yet started. He had never been a ‘prophet of the people,’ had never made a career out of giving fortunes, but he knew that oracles who did were able to provide visions for specific people by connecting to them. Some used objects or rituals, but most did so through touch, creating a direct livewire between the person and the prophet’s ability to reach for their future. The science behind it wasn’t well understood, but the best guesses all boiled down to something having to do with the core ‘essence’ of a person.

What, exactly, the ‘essence’ of a person was in Luke’s old world wasn’t clear. But in the new one, Luke knew code was- quite literally- everything. If Luke could connect to that… well, he could possibly mess up disastrously and cause the equivalent of taking scissors to someone’s nervous system. Or he could help fulfill the prophecy exactly as it was intended. Or he could possibly, possibly, flip fate the bird, redirect the prophecy, and give Grian an incredibly solid reason to continue with not-killing him.

“How badly do you want to stop it?” Luke asked, putting the decision he couldn’t explain out-loud into Grian’s hands.

Grian set his expression, an impressive display given it consisted only of two eyes. “I’ll do anything.”

“Great. I’m going to hold your hand.”

“What?”

“What?”

Luke ignored the confusion from both Grian and Mumbo. Surely his spitting up yellow smoke and predicting the terrifying future had to be more unnerving than him holding Grian’s hand. Mumbo put up with it no problem, and Luke hadn’t ever been trying to rearrange his code. Luke reached out, not so much ‘holding’ Grian’s hand as he was laying his over Grian’s. All he needed was the point of connection.

With both Mumbo and Grian doing their best to frown at him despite their lack of mouths, Luke closed his eyes again, pushing past the remnants of the vision and doing his best to channel his entire focus towards Grian, his code, the one line that was still wrapped around Luke’s metaphorical arm.

It took a few minutes for Luke to successfully shove the vision out of place, the bleeding eyes following him angrily until he managed to find the sliver between them leading out. The nightmare space faded into one of nothing but lines upon lines of blocky white code, all somehow compiling into Grian. The words scrolled past Luke in a rush, constantly moving and running and jumping around as they processed- presumably- the action of Grian sitting and judging Luke heavily.

Luke let it all pass him without trying to acknowledge them, focused single-mindedly on finding the line from his vision, the line that would lead the Watchers to them if Luke wasn’t able to do something about it. It was all a blur of white to Luke, theoretically useless, but Luke wasn’t looking with his actual, physical eyes.

The line he had been looking for appeared, and the code slammed to a stop like it had been frozen.

The string of code was isolated from the others, sitting plainly on its own line, self-contained. As code, Luke couldn’t understand it, but the matching words on his arm burned with cryptic explanation- a variable in waiting, a hidden backdoor, a trap waiting to be tripped. Luke’s vision, mostly but not perfectly contained to its own section, spliced itself with the code, overlaying the words with prophecy: Grian, trying to predict the tactics of the Watchers, accidentally letting them in all on his own, calling them not only to himself, but to an open Hermitcraft, to the newest hermit and his infinitely useful powers.

Luke scowled at the vision, scowled at the code, scowled at the promises they tried to make him, scowled at the way they tried to deter him. He was already so close. He was already so tired. If fate wanted to stop him, it was welcome to materialize and try.

Luke walked up to the line of code he needed, hefted his dagger, and started slashing.

When Luke opened his eyes next, the chunk of Grian’s code he had been looking for had been reduced to nothing, the letters having fritzed purple at Luke as he painstakingly tore each one out of place. Grian, for his part, didn’t look like Luke had accidentally killed him, which Luke took as a good sign in spite of the fact his entire body had shifted into feeling like it was made of lead.

Using much more effort than it reasonably should have taken, Luke pulled his hand back into his lap. “There.”

Grian pressed the hand Luke had ‘released’ against his chest, forehead furrowed. “I… feel different. What did you do?”

“Mm. Something. Should have helped. No more prophecy.” Luke answered without answering, less out of a caution for what he could-and-couldn’t say and more due to the mental fog that had settled over him alongside the weight in his limbs. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t made for messing with the pure essence of a player. Maybe that had been a ‘bit much’ for him in his already-drained state.

“You- you can do that?”

“I just did.” Luke tilted his face further into Mumbo’s chest. Remembered he wasn’t supposed to do that. Un-tilted his face using monumental effort. “I can… ten minutes? I can be gone in ten minutes.”

“You’re not leaving.” Mumbo said, firmly, at the same time Grian rudely reminded Luke, “You can’t even stand up.”

Luke frowned. Who said he couldn’t stand up? He could stand up. All it took was-

Mumbo pulled Luke back against his side before he could successfully face-plant into the grass. He sighed. “If you… if you don’t want to stay, we won’t force you to, but-”

“I can’t stay.” Luke interrupted. “Prophet.”

“Misunderstanding.” Mumbo countered. “Hermitcraft allows prophets, even if we don’t know what they are.”

“And I shouldn’t have attacked you.” Grian added, nudging Luke’s leg with his foot. “I did it because I thought you were one of them, not because you’re a prophet.”

“But… the blood? I shouldn’t… no blood in Hermitcraft.”

“If you had the mod in your old server, it might have carried over with you into this one.” Grian offered, sounding a touch guilty. In an attempt to convey he didn’t hold his blood against Grian, Luke thoughtfully bumped him with his foot.

Mumbo, clearly wanting to join in on the bumping-fun, bumped his leg against Luke’s. “Grian’s right. A rogue blood mod isn’t server-threatening.”

“It’s messy.”

Mumbo huffed, a sound that Luke’s severely exhausted mind chose to interpret as fond. The hand that had been resting on Luke’s further shoulder lifted as Mumbo started to comb his fingers through the hair at the base of Luke’s neck, an action that was both wonderful and not at all helping Luke’s already poor grasp on reality. “If it’s yours, I don’t mind.”

Grian, sounding slightly as if he were underwater, made an exasperated noise. “Get a room.”

“I think that’s the plan.” Mumbo joked. “Unless you think we should leave Luke to fall asleep out here.”

“You could.”

“We’re not.” Mumbo and Grian rebuked at more or less the same time.

Luke huffed. “You won’t let me stand up.”

“You would fall over.”

“Stop insulting me.”

Mumbo chuckled at Luke and Grian’s exchange. “Luke, do you want to fly right now?”

“...No.”

“Then we’re not going to make you fly.” Mumbo’s logic made sense to Luke. It was extremely considerate of him. Included no insults. “Do you want to go back to Boatem? Or someone else’s base?”

“Boatem.” Luke answered before Mumbo fully finished. “If. If I can.”

“You can.” Mumbo said softly, the response followed by the beeping of a communicator. Luke opened his eyes- when had he closed them?- and found it was Grian, typing something into his.

“Xisuma says voi can teleport us back.” Grian said after what had either been a minute or ten, Luke being too distracted trying to keep his eyes open to focus on the passage of time. “And that voi’s glad you’re ok, Luke.”

Luke hummed in acknowledgement. Briefly lost the battle against his eyelids. Started rapidly blinking in an attempt to beat back the urge to sleep.

Grian, who was not acting nearly grateful enough for someone who’s future Luke had helpfully changed, laughed at the display. “I don’t think he’s going to make it back to Boatem awake, Mumbo.”

Mumbo, secondary reason Luke was not going to make it back to Boatem awake and who was being forgiven on account of being so warm, also laughed. “It’s probably best he doesn’t. Teleporting when exhausted is quite, er, unpleasant.”

“I’m right here, you know.” Luke mumbled, fairly certain he had said at least half of the words out loud. His eyes had fallen shut again and seemed content to remain that way.

The arm around the back of Luke’s shoulders shifted, pulling Luke closer and allowing his head to rest more comfortably on the soft-warm-solid surface. “Go to sleep, Luke. I’ve got you.”

Luke, exhausted, happily listened to his pillow’s advice.

~

Four days later, Luke found himself sitting outside of his house, appreciating the beauty of a Hermitcraft that hadn’t been split open by false gods of wine-purple eyes.

Even with Luke feeling fairly certain he had circumvented his vision, the server had been tense for the three days after it. Luke’s foresight proved he wasn’t lying about his ability to predict the future, after all, and the mix of his inability to speak of the prophecy past its given lines and his uncertainty in whether or not avoiding it was even possible hadn’t exactly filled the hermits with hope. The three days of waiting had been filled with open-secret preparations, every hermit with admin knowledge helping Xisuma to run through the server’s protections with a fine-toothed comb, and a lot of anticipatory glancing at the sky.

(Admittedly, Luke had missed most of these things occurring during his nearly two day long recovery sleep. His visions were usually tiring in a way a long nap could fix, so Luke was forced to assume his exhaustion had come either from altering Grian’s code, interfering with the future of his prophecy, or both.)

But the third day had passed, free of any Watcher appearance, and Luke was left to conclude that he had truly done it. He had defied a vision. He had changed the future, short-term and long-term. For the first time in his lives, Luke was free of the prophet’s curse, even as golden words continued to wind themselves around him.

Luke turned his head a second early as those gold words told him of Mumbo’s approach, because he could, because the hermits didn’t care, because he wanted to revel in how he could know and alter. He did wait until Mumbo actually came around the corner of his house to speak, out of politeness. “Hey Mumbo.”

Mumbo, for his part, didn’t seem put off by Luke’s unnatural readiness. “Hello Luke. Might I join you?”

“Please do.”

Mumbo moustache-smiled as he took a seat in the grass next to Luke, sitting close enough their legs were touching. Luke didn’t mind. The proximity was nice. “How are you doing?”

“Better. Awake.” Luke answered, getting a chuckle out of Mumbo. “I think Phantoms fear me now. I might start chasing them around during the day.”

“I don’t think Phantoms exist during the daytime.”

“They will. That’s how afraid of me they are.”

Mumbo shook his head, but his smile remained. “Glad to see you’re in good spirits as well.”

“I’m a prophet who can defy the future and isn’t having to engage in any impromptu sword fights because of it.” Luke watched his foresight wiggle on the ground as he did just that, switching around the phrasing it had offered him solely because it couldn’t stop him. “My spirits have never been better.”

“You really weren’t joking when you said prophecy was a curse on your old server, huh?”

Mumbo’s tone was light, but Luke could make out the undercurrent of worry in it. Luke hadn’t had a chance to go too in-depth on all the details of being a prophet- he hadn’t yet had the time- but he had explained a few things to Mumbo, in between his naps and the Watcher watches. Unsurprisingly, Mumbo hadn’t liked much of it, biased by the fact that Luke didn’t like much of it either.

“For me at least, yeah.” Luke bumped his shoulder against Mumbo’s. “But I’m here now, remember? And it’s… it’s good here.”

Mumbo hummed, clear he still had something on his mind. Luke waited patiently for him to get to it, no creeper around to ruin the moment. In front of him, Luke watched his foresight turn into ellipses, blinking at him before draining into the grass, as if choosing to leave him and Mumbo alone.

“Your old server was a hardcore one, right?”

“Are those the one-life-only servers?”

“They are.”

“Then yeah, hardcore server.” Luke answered, not entirely untruthfully. His old life had been a one-chance set up, as far as he was aware.

Mumbo nodded, hesitating for a second before continuing on with his line of inquiry. “When you… did you know-”

“When I was going to die?” Luke finished for Mumbo, sighing and looking out over Boatem. Inscryption was an entire bundle of thoughts he had largely left untouched since coming to Hermitcraft, and while he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore it forever, he had been doing his best to pretend that the only part of his death that mattered was that it had happened. “I did. Unfortunately.”

“Oh, that’s- I was going to ask if you knew you would end up here.” Luke turned back to Mumbo, finding him frowning in concern.

“Oh.” Not the question Luke had expected, but one that was much more preferable. “You know, I actually didn’t. Falling into Hermitcraft was a complete surprise to me.”

“A good surprise?”

Luke grinned at Mumbo. “The best.”

Mumbo returned the grin as best he could with only a moustache. He scooted a little bit closer to Luke. “Luke, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Is it something I said during my two day long nap? Or while I was pretending I wasn’t falling asleep on top of you?” Luke hazarded as guesses, aware that he had, at some point in his rests, sleep-talked some fairly odd things. Including, based on the various notes Boatem had kept while watching over him, some rather inspired Catch Monster teams. “Which, I did mean to apologize for at some point. I know you hadn’t planned on playing pillow to a half-mad prophet that day.”

“It’s alright.” Mumbo reassured Luke, waiting a beat before adding on, “You were cute.”

Despite being a prophet, Luke had not seen that coming.

It must have showed in his expression- or in the way he had frozen in surprise, or in the way he was speechless, or in anything, because Luke was pretty sure not a single cell of his being was currently behaving in a normal, unshocked way- because Mumbo laughed, smile softening.

“I didn’t think I was being subtle.” Mumbo told him, teasing but kind. “Especially for a prophet.”

“Prophets- I- we- I predict the future, Mumbo, that doesn’t make me observant!” Luke found enough of his voice to protest, although given the way his face felt like it was burning, he doubted it was a very effective one. He considered trying to hide his face in his hands, but he was fairly certain it would only make his embarrassment worse.

“And you didn’t see this coming? Even a little bit?”

“My foresight’s not here right now.” Luke defended, as if that explained him missing every other sign along the road to that exact moment.

At the mention of his briefly MIA foresight, however, Mumbo hesitated. “Do you… should I wait til it comes back?”

“Actually, Mumbo, I think- I think I can figure this one out from here.”

Another second of pause, and then Mumbo’s smile grew as he leaned into Luke’s side, getting as close as he had been the day he had given Luke the blue orchids that now lived in a flower pot on his bedside table. “Why don’t you tell me the future then, lucky prophet?”

If Luke’s face got any redder, it was liable to explode. “Yes. I see- I see the prophet saying yes.”

“You do?” Mumbo asked, and he was still teasing, still amused, but there was something so earnest and hopeful in his eyes Luke couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he hadn’t noticed anything before that exact moment.

“Yes.” Luke repeated, fulfilling his own prophecy, created just for him and Mumbo. “I do.”

And as Luke leaned in, surrounded by green grass and blue sky and not a single drop of spilled blood, he finally felt peace.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Hello! I hope your doing good today 💕

Can I get some headcanons on a famous Celebrity S/O? (Singer, model, etc) I wanna know if baki men treat the s/o differently 🫣🧐

Interesting because I was debating making a short story if Hanayama falling for a singer. I’m picking Hanayama, Jack, and Retsu for this one since I did one for Katsumi awhile ago

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Singer female S/O

Hanayama Kaoru

He was dragged by his henchmen out to a swanky club that had performers. It wasn’t a place that was really his cup of tea

But then you stepped on the stage. His eyes widening at the beautiful dress that made you look like a beautiful present. It was a very classy dress that hug your figure, the yakuza boss itching to pry it off your body. At first he was just physically attracted to you but then you opened your mouth

You had the voice of an angel. Your siren song was so captivating, he was at full attention. It felt as if it was just you and him in the club and no one else. He was upset when your song ended. He wanted to hear more

He pays the club owner a large sum for you to sing privately for him. It felt as if he was purchasing a beautiful song bird for his own pleasure. It’s what he began to call you. His song bird

Hanayama frequented the club a lot and always paid you handsomely for your time and sessions. Until he was the only one listening to your music. It was then that he sunk his fangs in

He wanted to hire you as his personal entertainment. You reluctantly accepted since he was such a powerful man and you were nothing more than a lounge singer. It’s a mistake you regret

You’re decorated in the finest jewels and clothing, fed the most exquisite meals, and he begins to advance on you sexually as well. It’s a really cushy life but you wish to sing for the masses. You love to sing

It wouldn’t take long for him to clip your wings so you can’t fly away. He keeps you locked in his room now since you brought up your desire to go back to the club to sing. Hanayama is never going to let you go. He bought you, you’re his

Jack Hanma

You were a street singer with lovely vocals he passed by a lot when he was younger. He always stopped to listen whenever he had time

You two had a young love, it was a perfect love looking back in it. You constantly tried to get him to rest and eat instead of over train and he had screamed at you… you left that day and never looked back. It was the second worse day of his life. He was so lost without you. There was no more love in his life and no more softly sung lullabies

Years went by and he began seeing your face on billboards everywhere. You were performing in Japan while he was there fighting, must’ve been fate

You two ran into each other and you completely ignored him. He never felt so small in his life. He decided to watch you sing just like he used to. Your voice was even better… he missed you so much throughout the years you’ve been apart

He’s surprised when you approach him after your performance and you ask how he’s been. You tell him you didn’t recognize him at first and you hadn’t meant to ignore him. You hug him and he melts

You two catch up with one another and reconcile your relationship. You write songs about him and he listens to them first. He loves it

It isn’t long until his face is in the tabloids along with yours. The public thinks you two are odd together and some even try to spread malicious rumors about you. He squashes them though (literally)

You have a public interview about your relationship and a crazed fan loses it

It’s when the obsessive stalker tries to harm you that sets him off. Thank goodness he was there to protect you! He didn’t even want to think about it…

That’s when he whisks you away from your glamorous life to a simple one with him. It’s safer this way… he just doesn’t understand why you won’t sing or speak to him anymore? You’re safe now

Kaioh Retsu

You’re a singer in a tea house he frequents. He loves your vocals. You have such a soothing voice and you’re beautiful like a butterfly… while he is like a spider

You two eventually speak to each other when he’s the only one in the tea house. You’re very soft spoken and polite. You two begin a friendship

It isn’t long until he begins to see you romantically. He decides to start bringing you flowers to show you his favor. You’re so sweet to him and he doesn’t want to share

You accept him and it’s over from there. He becomes a big part of your life and it isn’t long until you move in together. Nor is it long for the manipulation and isolation to set in

He even is able to get your gig at the tea hide taken away. But you don’t need to know it was him

You notice you’re drifting away from everyone else too late. You are caught in his web and he isn’t ever going to let you go. He’s able to convince you he’s all you need

Retsu starts singing with you whenever you are. His voice is enchanting… it blends well with yours