#the characters feel more real and there is more focus on the content over the process of creation

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[margle]

you would think that the fake kiss on stage would make me think of deetress possibilities but no. it was too playful and happy. that was not a deetress kiss. deetress would either kiss with the harrowed desperation of milfs or with a kind of fragile mediocrity.

[anantaru]

big cock alhaitham / wrio trying to fit his cock inside you mfmfmfmgmfmgm

synopsis. he's trying to fit his cock in you (struggling) <3

including. alhaitham, wriothesley

warnings. size kink & size difference, big dick genshin characters, dirty talk, petnames used: baby, fem! reader

— alhaitham

"it— it's not working," you gasp, nails wretchedly scraping at alhaitham's bicep and your knuckles dwindling with how tightly you were holding him against you, at all times needing your boyfriend's heavy weight close, despite his solid cock not even slipping an inch inside— no matter how wet he's gotten you earlier.

he tries again, tries to nudge his fat tip into your little hole, all desires and doubts banished from his mind, only a single aim in mind, a crystal clear focus flashing in his eyes. ultimately, your body relaxes at how gentle his face was the entire time, as if he's got it all under control and you shouldn't worry about a single thing right now, only enjoy the pressure pinching at your core and how it threatened to break you into a million pieces.

he won’t fit he won't fit alhaitham won't fit but he so desperately wants it and so do you— your mind shouts out alarms to warn you yet again, repeatedly inform you that there wasn't a chance that you'd be able to get filled up by his heavy load tonight, not even get a taste of his swelling erection sticking mercilessly to your walls.

he's failing, his cock head messily brushing up into your folds, roughly enough to scratch a sob from your throat. but that's not a sound alhaitham wants to hear, he craves the noise you make when he slips it in, until you're overfilled with his cum and it's running down the insides of your thighs, staining the mattress.

for all that, instead of growing frustrated, alhaitham decides to gently cup your cheek with his free hand to pull your gaze against his, holding you like the most delicate glass threatening to break— then you feel it, right there, his heavy breathing even heavier and that look in his colorful eyes.

for a second, you relax and let him handle you, awaiting his next move as he looks down at you with a watery, toothy smirk, sighing deeply into his chest and exhaling through his mouth, a tender sound you never grow tired of hearing before his palm holds one leg further apart, your hole spreading for him.

the swell of your pussy lips and the glistening arousal on top of it made the scribe feel like he was on cloud 9, drunken by your beauty and so hard working to please his sweet darling— never any less excited to receive his heavy bulk inside your warmth.

your lungs burn when he goes slow again, chillingly so, even more undemanding that your curves melt like dough beneath his hands.

he's got you now, pushing forward yet always alarmed that it wouldn't fit again as in this one single moment, it finally did, and alhaitham almost eclipsed by the roaring of his blood in his ears when he's got to hear your pretty moan for real now— not just the frustrated ones of you wanting to have him already, but that one particular sound you'd always make whenever you, yes, take him, all of him.

— wriothesley

"that good? you can take it?" hearing those words, it felt like the oxygen in your lungs was melting the moment you can hear wriothesley whisper once more, his wet lips ghosting over your ear shells and erecting goosebumps from your neck, "slowly baby, slowly, you don't wanna hurt yourself," he says, your body convulsing in both an ache and relief— and it's truly important for your health to keep breathing and stay content, even when you're fed up with his erection not fitting inside you that night.

"you're supposed to relax, okay? leave it to me, yeah?" he whispers, a slip of eminence soaring from his tongue to right beneath your trembling flesh— and ugh, it practically sparks all your excitement through your body and multiplies it by ten— your wet core and your puffy, little cunt waiting so patiently to be filled by him, only him forever and ever and ever on end.

"y-yeah.. that's it, baby, see.." nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling wriothesley manages to arouse from you each time, and you could certainly never get used to the feeling of his cock either, despite this not being the first time the two of you have been intimate together.

your back arches as your hole spreads around his erection pumping into your core when he manages to fit it inside, his massive shaft pulsing through your walls and sending shockwaves coursing into your veins, slick and sweat streaking on your skin.

his breath freezes on your wet lips with relief flaring through the watery gloss in your eyes as wriothesley kept his promise to you— starting out with experimental, little thrusts as his eyes closed of their own volition, his muscles tightening, his limbs moving while shifting back and forth a little, snapping his hips against your ass in all the right places.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[celtrist]

This was the piece that I had started before my extensive vacation (of coughing). Once again, Alastor is consistently the bane of my existence with his... well everything.

No matter! Anyway, this is something I like to call the Obsession AU. To sum it up real fast: Everyone is yandere for Alastor. I think it would just be apart of his punishment in Hell, being consistently forced into or desired in romantic/sex which he's never had much interest in. I would describe it as a dark comedy thing, but it can be as comedic or as dark as you want here. With that said, please be on guard with any mentions of darker content that treds towards a certain dead bird territory when I get a bit into how I imagine some of the characters. Again, it doesn't have to go that far if you're interested in this premise of an au and wanna focus on the more light hearted stuff, feel free.

This au is just poking a bit of fun at how everyone in the fandom wants to put Alastor in romantic situations constantly (whether it be with themselves or the other characters) despite Alastor probably being the least interested in the subject in the whole show. This is by no means a hate train or making fun of people who do enjoy shipping Alastor, it just more of a funny thing I think comes off as pretty ironic for his character and hopefully, others can enjoy that too. In this au he leans pretty much on the clear-cut side of aromantic and asexual with no interest in romantic affections at all. With that said, if you want to explore Alastor genuinely being interested in one of the other characters romantically or something similar, feel free to explore that! I can see some interesting dichotomies there. It's just within the actual "canon" of this au, he's not at all interested with that sort of thing. And just with a last final reminder to get into some character things I have in mind, some of the content mentioned does get pretty dark, particularly with Valentino but I don't think anyone's surprised there. But there might be some triggering content of the following mentioned here with characters but no crazy details really: Manipulation/Gaslighting, forced feminization, Non-con, Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning, Possessive, Drugging, Love bombing And I will be sure to give a quick warning to each character it might apply to, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything!

Rosie (Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning): Rosie has 100% poisoned Alastor before to make sure he relies on her. They started off as good friends but at some point Alastor began getting ill and Rosie offered to take care of him. This leads to Alastor staying in bed for full days, only really seeing Rosie who took care of his every need from food, clothing, washing, and so on. At some point, Alastor caught on that Rosie was putting something in his food to make him sick and he managed to escape with their friendship tarnished much to his dismay. He's often uneasy around Rosie but is upfront about his knowledge of Rosie's deeds. Rosie, in turn, acts like it is a lighthearted situation and often offers Alastor over for lunch, which he often denies. Any food he gets at his doorstep from a secret admirer or a lunchbox he finds at his seat in an overlord meeting goes straight into the trash. Alastor will still use Rosie's assets to his benefit of course, but is always careful as to what she might try to get in exchange. He has had more awkward lunches with her with his homemade meal versus the buffet she catered for the occasion, with the two gossiping like old times. Alastor is still uneasy during these times, but he also revels in the false pleasantries due to not having many others he's able to associate himself with due to the curse.

Lucifer (Controlling, Possessive, Manipulation): So I'm not 100% clear how I wanted to approach Lucifer. He and Charlie are probably the most similar I suppose? He wants Alastor as his queen (either alongside him and Lilith or only with him, he doesn't mind either way). He doesn't force him into dresses or anything, but Lucifer does consistently make doting moves and talks about how Alastor would make a good father to their children. Marriage is one of the mind and Lucifer probably gets a bit possessive with him. He also tries to guilt trip Alastor a lot, or manipulate situations in one of their arguments to get Alastor to say something he doesn't mean.

Charlie (Controlling, Possessive): Probably the most tame of everyone quite honestly. Charlie can be a bit controlling but does step off when Alastor expresses his dislike of her doing so, even if it takes a couple times. She likes doing things for him, is super affectionate, and daydreams about her, Vaggie, and Alastor all getting married. She can get pretty possessive with him, not being pleased when anybody does anything against Alastor's will or hurt him. The only exception to this rule is Vaggie, to which Charlie sees it like two cats getting along and finds it very endearing.

Vaggie (Forced Feminization, Controlling, Murder): Depending on how you look at it, Vaggie's one of the more fucked up obsessions or one of the more funnier ones. Because she's automatically inclined to like Alastor quite a bit with the curse thing but her personality doesn't jive with his for her own taste (in terms of their first meeting), she both hates and loves the guy. She's obsessed with trying to murder Alastor with traps around the hotel or outright standing over him with her spear. The hatred comes primarily from not wanting to feel the way she does about him, I guess like a fucked up tsundere if you wanna go that route. At the same token, however, she does want Alastor to be involved with both her and Charlie romantically. There's just one little problem: Vaggie has about the same amount of interest in men as she does in canon. So to sort of "fix" Alastor, she consistently tries to force him to be more feminine in clothing, offering different feminine names, and even trying to force him to get a sex change. Alastor is pretty slippery though, so it never quite works out in Vaggie's favor aside from the occasional dress or skirt being worn, which solidifies her attraction to him. Then he takes it off and looks more like a man again, and it solidifies her frustration/hatred for him.

Angel Dust (Drugging): To start, while I think Angel would love to have sex with Alastor, he 100% would not force it. Wouldn't even do touches or anything. Potentially he could just like as a coping (to be in a situation where HE'S the one in control), but that is a darker route that I don't think will be exactly true for this AU. However, he very much enjoys drugging Alastor similar to Rosie. Not only just as a bonding thing since Angel would also do the drugs WITH him, but just to get the not-quite-lucid compliments from Alastor and maybe a snuggle then and there. He wants to dote on Alastor with him drugged out in his bed saying nice things to Angel. Admittedly this one's a bit of a workshop as I just knew I didn't want Angel to be focused on sex like somebody, but wasn't sure what to do here.

Valentino(Non-con, LoveBombing): I mean... it is Valentino, what did you THINK he'd be trying to do with Alastor? There's really not much to say here, Valentino essentially tries pulling all the stops trying to get Alastor in bed while also love-bombing the hell out of him. Which really doesn't work. Valentino is pretty open with sharing Alastor, but again, does this surprise anyone? As long as he's participating in some way, he really doesn't mind.

Vox (ALL warnings): Pretty much the worst version of himself that people make him be sometimes for those darker stories in the fandom. While more interested in having an enthusiastic partner, I don't think Vox would be opposed to forcing himself onto Alastor. He consistently tries to manipulate and gaslight, while enjoying both the suffering and pleasure of Alastor. Much like Vaggie, Vox is obsessed both being in love with Alastor while also downright hating him to the core. He's possessive and likes the idea of being both sweet and heinous with Alastor. He pretty much is every other character wrapped up in one fucked up TV man. Vox acts the most well-adjusted of the characters here, but he's probably got the obsession the worst.

And of course, pretty much every other conceivable ship is up for grabs here. I did think about maybe unfallen angels are able to resist the obsession curse, which would possibly make a funny team-up of Alastor, Adam, Lute, and Emily. Alternatively, I thought maybe the other canonically asexual characters in the show wouldn't be affected instead, meaning another oddball team-up of Alastor, Octavia, and Mammon. Then there is of course the "nope, there's no escape for deer man". Not sure yet, maybe I'll workshop it. I have more normal things in the works rather than this messed up little au, but darker content is a guilty pleasure of mine.

[vivlily]

can you please explain who these horses are????

You made a mistake in asking me, but I will try anyway. This will go over some general things and mainly focus on white and cyan, not so much the other horses.

They are characters from a Twitter webseries/game(?) hosted by @/snakesandrews. Where viewers essentially vote on whatever horse they think might win. These horses bounce around randomly off of objects like a screensaver of sorts, and a horse wins once it touches a png of a carrot.

These horses are typically referred to by their color until they win and are thus given a name, for instance, orange, eventually becoming jovial merryment.

How much or how little these horses win as well as what goes on during a race end up leading to a lot of fan made content. And for the most part, any characterization of these horses is largely up to fan interpretation.

For these two horses, white and cyan specifically? White and cyan and brown would go on to not win one match for quite some time, leading to them being put into a race all on their own. Which brown would eventually go on to win and attain the name Door Knob. Leaving white and cyan in their own little race. With a special little map, file this special little map for later.

It is important to note that these races do not usually last much longer than around 2 or 2 and a half minutes. Cyan and White would go on to race for a whole 7 minutes and 9 seconds. This led to a lot of fans depicting them as sort've not wanting to win, usually because of enjoying one another's company or something similar. I'm a yuri minded individual, so you can probably guess how I decided to interpret it.

As you probably realized, since they had a defined time for the race, a winner also exists. This is where White had won, earning the name Superstitional Realism. This led to a lot of fans depicting Cyan as either feeling betrayed or upset by white winning. Some also show Cyan being happy for white.

It here that white, now superstitional realism(I will refer to her as Sup from now on), would join the next days' race and proceed to not win. And in the next day's race, white would be mysteriously missing. It is in this race that Sup is missing that something unusual happens once the race is over.

Cyan has lost every single race, every single one. This race where Sup is missing is followed by a video in which Cyan was racing all alone in an empy room with only herself, eventually obtaining her first win. But did such a win even count? There was no one for Cyan to even race against after all. It was assumed Cyan would get a name for her victory, but the fanfare screen would simply continue listing her name as Cyan.

People expected that Cyan would finally join the next race proper, only for the next race to be a race between what looked to be 7 distorted horses (6 a form of cyan, and 1 white). Despite there being 6 cyans, they still lost to the distorted white horse, whose fanfare screen read "a Mysterious figure." Leading many to think this might be cyan reliving her worst moments, and more specifically, the moment where she get left behind by white.

The latest race as of this post was with the regular set of horses interspliced with the 6 distorted cyans having a race of their own. It's unknown if this "nightmare" world is real or in cyans head. But one of the 6 distorted cyans does win and is rewarded with the name of Garbage Bin. We then cut back to the "normal" world where Sup remains missing and jovial merryment wins the race(go figure).

Now, do you remember that special little map where cyan and white initially raced in? The "normal" world race was taking place on the very same map, just with more color and rounder edges. This leads to me and probably a few others believing that that last race was the other horses looking for cyan.

My assumption for why Sup has been missing for the last few races is because white had already gone back to look for cyan ahead of everyone else.

As for how the story might end? Well, you can find out both today and Friday as the series seems to be having it's last to races.

Will jovial win once more? It's possible. It's annoyingly possible. And will cyan and sup have a happy ending? I SURE HOPE SO. SAVE YOUR GIRL.

Whadya mean I'm getting emotional over screensaver pngs?!?

Apologies if this was long winded, I'm not used to typing this much and suck at using words. BUT you made the mistake of asking me, dear Anon. Always remember there is always yuri for those with eyes to see. Now go consume some fan content, there's a lot of really good writers and artists out there, show them some love.

[requiemforthepoets]

hey, are you still there? ⟢ LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

[dollyyun]

DEVIL'S NIGHT [PART 1] ✧ DEVIL'S KNIGHTS' PREY (EN-)

PAIRING ✧ enha hyung line x fem!reader GENRE ✧ 18+(mdni), reverse harem, eventual poly, romance, morally grey characters, semi-college au, eventual adulthood, dark themes, strangers/friends to lovers, obsessive male leads (borderline psychos but we love them) WARNING ✧ religious themes, good girl!fem reader, tensions, angsts, toxicity, explicit themes, alcohol and substance consumptions, assault, profanities, corruption, perversion, coercion, usage of weapons, violence, blood, graphic descriptions, traumas, dramas, miscommunication, gore-ish content, mentions of deaths, poor execution in general WORD COUNT✧ 39.9K

SYNOPSIS ✧ As you are in your last year of university, you feel inclined to make a change for once in your life, and so you decide to take a big leap in part of your development by attending the renowned Halloween party that happens every year, which is hosted by the corrupted fraternity of Devil's Knights. Having no real knowledge about what sort of activities would happen behind closed doors, you remain blissfully ignorant of the danger that awaits you once the witching hour commences that may turn out to cause a major change in the trajectory of your life.

NEXT (PART 2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), dom!enha, brief voyeurism, name calling, making out, degradation, manhandling, fingering, spitting, dry humping, clit play, choking, spanking, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, gangbang, dubcon-ish, uses knife on skin.

The tranquillity that once cascaded in every part of the campus building is tainted by an unpleasant, riotous commotion from the collective group of delinquents that are otherwise known as Devil’s Knights, and yet none of the professors or even the head of faculty steps forward to make any form of reproach towards their delinquency, closing both eyes and moving about their day normally, because they know better than to disrupt the momentous pre-celebratory of an upcoming festivity, even more so when they lack the power to possess such authority when it comes to any devil’s knights, most especially their leaders.

He is the living proof in the present time of being highly privileged to be entirely free from their clutches as he struts along the buzzing campus corridor with a cigarette stick caged between his teeth. No one dares to glance in his way wrongly, not when his dark, steely eyes that look as sharp as his jawline are enough to make them recoil while the sight of his full-arm tattoo evokes both admiration and intimidation from the crowd.

His ears perk up at the not-so-subtle mention of his name, shifting his attention to a group of seniors huddling a few meters away from him. The moment they accidentally land their gaze on him, they direct their focus elsewhere and change the topic promptly. A smirk touches his lips, revelling in the power he holds over others, even with his mere silence. He continues to make his way to the intended destination, blocking out the commotion from his focus.

“You didn’t bother to invite me to join you? That’s a first from you, Park Jongseong.” His best friend’s voice, which carries a familiar sarcasm, has him sighing out lowly as he reluctantly comes to a stop before turning his head to meet a pair of icily cold eyes that are capable of daunting anyone except a few people. The taller male is leaning against a massive pillar, and his composure looks unusually relaxed with both hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket. “And here I thought we were smoking buddies, Jay. How disappointing.” His sentiment doesn’t match in the way he casts him an amused smirk.

Jay doesn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes at his best friend’s theatrics, but nevertheless he gravitates towards him as he frees the cigarette stick from the cage of his teeth, now being held in between his fingers. “Spare me your sarcasm, Park Sunghoon.” He grumbles under his breath, but with a head tilt of an invitation, Sunghoon moves off the pillar and proceeds to walk side by side with Jay as they head straight for the campus plaza. “I’m surprised Jake isn’t with you as usual.”

“I haven't seen him all day, not that it bothers me.” Sunghoon says with an unmistakable air of nonchalance while taking a cigarette stick that is generously offered by Jay, but even the latter can see through him how Jake’s sudden detachment for a day has been affecting him. “He’s probably having the time of the month, you know, the usual?”

Jay chuckles dryly as he immediately understands the implication in his statement, knowing all too well that the last time it happened was a year ago, resulting in a nasty confrontation. “Let’s just hope he’s fucking around some girl. I don’t want the same shit to happen again. Fucking Sim Jaeyun—"

“I knew my ears were burning for a reason— you were talking shit about me!” The two Parks release exasperated sighs, not bothering to face the mischievous male when he inserts himself in between them, following them to their spot. They take a quick glance at Jake, raising their eyebrow at the familiar flyer in his grasp. “Look at this. It looks like total shit! I didn’t even approve this design!” Jake exclaims, his face twisting into a scowl as he examines the overall design on the flyer, his eyes drilling holes into it. “Not only can I not trust my best friends to not talk shit about me, but I can’t even trust the design team?”

“What are you talking about? It looks perfect the way it is.” Sunghoon retorts as he snatches the flyer from Jake’s grasp to examine briefly, seeing no flaws in it. He meets Jake’s disbelieving eyes and smirks at him. “Besides, it was approved by me and Jay.”

“It doesn’t matter whether or not the design is flawed. People are already buzzing about it; that’s what matters.” Jay adds before Jake can counter, separating himself from them to move under the shade of a tree with Sunghoon doing the same as he offers Jay a lighter to light up their cigarette stick. “We can expect a full house in three days' time. The more people to hunt, the better.”

Jake grimaces, eyeing his best friends disapprovingly as they proceed to inhale the tobacco before blowing out grey smokes that nearly hit his face, and yet he remains rooted to the ground, standing in their view. “Fine, but I still prefer last year’s design.” He says as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I hope we can also expect something new this year. I mean, you guys have to admit that the past three years have been quite a bore.”

“Agreed.” A familiar voice startles them, drawing their attention to the stealthy male emerging from behind the tree. Jay automatically offers him an opened box that is filled with cigarette sticks, but the latter silently declines it with his hand gesture. “I know what you meant, Jake. Maybe we will finally find our first and official prey this year.”

“You scared the shit out of us, Heeseung. Where the hell did you come from?” Sunghoon asks in disbelief, raising his eyebrow as he watches the aforementioned male lean his back against the tree trunk leisurely with both hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie.

Heeseung doesn’t respond to his question and instead directs his attention ahead of him; his dark eyes hold masses of mystery that not even his best friends can decipher, while his silence speaks volumes that evoke uncertainty, prompting them to exchange looks.

“You okay?” Jay asks gruffly, taking the initiative to find out what is on his complex mind, and this is not to say that the three of them fear Heeseung and his unpredictability, but out of the four of them, Heeseung bears the most complex qualities.

“Just waiting.” Heeseung simply says, his tone sounding neutral and matching in the way his demeanour appears relaxed, but as they study him for another time, they have a strong inkling as to what his short statement pertains.

“Waiting for who?” Sunghoon tries to sound as disinterested as he can, wanting to know what or who has managed to pique the most reserved and mysterious Lee Heeseung.

The corner of Heeseung’s lips curves into a smirk while his focus ahead never goes astray, and this amplifies their curiosity. “Someone.”

Despite being dissatisfied with his answer, they choose to drop the topic, both Parks proceeding to take drags of the intoxicating substance while Jake continues on where he left off to express his distaste of the flyer’s design to them, even yapping off to Heeseung in spite of his silence, whereas Jay and Sunghoon roll their eyes from time to time.

Eventually, their conversation goes from one topic to another, but their attention is collectively focused on the view in their line of sight, where their respective devil’s house members have now invaded the campus main plaza, either giving out the flyers to the students strolling out and about or throwing the flyers in a haphazard manner that is essentially littering the plaza while also causing a ruckus, but neither of the knights bothers to correct the error of their ways.

Heeseung’s demeanour, which once displayed such impassiveness, shifts into something rather delightful as a soft smirk touches his lips while the burning intensity in his eyes as though something has highly piqued his interest, grabbing Jake’s attention, whereas the conversation between Sunghoon and Jay carries on.

When Jake finally directs his focus at what, or rather who, has completely entranced Heeseung, that is when he sees a familiar figure with a darling face that gives him the weird fluttery sensation in him all over again. Similar to Heeseung, Jake finds himself captivated by the mere sight of the familiar girl in a rather modest yet cute attire as well, standing out for the very specific reason of her being the only girl on campus famously known for her purity. 

Heeseung remains eerily silent without their knowledge, his eyes studying you with a glinting dark fascination that overshadows the obsession, watching your every movement. In spite of your tote bag that is laden with your laptop and other materials, it doesn’t deter you in the way you seem to be rushing to somewhere else, trying your best to avoid bumping into other students, specifically the devil’s knights that are wearing the same designed masks for this occasion.

Jake frowns the instant one of the devil's knights practically chucks a handful of flyers at your face while chortling alongside another knight. “What the fuck?” He curses under his breath, drawing Jay’s attention to him, whereas Sunghoon has been noticing Jake’s unusual silence since the moment you captured his attention.

Jake feels a simmering anger within him, wanting nothing more than to defend you by teaching and instilling some manners in those knights who disrespected you. Just as he is prepared to march over to them to drag them away from you, Sunghoon prevents him from moving out of the shade as he uses his frame to block his way.

“Don’t do anything dumb, Jake.” Sunghoon advises, well, to Jake, it sounds more like a warning, while Jay quickly grasps and understands the situation that involves you, but he simply does not give a fuck as he looks away from you, resuming to inhale the last of his burning cigarette stick. 

“I can’t just stand by and let them disrespect her like that!” Jake argues back, his jaw clenching the same way he clenches his fist as he attempts to subdue his anger. He tries to move past Sunghoon, but the latter is swift enough to block his way again, eliciting another curse from him. “If you don’t get out of the way in five seconds—”

“Are you really going to fight me on this? Over Y/N Kang? Really, Jake?” Sunghoon remains collected, but there is no mistaking his icy-cold demeanour that is parallel to Jake’s blazing fury. “What does it matter to you if her feelings get hurt? Don’t tell me you’ve developed some soft spot for her.” Disgust is written all over Sunghoon’s face.

Heeseung blocks out the ongoing dispute between Sunghoon and Jake, being hyper-fixated on you as he watches you shooting glares at the two brash knights walking away from you before you direct your attention to the one of the flyers that you managed to grasp in your possession. The smirk on his lips widens, finding you adorable in the way your lips form into a small pout with visible confusion contorting in your pretty face as you seem to scan the content in the flyer with confused eyes.

Meanwhile, you are completely oblivious to your surroundings as the flyer in your hand eventually manages to pique your curiosity, but upon grasping the content, your lips downturn into a frown, especially as soon as you recognise their infamous symbol on the top margin. Right, in three days time, the long-awaited yet annual festivity will arrive and spread terror, but you have no knowledge of what the terror exactly entails, not that you were the slightest bit interested to know.

But this time, however, you feel something shift within you, almost as if some part of you is nudging at you to embrace a new change and that it’s about time to venture out of your comfort zone. Too deep in your rumination, you fail to hear your name being called until an arm is thrown around your shoulder, startling you and drawing your attention to your roommate, who also happens to be your best friend.

“What goes on in your pretty head to the point you’re standing impressively still?” Karina asks with a teasing grin plastered on her pink lips, her familiar sweet perfume hitting you in the nostril.

“Babe, is that Devil’s Night flyer you’re holding?” Another familiar voice pulls your attention away from Karina as you look to your left, only to notice two of your roommates, slash, your best friends as well. Yunjin and Wonyoung.

The Devil’s Night flyer that you are still holding elicits different reactions from them �� Karina and Yunjin seem to share the same sentiment, whereas Wonyoung lacks the control over her features, clearly expressing her disapproval at your potential attendance at the event, albeit you have yet to say anything about it.

“Relax, girls. I never said anything about going. I was just reading the flyer.” You tell them with a light chuckle, but you notice the sigh of relief that leaves Wonyoung's lips, evoking something unpleasantly sour in your chest, because why is your best friend against you attending a mere Halloween festivity?

“That’s disappointing to hear. We thought that you were finally deciding to move out of your comfort zone and, you know, not be boring for once.” Karina expresses with a pout on her lips, oblivious to the fact that her last few words bring a frown to your face. You know that Karina has no ill intent towards you, and there are some truths in it, but it never fails to sting you in the chest.

“We’re all planning to go, by the way,” Yunjin speaks up after noticing how briefly disheartened you look. You meet her kind eyes as she gives you an encouraging smile. “You can join us if you want. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Yes! You should come with us!” Karina remains enthusiastic, encouraging you the same, and just like that her previous remark is forgotten from your mind, finding yourself being infected by her excitement, practically buzzing. “Trust it’ll be way fun, especially since it’s your first time, and—”

“I hate to ruin the moment, but I don’t really think it’s a good idea for our girl to come along.” Wonyoung cuts her off sharply, her tone indicating no room for argument. “I know you want our girl to step out of her comfort zone, but I wouldn’t want to risk anything happening to her.”

“Come on, Wony! I didn’t expect you to be the one to suck out the fun!” Karina complains, even pleading with the taller girl with puppy eyes, the most adorable she can muster, but it has no effect on the latter.

“It’s our last year in uni as seniors, Wonyoung. Surely, you wouldn’t want our girl to miss out on all of the fun.” Yunjin, always being the one who does the reasoning all the time, tries her utmost to persuade Wonyoung. “Nothing will happen to her. We’re all going to be there to look out for her too, yeah? The more eyes, the better.”

Seeing how Wonyoung’s resolution wavers, Karina beams with a smile as she draws her attention. “Since we’re on our way to shop for the remaining of our costumes, we should shop for Y/N’s as well! Besides, it’ll be her first ever Halloween, so we need to make her look drop-dead gorgeous.”

In all honesty, you hate how they are talking about you in front of you, albeit they mean well, but this happens almost all the time. It is as though they are treating you as if you are incapable of making a decision of your own at your grown age. But you decide to shrug it off, knowing that even if you voice it, they won’t be deterred.

As they continue to converse among themselves, you feel a sudden chill throughout your body, causing the back of your hair to rise, and that is when you feel as though you are being watched, prompting you to find the source until your eyes immediately lock with a pair of dark eyes. Instantly, you feel familiarly daunted as you freeze while your best friends remain oblivious to you.

Even though his highly attractive best friends are under the same shade of tree as him, you can only focus on him, your heart pumping wildly as you see the devilish curl on his lips, which the bottom lip is adorned by a silver ring. Yet, for some reason, you feel entirely drawn to him, completely enthralled by the unknown and danger he emits, even from afar. 

His dark eyes penetrate into yours heatedly, making you feel like he is reading your every thought, before he briefly looks down at the flyer in your grasp, and somehow, the moment he returns his gaze to yours with a suggestive yet oh-so-inviting smirk on his lips, you have a strong inkling that Lee Heeseung wants you to come to the Devil’s Night Halloween festivity.

As you stand in front of the full-length mirror, your own reflection stares at you with an abundant clarity of irresolution, mirroring the inner turmoil within you. Your eyes begin to scan your appearance from head to toe with sheer incredulity. Never in your twenty-one years of life have you ever dressed as provocatively as you are now. Heck, you don’t even recognise yourself.

The white cami bodycon corset dress adorning your body feels uncomfortably tight, but it accentuates your curves impeccably and has a designated contrast lace bustier that levitates your breasts and displays your cleavage, while a portion of your torso is conspicuously visible through the translucent material. The length of the dress reaches so far above your thighs that when you attempt to bend down ninety degrees, your white lace underwear peeks under. To you, though, the main highlight of your outfit is the white thigh-high stockings that complement your white-booted heels. 

You're not the type to critique people for how they choose to dress, and you have nothing against people who wear revealing clothes, but you wonder how other women wear them without feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable just as you are now. You hate to say it, but you practically look like a slut. 

Your nose automatically scrunches up at the licentious thought before silently berating yourself for the stereotype. This is definitely not what you had in mind when your best friends decided to drag you with them and buy you a ‘costume’ that fit the theme that they had chosen for you — an angel. It is definitely ironic how the theme they chose for you supposedly requires you to dress decently.

When your gaze finally settles on the silver cross pendant that rests delicately on your chest, guilt coils in your stomach, and your moment of prior incertitude manages to render you completely disheartened while your eyes turn crestfallen.

What were you thinking? You’re supposed to live up to the code as expected of you, including avoiding dressing indecently and acting with grace. But here you are, all dolled up with excessive skin revealing, and yet you still refuse to recognise that the person staring back at you is indeed you. 

If your parents were here to see you now, they would have chastised and disowned you, especially for dressing the way you are now. You shudder lightly at the thought.

Your parents, particularly your mother, are quite religious and strictly abide by the rules and codes of your religion. However, your parents’ love and devotion to the religion were something you truly adored. Growing up, your parents often brought you to the church along with them, and you recall getting so excited just at the mere sight of the familiar divine building situated in your neighbouring area that you even rushed to greet the pastor eagerly. Every member of the church recognised you, and they would always warmly welcome you and your family, especially since your parents were regulars.

You were loved by them, by everyone. As a matter of fact, you’ve been called ‘little angel’ by them because of your kind and sweet disposition, how helpful you were whenever someone asked you for assistance, how obedient you were whenever you were told to do something, how demure in the way you acted, and how you resonated with people by being naturally sympathetic you were.

Everyone used to tell your parents how truly blessed they were to have you as their daughter. Your parents agreed and often thanked the Lord for blessing them with a daughter like you. Not only did you follow your parents’ example in your religion, but you had also been bestowed with the gift of being naturally smart since you were young until now. 

However, as you take in your appearance once more, your coiling guilt becomes tenfold while disappointment creeps up on you. How dare you have the audacity to wear the cross necklace your father bought for you when you are dressed like this?

You shake your head, taking a step back from the full-length mirror. This is not you, but you know that it’s too late to back out now. Plus, you were the one who voluntarily agreed and made a definitive decision to join your best friends for the Halloween festivity that will happen tonight. Initially, your intention was to finally move out of your comfort zone, but who were you kidding? A part of you has always wanted to prove your friends’ collective view of you wrong and that you could be fun when you want to.

But then again, you can’t recall the last time you ever had fun, or maybe you hadn’t, and that probably says a lot about you in the eyes of your friends. Well, at least you aren’t completely clueless about what a college party entails, considering you have seen firsthand what happened to your roommates right after they came back from parties or even clubs, and it certainly wasn’t anything pleasant. Nevertheless, you offered to help them by assisting in holding up their hair while they retched in the toilet bowl and getting them to bed, despite the grimace on your face.

Knocks on the door pull you out of your rumination, sharpening your focus in the mirror before your eyes trail to a familiar face from behind, who is leaning against the doorframe sideways with her arms crossed. Your eyes beam in appreciation at her beauty. The way she does her make-up accentuates her features, and she looks absolutely striking with her overall fit, which she chose to dress up as a cowgirl.

“Hey, Jen.” You greet her, trying your best to sound as enthusiastic as the way you beam at her, but the smile on your lips eventually wavers, giving away your irresolution.

Yunjin, who is rarely ever enthusiastic, offers you a wide smile that displays her pearly teeth. “Hey, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?” She asks, her eyes scanning your face, noticing how delicate your countenance appears.

Usually, you would reciprocate her energy, but this time, with the doubts lingering in your head, you cave into your withdrawals. “Honestly? No. I don’t know if it’s right for me to go.” You murmur, your eyes lowering, and Yunjin’s smile falters as soon as you reveal your true mask. You fiddle with your fingers. “I mean, I really am looking forward to the event,” You wince internally, unable to say the word ‘Devil’s’ verbally. “Never mind, I’m just overthinking things as usual.”

You don’t lift your head up, even as you hear her footsteps approaching from behind. You feel her warm hands on your bare shoulders, turning you around and tilting your chin up with her fingers. Your eyes reluctantly meet her hazel-hued ones that are blazing with firm resolution.

“I know that deep inside of you, you actually feel doubtful about this, but trust me when I say that just because you’re attending a party and dressing up like this, gorgeously at that, it does not make you unworthy or any lesser in the eyes of our religion.” Her voice comes out strong yet tinged with gentleness, which you can’t help but acquiesce to. Your heart swells with a familiar sentiment. Your best friend really knows you better than yourself sometimes.

Hun Yunjin, otherwise known as Jennifer, has been your childhood best friend, albeit not enrolled in the same elementary and high schools, and she is currently majoring in international business. You met her when you first started to attend Sunday services at your neighbouring church. You recall sitting next to her and randomly engaging in a conversation with her, despite the fact that you two were not supposed to drift off to your own mini-world. You thought you would never see her again, but the next Sunday service proved you wrong. From there, you and Yunjin formed a newfound friendship, and you declared that she was your church buddy. That remained constant until the two of you hit fifteen, and you didn’t see her as regularly as before.

Just like that, you lost contact with her. Subsequently, you began to wonder what went wrong and questioned your friendship with her, which you cherished dearly. Not many years later, when you first stepped foot in this university, you met Yunjin again, and miraculously, she turned out to be one of your assigned roommates. You assumed that she would not recognise you or even brush you off coldly given her aloof demeanour, but you were overjoyed when she recognised you and immediately welcomed you with a bear-hug while telling you how much she had missed you. The thought of asking her what truly happened years ago did cross your mind, but for some reason, you were afraid and apprehensive of the outcome, noticing how she would tense up whenever you brought up any topic regarding family, and most importantly, you didn’t want to lose her again. So you chose to play it safe. But what matters most is that you have reunited with her.

In return, you muster a faint smile on your glossed lips. “You always have a way with words, Yunjun.” You compliment her before releasing a soft sigh and holding your head up high. “Fine, I’m ready.”

Yunjin’s firm exterior cracks, and her matted-red lips curl into a grin. “That’s my girl.”

“Girls! Are we ready to go─” A gasp pulls you away from Yunjin’s eyes, and when you look at the familiar figure standing by the doorway to your room, you become in awe of how seductively alluring she looks with her theme, dressed up as a catwoman. 

“You look amazing, Rina.” You compliment her earnestly. Genuinely, she knocks the breath out of you, and despite being roommates for three and a half years, her striking beauty often makes you question yourself about whether or not she is indeed real.

Truth be told, you didn’t get along with Yu Jimin, otherwise known as Karina, in the first few semesters of your freshman year. As she’s a fashion design major, it was inevitable that such a heap of mess was expected from her, and you hoped that she would be considerate, but you didn’t expect for her mess to scatter into the shared living room. Out of the four of you, you’re particular about cleanliness, so you disapproved of your roommate being blatantly inconsiderate, especially when you and your other roommates have had to clean up her mess every so often. You recall when Karina overheard you delivering complaints to your other two roommates, and she confronted you on the spot. From then on, she began nitpicking you, resulting in many petty disputes with her. You felt more annoyed than upset whenever she pointed out the fact that you were plain and boring. You swore you thought that you would never get along with her until two years ago, in your sophomore year, you found her alone in the living room at three in the morning as she was drinking two bottles of soju to her heart’s content with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes were puffy.

You wanted to mind your own business as usual, but it didn’t sit right with you to leave your roommate alone to reel in despair, so you cautiously approached her, as if you were afraid that she would lash out at you, but surprisingly, she confided in you. That was when you got to know that she had been cheated on by her boyfriend. You listened attentively to her, and even offered comforting words to her, to which she thanked you by giving you a hug before falling asleep on you. Of course, you had tucked her in to sleep on the couch with a pillow for her head to rest on and a blanket to give her body some warmth. You thought that Karina would return to her usual self when the next day arrived, but she took you by surprise once more when she started to become amiable towards you. From then on, you two developed a sense of camaraderie before it blossomed into a newfound friendship.

“Says you! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Karina exclaims, her red lips outstretched into a wide smile while you detect sincerity in her tone. Her sharp eyes scan you for another time before the corner of her red lips curves upward with pride. “See? I knew that this dress would look gorgeous on you! Plus, your body is to die for!”

“I agree.” Yunjin chimes, casting you a smirk while your cheeks warm from their fond gazes on you. “It looks like our girl will be receiving many head turns tonight. I would have hit you up long ago if I swung for the same team.”

Before you can say anything, another voice joins in the conversation. “Okay, look, I know I agreed for Y/N to join us after much persuasion, but after some thought about it again, I’m taking my words back. There’s no way I’m letting her go with us.”

Your eyes shift from Karina to the tall, raven-haired beauty next to her. Once again, you are captivated by her mesmerising beauty and how truly stunning her overall fit is, in which her theme is a mermaid, and you are not exaggerating when you say that she looks like a literal mermaid goddess. 

Yunjin heaves a sigh, her hazel eyes flashing annoyance. “We’ve talked about this, Vick. Nothing is going to happen to our girl. Don’t ruin this for her.” You hold your breath, feeling the tension mounted between the two glaring girls. You know that Yunjin means serious business whenever she calls Wonyoung by her English name.

Jang Wonyoung, otherwise known as Vicky Jang, is one of the university’s it girls with your best friends being in the same league, and she is also the girl whom you can call your soul sister. You recall the first time you met her when she opened the door to your shared dorm, and you were instantly captivated by her doll-like beauty and were so stunned that you even stammered your words when you reciprocated her warm greeting. Wonyoung is in the same major as you, journalism, and perhaps it also has to do with the fact that you got along well with her in just a few days prior to your first meeting in your freshman year. Despite how peculiar you managed to form a bond with her, you were grateful to have found a friend like her.

Although you are close with Yunjin and Karina, you feel more comfortable and at ease with Wonyoung, even when you are wrapped in silence. The two of you understand each other, even without words. You feel as though the both of you are kindred spirits; whenever you feel down, it affects her just the same, and you two often share your victories together without harbouring any hidden jealousy or ill feelings. There is this special connection you have to Wonyoung that is indescribable. Even your other friends often joke that the two of you are long-lost twin sisters.

Wonyoung’s eyes flicker to yours fleetingly, but it is enough for her to reaffirm her prior intuition before she returns her gaze to Karina and Yunjin, specifically to the cowgirl. “I just have a bad feeling about Y/N going, okay? You guys do know that my intuition has never failed me.” She tells them firmly. “I’m just being a good friend to Y/N and trying to look out for her.”

Yunjin scoffs loudly, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth with a click of annoyance. “Are you also implying that we’re being bad friends to Y/N just because we want her to join us and have fun? You’re unbelievable, Vick!”

Wonyoung remains calmly collected, but there is no mistaking the irritation in the twitch of her eye. “I never said that, and I don’t want to argue with you, Jen. Just think rationally; attending Devil’s Night is not something we should take lightly. You and I both know that a person’s life will never be the same after the experience, if they even manage to survive the night.”

“Survive the night? What does that mean?” You butt in, both curiosity and incredulity evident in the cadence of your voice, but they simply ignore you, or maybe they are too busy communicating by still continuing the glaring contest, neither of them backing down.

“We’re wasting time here, girls.” Karina speaks up quietly, her eyes darting between them cautiously before settling on Wonyoung. “As much as I love that you’re being the overprotective mom of our group, just please don’t ruin this for us, especially since it’s Y/N’s first Devil’s Night, so we would want her to have a memorable experience, right? We promised that we won’t let anything happen to her, so have faith in us.”

“Yeah, have faith in us, Wony.” Yunjin emphasises with vehemence of mockery lacing her tone. “Besides, how long are you going to shelter Y/N as if she’s some helpless damsel and not a grown woman like us?”

You clench your fist, hating how your best friends are arguing because of you once more, but this time, you manage to find your voice to speak up. “I’m not in the slightest bit scared about attending Devil’s Night,” You pause briefly, internally wincing after having to say the word. “And I’ve always wanted to attend a party with you girls, so can we please not argue anymore and end with a groupie hug?” You state unsurely, seeing as Yunjin and Wonyoung never relent from the glaring contest.

Eventually, the two relax their tense postures, but neither of them utters an apology to the other. Nevertheless, Karina initiates the group hug, forcing Wonyoung and Yunjin to nestle closely while they grumble, but their features soften when you wrap your arms around them.

“Friends, again, right?” Karina asks nervously but covers up with an optimistic grin as she looks at them while you anticipate the same.

Wonyoung’s face remains impassive as she leans slightly forward to Yunjin. “If anything happens to Y/N, the blame is on you.” Her voice is low, carrying an undercurrent of warning.

Yunjin rolls her eyes, not intimidated in the slightest. “You’ll be thanking me instead for when Y/N has the time of her life at Devil's Night.” Just like that, the tension between them subsides, though they still harbour some pettiness over the action and words of the other behind the reconciliation.

“Let’s go, then. At this rate, we’ll be the last ones to arrive and miss out on most of the fun.” Karina says, prompting Yunjin to walk past Wonyoung before Karina follows after her.

You busily proceed to stuff whatever necessity into your white mini leg bag before wrapping the strap around your thigh, securing it fittingly. You look in the mirror to do a final examination of your appearance before turning around to depart from your room. Your eyebrows jump in surprise when you see Wonyoung waiting for you just outside, and her face remains disconcertingly as serious as ever.

“Are you sure about this?” She asks you as soon as you step closer to her, and her voice has a touch of gentleness to it, which makes your eyes soften as you recognise her concern for you. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured by them, which is why you’re going.”

“Yes.” Although you sound decisively certain, you can’t say the same for your churning stomach, but you ignore it since you are genuinely looking forward to the fun. Giving her a smile of final assurance, you begin to loop your arm around hers. “I love you, Wony, but Yunjin’s right, you know? I can’t be sheltered like I used to, and I want to graduate without any regrets.”

Wonyoung seems to believe in the conviction in the way you carry yourself, oblivious to the mask of bravado you put up, but you have to convince your best friend that she can trust you with your own safety without having her hover over you constantly. “Well, if you say so.” She softens with a smile.

Being the only one in your friend group who passed her driving license, Karina offered to drive the three of you to the venue with her polished purple Porsche, but in your mischief, you were quick enough to occupy the passenger seat, earning an approved grin from Karina, whereas Yunjin and Wonyoung did not look pleased to be seated in the back together.

Though it hasn’t been long since the four of you departed from the dormitory, silence encompasses the car with only an euphonic tune of the latest hit emanating from the dashboard radio, which feels unusual even to you since you value silence most of the time and your best friends would always be loud. It most likely has to do with the remnants of bitterness that Yunjin and Wonyoung still harbour towards each other, judging by the way they seem to be avoiding each other’s eyes. Karina meets your eyes, grimacing before deciding to increase the volume of the radio to override the awkwardness amidst the tension.

You hope that their usual dynamic would return to normal by the time you arrive at the venue. You press your lips thinly together before deciding to shift your focus to the window, where the view of multifarious buildings greets you, albeit most of the buildings appear to be oddly barren. Even the streetlights look eerily dim. It looks like Karina is driving through a town that you are unfamiliar with, and you would actually consider it a ghost town if it weren’t for the other vehicles driving on the same road as you, possibly the other guests.

You focus on the road ahead of you in an attempt to distract yourself from the unease that is creeping up on you, but soon confusion fills your head as Karina continues to drive past the last of the structured villas before entering into a massive road where a boulevard of trees towers on both sides of the road, because naturally, you expected the location of the festivity to be at a typical frat member’s backyard of their villa or even mansion, but from the looks of the road that continues to lead you to the unknown, you hope that it won’t be at a literal haunted building.

Soon, amidst the darkness that ostensibly obscures the road around you, an unmistakable illumination emerges ahead as you squint your eyes. With the velocity that Karina picks up, it isn’t long until the massive surprise awaits you, quite literally. You even have to blink your eyes repeatedly a couple of times, uncertain whether or not you are seeing the exact same thing as your best friends.

Karina decelerates the speed of her car as soon as she spots the vehicles lining up ahead of her that leads to a driveway before coming to a complete stop right behind a BMW. She taps her fingers on the leathered steering wheel that matches the beat of the music, letting the time pass while multitasking to slowly drive forward as the queue ahead shortens. From her peripheral vision, she notices the way your lips go parted and your widened eyes, bringing a small grin to her lips. “Are you liking the view?” Karina asks coyly, even drawing Yunjin and Wonyoung’s attention to you.

“Yeah, I just─” You become distracted when your eyes land on the creepy scarecrows situated in the land of greenery right outside, prompting you to turn your head to meet Karina’s eyes. “I didn’t expect that the festivity would be held at such a massive manor.” For a moment, you had no idea whether or not to utter the word palace, because it perfectly describes the sight that you are viewing.

A knock draws your attention, noticing Karina pushing down a button at the side that allows the driver’s window to roll down, revealing a manly figure with his identity obscured by a mask that is identical to the one you saw yesterday on campus. You observe him with curiosity as he holds the beaming flashlight at the interior of the car, squinting when the light skims your face. For a moment, you become hyperaware of this indescribable tension as he continues his examination of the car before he walks over to the back of the car. As though it is a routine, Karina instantly presses a button that allows him to examine the trunk. Upon hearing two knocks, Karina steps on the gas pedal, allowing the car to move forward, and it’s also when you notice the imposing black gates open, granting access to the territory.

The first thing that greets your sight up close is the grandeur of water fountains situated across the broad front yard, particularly the massive one that stands out in the center. As Karina continues to drive forward, you take the opportunity to marvel at the divine modernisation manor that looks more monumental than any building you have ever seen. It almost looks like a whole palace, making you wonder if the interior structure of the manor also looks similar to a royal palace. Above all, you wonder who is the owner.

“We’ve finally arrived, girls.” Karina announces, as soon as she pulls over on the massive asphalt where different ranges of vehicles are arrayed, before switching off the ignition of the engine, whilst you proceed to unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the vehicle.

The collective movement of the other guests captures your attention, and your eyes sparkle with amazement at the diversity in their costume designs and makeup, but ultimately, you grimace at the unpleasant sight of those who intentionally dressed up horrifically as part of their devotion to tone with the Halloween theme. But you applaud their commitment.

Being driven by the excitement buzzing in you, your feet gravitate you to the main entrance while your eyes continue to scan the manor’s facade. It doesn’t appear as eerie as you expected, devoid of spooky ornaments, but you know better than to judge early. Though you don’t and have never celebrated Halloween, you know that it does also entail unexpectancy, and so you mentally prepare yourself for any potential fright that this manor has to offer on this devilish night.

A poster that has a similar depiction of the flyer from yesterday catches your eyes, prompting you to move over to the grand pillar that has the poster attached to it just outside the main entrance. Though the depiction alone emanates something so sinister that it should have perturbed you, you find yourself being highly intrigued by what makes this festivity notoriously unique that never fails to compel almost everyone to attend.

Your eyes land on the familiar symbol that even you recognise — a human skull with a pair of discordant horns on its head with a long dagger impaled directly into the skull from above, reminding you of the holy cross with the way its t-handle is upside down. The Devil’s Knights’ symbol. Something familiarly unpleasant begins to churn in your stomach.

When you first heard about Devil's Night, you had a strong inkling that the event, let alone the name itself, would bring bad tidings to anyone involved. It is a popular annual Halloween festivity that is hosted by the notorious fraternity of Devil’s Knights, and according to your best friends, the overall in-charge of the event are the four leaders, who technically also dominate the university. But you see them all the same — just a bunch of delinquents who love to flaunt and assert corruption and dominance over Redcrest University everywhere they go. You find it ridiculous how even the board of the university simply overlooks their delinquency, but based on your current knowledge, it has something to do with the fact that the university benefits greatly from the eminent yet influential figures, whose long family line had enrolled into the university for many generations and earned many achievements, thus elevating the status of the university name that eventually earns a notable standing in the high society over the years across SoKor.

You hear your name being called with footsteps rushing from behind before you feel a hand on your shoulder to draw your attention to your best friend, whose countenance is unable to conceal the concern in her eyes. “You forgot your mask.” She tells you as she holds up a white masquerade mask.

You thank Wonyoung with a sheepish smile, but before you can retrieve it from her, she assists you in wearing your mask, securing the lacey material around your head and tying it into a perfect ribbon. You have forgotten that there is a special theme for this year’s Devil’s Night, which is masquerade macabre, wherein all guests are highly encouraged to attend with their own masquerade masks, though you have no idea why, but it’s probably a mere decoration on the guests’ part.

Plus, it is no wonder that you have been getting unpleasant stares from the people in your vicinity because they recognise the only renowned good girl who is practically the emblem of purity on campus, aka you, not that you are proud of it, considering that many view you with such abhorrence despite the fact that you have never disrupted the peace of others, just minding your own business and living quietly while trying your best to avoid drawing any attention to yourself. 

With Karina’s arm locking around yours, the four of you stride forwards towards the main entrance, moving past the two imposing knights that probably pose as the bouncers as they seem to scan the guests for any potential trouble. As soon as you manage to cross past the final border to make it into the manor, you are immediately greeted by the terrifying ornaments in every interior part. You gulp nervously at the sight of the bloodstains that serve as part of the decoration, having no idea whether or not those are indeed blood imitations. Nevertheless, even those fail to overshadow the beauty of the manor, not even the dim lighting that exudes a haunting setting.

Despite your newfound admiration for the manor, there is an agitating turmoil within you that mirrors the way your heart pounds harder in your chest, having zero knowledge of what horror the night will possibly entail. Your fingernails dig crescents in your palm, repressing the cowardly side of you. You hate how you will always be the one with the faintest heart out of them all.

Just when you intend to ease up, your discomposure returns as you and your best friends release blood-curdling screams when four hideous scare actors bring terror upon the bunch of you as soon as you enter the main foyer. Chuckles and murmurs emit from the other guests loitering in the same area as they look at the commotion, but you are too preoccupied with regulating your emotions and breathing as you clutch onto Wonyoung’s arm instinctively.

Is it too early to say that you’re already regretting popping your Halloween virgin cherry?

“Oh, fuck off!” Karina snarls at them, imitating a cat-like hiss that brings a faint smile to your lips at how amusing it is. “That was uncool!” She expresses her displeasure to one of the scare actors with a scowl on her face while Yunjin shoots an icy glare at them as they chortle in unison behind their hideous yet terrifying masks.

“Lighten up, darling~ It’s Halloween!” The scare actor counters jeeringly before high-fiving his fellow associates with derisive laughter emitting from them even as they walk away to find other targets to bestow the same terror.

“Devil’s knights. How typical,” Yunjin scoffs out as she crosses her arms over her chest, but her eyes wander to you with concerned intent, considering your scream was the loudest out of the three of them. You release a shaky sigh, relaxing a tensed muscle in your shoulder. Of course, those scare actors were the devil's knights.

“You guys finally made it!” A high-pitched squeal diverts your attention to the familiar blonde, who is dressed up as Annabelle from the famous Conjuring film, but she manages to pull off the look rather adorably instead of ghastly. Her eyes instantly meet yours, greatly surprised yet delighted to see you. “Y/N?! Are my eyes deceiving me right now? You came!”

You don’t have time to process when she crashes into you, her arms latching around your figure and steadying you while breathy chuckles elicit from you as you reciprocate her eager hug. “You’ve just seen me yesterday, Minjeong.”

Minjeong, who also majors in journalism, is a part of the circle and a trusted friend to you. She is like a bolt of lightning. Despite her ebullient disposition, she can be fierce and intimidating when needed.

“We knew those screams sounded familiar.” This time, another voice grabs your attention with its familiar mirth, and at once, the rest of your familiar group of circle has gathered around you, greeting you with heartfelt hugs and gushing over your look that makes you feel rather bashful at their generous compliments.

In your line of sight are Kazuha, Chaewon, Liz, Rei, Yujin, Giselle, and Ningning. Whereas Kazuha, Chaewon, and Yujin are majoring in arts and entertainment management, Liz, Rei, and Ningning are majoring in economics. Giselle, on the other hand, is in the same major as you, Wonyoung, and Winter. Despite the fact that all of them are highly regarded as the it girls of the university that falls in the same league as your roommates, not once have they ever left you out and made you feel an outcast, especially considering that most of the student body dislikes you for reasons you deem irrational.

So what if they hate you just because you did not hail from an esteemed, affluent family? You managed to pass an entrance exam with a perfect score, and you even earned yourself scholarships over the years of your education here. Frankly speaking, you are not bothered by the fact that there are students who dislike you for your status ranking, because at the end of the day, your GPA remains a perfect 4.0, and you are on the director’s list of exceptional students. Plus, your future is all set. You just need to maintain your GPA and graduate and get the hell out of university without involving yourself in any trouble for the next few months.

You mentally detach yourself from the ongoing chatter from your group of friends, your eyes scanning every part of the crowd, searching for a certain leader who had his eyes on you yesterday. The memory feels fresh as it is embedded in your mind. But he is not anywhere in your line of sight.

Yunjin, who notices how you seem to be distracted in searching for someone, nudges you with her elbow, which has you meeting her curious eyes. “Anyone in particular you’re looking for?” She asks, her voice low, as she knows that you’d hate for the other girls to pester or even tease you if they heard her question.

“No one. I was just admiring the place. It looks similar to a grand palace, don’t you think?” You hide your disappointment behind a smile, without knowing that it does little to convince Yunjin, but she decides to drop it.

“Okay, girls, gather around." Karina announces, and the group of you huddle in a circle, with giggles and banter emanating from your friends. “While we’re here to have fun, we must never forget to keep Y/N in our sight at all times, especially since this is her first time attending Devil’s Night. Plus, it would really ease Momma Wony, who has been awfully worried for our girl.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” You assert strongly, but your demur goes unheard by them as they continue to quickly run through what to look out for, or rather who to look out for — the Devil’s Knights’ leaders.

“It’s for your own good, Y/N.” Wonyoung tells you softly after noticing the sour expression on your face as soon as they begin to disperse while you remain by her side, dragging you with her. Your best friends seem to know their way around the manor, pushing their way through the bustling crowd as they venture deeper.

“You girls really don’t have to worry about me.” You remain adamant while reluctantly allowing yourself to be dragged by Wonyoung. Your eyebrows furrow, and your lips downturn into a frown. “I know how and when to steer clear of trouble.”

Despite being the same age as them, your best friends and the others who are in the same circle of friends as you often coddle you, including protecting you from anyone who has ill intent towards you, especially from some of the frat members who have tried to approach you in the past. Of course, you feel much gratitude for your friends, and you are blessed to be surrounded by feminine love and support, but there are moments when you do feel overwhelmed by them and frustrated as they seem to think that you are incapable even when you prove yourself to them, but according to them, your innocence is highlighted as crucial and needs to be protected. Sometimes, it feels as though they feel obliged to shelter you from the cruel reality and want you to remain the way you are. Pure, and a literal saint, but you hate it.

“I know, but you have to understand that this Halloween is different.” Wonyoung asserts firmly, to which you can’t help but resign. “Trouble is everywhere here, and no one is immune to attracting trouble. Not even you.”

“What is so different about a mere Halloween party?” Still, you mutter with a sass of attitude, but audible enough for Karina and Yunjin to hear that has them raising their eyebrows at this attitude of yours.

“It’s different because each Halloween hosted by the devil’s knights differs from the previous Halloween.” Karina answers as though she has recited this before, and when you look into her eyes, you see uncertainty shine through them. “Really, we can never predict what they have up their sleeves. But one thing that remains constant is the fact that Devil’s Night is not meant for anyone faint of heart.”

“Ironic, because here we are, dragging Y/N with us.” There is a familiar bite in Wonyoung’s tone, but you frown at her as she impliedly agreed that you are one of those with a faint of heart.

“Nothing is going to happen to Y/N as long as we stick by her side.” Yunjin reassures Wonyoung firmly once more, annoyance filtering her voice, but your attention drifts to the new scenery before you.

It appears that you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings earlier, as you now find yourself entering what looks like a club. Incredulity buzzes through you the way the blasting music does. You definitely did not expect that there would be a club inside the regal manor. The club looks lavish with a B-stage right at the very front and a bustling crowd enjoying and dancing to the music that has obscene lyrics, which brings a grimace to your face, but you know that you have to get familiar with being in this environment if you want to step out of your comfort zone. 

You follow Wonyoung closely while marvelling at your surroundings. You have no idea how enormous the venue is, but you can’t deny the fact that you find it impressive, and there are even two separate bars on each side of the venue. Yunjin grabs you by your forearm and drags you with her and Karina to head over to the bar while Wonyoung trails behind you. Thankfully, there are not many people by the bar, but even so, you become conscious of the way you look as more eyes latch onto your form, making you feel as though you are naked.

“Do you want a non-alcoholic drink?” Yunjin asks you as soon as the four of you settle on the high stools where you are facing the bartenders in their element, serving other guests that are seated by the booth as well.

“I actually would like to try some alcoholic cocktails, maybe a margarita?” Your statement elicits genuine surprise from them. You bite the inner cheek, holding back a smile that displays your pride. Of course, they did not expect you to know the name of a single alcoholic beverage, but you did. You had done some research last night, skimming through the internet and memorising the alcoholic beverages. Plus, you didn’t want to look like a complete amateur at your grown age, wanting to impress your best friends.

“How did you know?” Yunjin asks, speaking for the other two who have the same question in mind, and yet Yunjin seems proud with the way her eyes sparkle.

You give her a sheepish smile. “Just because I don’t go places like this often doesn’t mean I’m an amateur. i know things too, you know?” You tell her coyly, eliciting amused chuckles from them.

“A margarita for the angel right here.” Yunjin chirps to the bartender while pointing her finger at you, and being a natural flirt, she winks at the bartender, who, in return, blushes but quickly proceeds to make your order.

“Are you sure about drinking?” As always, Wonyoung’s worry for you is evident when the glass of margarita is served to you. “You might get tipsy after a few sips since you have never drunk one before.”

“Don’t discourage her, Wony.” Karina says with a disapproving frown on her lips. “If Y/N says she wants one, she will have one.” Wonyoung rolls her eyes at her, but acquiesces.

The three of them watch you in anticipation as your fingers wrap around the delicate stem of the glass before raising it to your lips and taking tentative sips. As soon as the cocktail hits your tongue, you decide to drink it wholly in one go, surprising your best friends once more at how natural you are at it.

“How is your first-ever drink?” Karina gives you a grin, her eyes glittering with approval, entirely impressed by this new side of you. 

The cocktail that you drank surprisingly isn’t too strong, but you feel oddly energised. You lick at the seam of your bottom lip before a grin spreads across your lips. “I’d like to try other drinks. Any recommendations?” You ask the girls, specifically Karina and Yunjin, as they enthusiastically introduce you to the drinks on the menu board.

Yunjin proceeds to inform all of your orders to the blushing bartender once more, including Karina and Wonyoung’s. As the three of your best friends are engaged in a conversation, you decide to look over your shoulder with your body tilting to watch the ongoing performance from a live band, and the music seems to be getting to you, influencing your body to sway to the rhythm. Your eyes skim over the sea of partygoers dancing among themselves and with each other, tempting you to join in the dancing yet intoxicating crowd.

Your lips curve into a small smile, finding yourself relaxed, totally at ease for once, probably thanks to the alcohol that has now invaded your system. You take sips of your drink again, relishing in the addicting flavour before placing down the half-empty glass on the table. Deciding to keep yourself occupied and entertained whilst your best friends are still having a conversation about a topic you know nothing of, your eyes wander around as you are lost in your thoughts until they land on a particular figure that stands out to you in a place full of partygoers.

Though he is seated on a velvety couch across the side of the club from where you are at, his visual is so outstanding that you simply cannot look away. Still in a trance, your eyes roam around the entirety of him before locking eyes with him, and just like that, you are struck by the dreadful realisation that you are staring into the eyes of the man who you used to have a crush on. From the way he raises his eyebrow attractively at you and how the amusement curls on his plump lips, you know that he has been staring at you.

His gaze is sharp as he continues to hold your gaze, seated leisurely on the couch with his legs spreading invitingly as though to tempt you to come over to him, rendering you flustered, and yet you find it hard to look away from him, wanting to feast your eyes on him for as long as you can. His lips tip up in a smirk as he takes sips of his drink, scanning you from head to toe for another time before the handsome view of him is blocked by an incessant group of partygoers.

But you have a feeling that you’ll be seeing him again, especially after recognising the patent desire burning in his eyes that parallels the desire pooling within you sinfully.

Humour manages to slither its way to your dazed mind that is tainted by the intoxication from the number of drinks you had, eliciting drunkard chuckles from you, and yet you don’t feel fully inebriated, just the slightest bit tipsy. A scoff follows after the chuckles that leave your lips before you tip your head to the back as you drink the last of your cocktail. You take a glance at the empty seats next to you that were previously occupied by your best friends. It is definitely ironic how your best friends, particularly Wonyoung, were insistent on keeping their eyes on you to prevent something from happening to you, but they are nowhere to be found now. Even so, you know yourself that you didn’t need any form of babysitting at a party despite this being your first time. 

Maybe this is the alcohol that is intensifying the feelings you buried deep, but frankly speaking, you have had enough of your best friends treating you like you’re a helpless, incapable damsel who is in need of supervision at all times. No, this time, you will prove to them that you can have fun without any restriction or anything happening to you. You will prove to them that you are far more capable than they think.

You decide to abandon your seat, nearly losing balance as dizziness strikes you in the head, but you swiftly regain composure, now standing on both feet steadily. Your eyes feel magnetically drawn across from the side of the club, expecting to see him, only to feel sheer disappointment to see no sight of him at where he was just seen earlier. Just when you feel confident to approach him, that is driven by the impulse of intoxication.

Nevertheless, you refuse to allow his absence to deter you from experiencing the fun by the dance floor with other partygoers, and so you gravitate towards the bustling crowd with red and purple LEDs in motion illuminating every part of the club that exudes such sensuality. You venture deeper, and instead of panicking and getting overwhelmed by the crowd around you, you feel oddly liberated with your body moving to the infectious rhythm instinctively, in which the DJ is currently playing Waka Flocka’s ‘No Hands’ as it reverberates throughout these walls.

You know that it has to do with the alcohol buzzing in your system that has completely relieved any rationale and any saintly quality from within you, rendering you unrecognisable as you go all out without any restriction, giggling and dancing fluidly as though you are a natural at it, but not a single regret comes to mind. 

Unbeknownst to you, he has his eyes fixated on you from the moment you venture onto the dance floor, completely mesmerised at the sight of you revelling in the abysmal toxicity. With the people in his vicinity recognising his unmasked face, they immediately give way to him, allowing him to make his way to you with ease. He bites down on his plump lip, enjoying the way you are flaunting your moves that accentuate your curves a little too much. 

You got him in a complete trance, enticing him to roam his hands all over you. Your giggles sound melodious yet seductive to his ears as soon as he nearly reaches you from behind. His eyes darken with each passing second as your body sways with fluidity, and your back is arched with your head tilted up, immersing yourself in the music while a sultry smile smears across your lips. He can feel his cock hardening beneath the slacks.

Fuck, he has no idea there is a side to you that he gets incredibly turned on by, and it has been so long since anyone has managed to make him as enragingly turned on as he is now. Flashes of images of you being fucked relentlessly by him appear in his mind as he fantasises, and how he can already imagine your taste that probably won’t satisfy him, utterly insatiable.

Without thinking twice, he places both hands on your waist from behind, his fingers tingling at the sensation of your body as he allows his hands to roam around your curves with perverse intent. Your body feels so undeniably right in his hands, as though you were always meant to be held by him. Instead of feeling alarmed, you remain relaxed and loose, swaying along to the music with the supposed stranger behind you.

You allow him to pull you closer until your butt cheek hits his hardness, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the solid sensation, and yet you can’t seem to stop dancing. You unintentionally grind yourself back against him, eliciting a sound between a low groan and growl from the back of his throat that shocks you to the core. Your heart pumps rapidly with anticipation as his hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while his strong arms snake around your waist, locking you in his possession.

In your delirium, you tilt your head up and lean on his shoulder lazily, allowing him to guide your movements instead. His strong cologne is intoxicating as it infiltrates your senses. You hear his low, ragged breaths next to your ear, as though he is struggling to control the bestial side of him before you feel him dipping his head in the curve of your neck, his nose burying in your skin as he inhales your sweet scent that has automatically been engraved in his mind.

A startled gasp leaves your lips when you feel his warm lips touch your skin before he proceeds to kiss your neck sensually. You should be pushing this stranger away, but instead, you allow yourself to fall weak and succumb to the allure of his kisses on your neck. Soft moans leave your lips unabashedly as his lips assault the sensitive spot on your neck, causing his arms to tighten around you at your sweet noises. “You sound just as exquisite as the way you taste.” You hear him murmur those words, or you assume he murmurs those words, since the music is overpowering, but you swear you recognise his voice. 

In a blink of an eye, he spins you around, his hands remaining on your waist. Though the lighting in the club is dim, the LEDs allow you to catch a glimpse of his face. Recognition glimmers in your eyes that is soon followed by mortification at the realisation that you were being brazenly intimate in the middle of the dance floor, as though most people around you weren’t grinding and making out lewdly in the open from earlier.

“Jake.” You utter his name, feeling both confused and aroused while your breath sounds shaky, but the view up close of his fine glory has you foaming at the mouth as your eyes roam around the entirety of him. He looks sinfully attractive in all denims with his chain necklace hooked around his neck, and his long raven hair has been styled impeccably with a few strands hovering over his chiselled forehead. Your eyes catch a sight of a unique inked tattoo of a snake on his collarbone area peeking due to his loose white tee that hangs a little low on his frame.

“The one and only, sweetheart.” You meet his eyes, nearly melting into a puddle when his kissable lips arch into a smirk. You don’t make any protests as you remain numb in his possession. Everything feels surreal, making you doubtful if the man you once had a crush on finally notices you in the way you wanted, but you continue to dance with him, taking him by surprise when you throw your arms around his neck.

You feel your arousal pooling in your womanhood as you see him licking his lips sensually before leaning down and assaulting your now-arched neck with his addicting lips. “I’m glad you came. The party was getting boring without you here.” He says in between kisses while the wet, smacking sound of his lips arouses you greatly. He groans huskily in your ear before nipping your earlobe with his teeth gently. “You look so fucking gorgeous, sweetheart. I can’t get enough of you.”

Your legs nearly go jelly, prompting you to lean dependently into his body, and for a moment, just when you succumb to his dark allure, the truth hits you hard, which propels you to push him away, but he holds you firmly, depriving you of any escape. “You can’t be calling me ‘sweetheart’.” You protest weakly, wanting nothing more than to submit yourself to him completely. He seems to ignore your protest as he leans in to press a sensual kiss on your cheek. “And you definitely can’t be kissing me.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders indifferently. “Why can���t I?” He asks, feigning curiosity in his tone, but the devilish curl at the corner of his lips betrays his mask. 

“Well, you should only be kissing someone you like.” You murmur, your eyes crestfallen as you feel familiarly crushed by the hard truth that he probably doesn’t recognise your voice as it’s been years since you last interacted with him, not that you expect him to. Plus, your masquerade mask obscures half of your identity, so there is absolutely no way he even bothered to remember you. “You probably don’t even recognise me, let alone know my name─”

“Y/N,” Jake tilts your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his firm eyes, his gaze holding genuine integrity and recognition. Upon seeing your eyes widening in surprise, his features soften as he caresses your cheek tenderly. “How could I not recognise you?”

You immediately recover by relaxing your muscles and allowing him to pull you closer until his prominent bulge presses into you. Your heart races at his dark gaze that smoulders with an unmistakable desire before he looks down at your lips. “We really shouldn’t be like this, and you can’t kiss me again.” You try to reason with him, but you lack tenacity, as evident in the way you bask in his warmth.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder what goes on in his mind as you notice hesitation in his eye before the familiar mischief that you recognise returns to his countenance. With one arm locked around your waist, he uses the other to cup your cheek. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re at a party, so there are no restrictions. It’s completely normal for us to be kissing, especially on the dance floor.”

You fall into the deceit he covertly orchestrates, his voice a mellow in your ears that renders you nearly bare your soul to him. “Really?” Your tone holds such pure innocence; it is a calling to his corruption, bringing a smirk to his lips, loving how gullible and adorably naive you are as you stare at him with sparkling eyes.

“Of course it is. If you didn’t know it yet, this is my domain, so we can do whatever the fuck we want, and no one would dare to question what you do.” Jake says with an attractive drawl in his voice before leaning in to whisper in your ear, his husky voice intensifying the need pooling in you incessantly. “Besides, I do like you.”

“You do?” Your eyes widen while butterflies awaken in your tummy. “Why?” You can’t help but feel doubtful of his declaration, fearing that he is being a total Casanova, as he always has been throughout the years you have known him.

“You’re a nice and sweet girl, so, so perfect for me. How could I not like you?” Jake gives you a charming smile, and just like that, you fall for his irresistible charm. He presses his body into you, feeling you up while the distance between your lips slowly decreases. “My sweet girl.”

If you could verbally purr right now, you would, but instead, you lean closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder, basking in the newfound comfort and safety in his arms. You feel him pressing his lips on the side of your head, causing your lips to twitch into a content smile, oblivious to the devilry he has been keeping at bay.

“Someone as pure as you shouldn’t have come here,” Jake whispers softly, almost inaudible due to the overpowering music, but there is no mistaking the darkness lacing his once-mellow tone. “Now that you’re here, there is no way I’d ever let you go after this.”

Instead of being fearful of the discernible obsession in the way he speaks, you snuggle into him, loving the idea of being his forever. “Don’t let me go, Jake.” You plead softly, but even you know that you are not entirely in your right mind. In this moment, you simply don’t care, only wanting his attention and affection.

Jake smirks at you, his eyes glinting with devilry and satisfaction, successfully having you, the renowned Y/N kang and the emblem of purity, right in his possession. “Be careful what you wish for, my lovely dearest.”

Your face twists into a grimace as you feel your head throbbing, but your steps never falter as you continue your search for any restroom in this broad club, wanting to cleanse your hands as well as to recuperate yourself after spending all of your energy on the dance floor. You recall how disappointed you were when your moment with Jake was cut short as he had to leave in a hurry for some reason, not before giving you a kiss on the cheek. Maybe what happened between you and your first crush was purely in the heat of a moment, and just maybe the words that left the casanova’s mouth weren’t genuine, but you have never felt as contented as you were earlier.

You release a sigh of relief upon seeing the washroom signage after ten minutes of walking around in confusion, and it looks like this is the only washroom in this club. You hope that there is no one inside, but just as you push open the door, you are greeted by a strong yet odious smell with smoke wafting in the air in an enclosed space, causing your nose to automatically crinkle in disgust.

The moment your eyes land on four figures occupying the corner part of the washroom, you freeze, because not only do they have their attention fixated on you, but also because you recognise the masks that obscure their identity. They appear to have finished smoking some sort of substance, but whether or not it’s illegal, you can’t bring yourself to care about it, because the only thing you are very much hyperaware of is the danger that emits from them, and the red LED that surrounds the place only seems to make them appear more villainous than they already are.

You try to find your voice, to utter an apology or anything that can excuse your unintentional intrusion, because as much as you despise the Devil’s Knights, you know better than to be on your high horse in their territory, but you tremble with fear as they begin to approach you, similar to predators toying with their prey, no doubt having ill intent towards you. Your mind is screaming at you to flee, but your entire body feels paralysed to even move back an inch.

Before you can even silently utter a prayer, the door behind you is pushed open in a manner that suggests that whoever it is, they seem to be barging into the washroom urgently. Just as you are about to turn around and see who it is, his voice startles you greatly. “You guys just love to piss me off. How many times do I have to tell you bastards that no smoking is allowed in the washroom?” His voice is devoid of any warmth, sending a familiar yet unpleasant chill down your spine. “If I see you pulling this shit again, you’ll have Heeseung as well to deal with. Get out, now.” 

Without a word, the four knights waste no time in departing the washroom, sparing you no glance as though your presence is merely non-existent. Despite the disconcerting chill you feel in being in the same vicinity as him, you find it a tad humorous how he seems to have saved you from his own underlings, even though you doubt that it was his intention. Yet, you can’t help but be in awe at his commanding presence alone, managing to overpower theirs all together.

Their final departure now leaves you entirely alone with the guy you never want to be anywhere near his vicinity. Painful awkwardness envelops you amidst the disconcerting silence, but you force yourself to take steps forward, albeit unsteadily, as the alcohol in your system returns to delay your reaction time and the fact that you feel his gaze burning into your figure. Somehow, you manage to find your voice. “Just so you’re expecting a thank you from me, I didn’t need your help, Sunghoon.”

You ignore his degrading chuckles that sound like painful shards of mirrors cutting through you. “Sure, you didn’t. You looked perfectly capable of defending yourself even when you were practically trembling.” His sarcasm causes your eyes to twitch in annoyance, but you try your best to ignore him as you proceed to wash your hands in the washbasin.

Though you are somewhat still under the influence of alcohol, you feel conscious enough to avoid any further unnecessary confrontation with him. Plus, there is absolutely no way Sunghoon knows who you are because of your masquerade mask and the fact that you haven’t formally interacted with him in your uni years until now. But when you accidentally meet his eyes in the mirror, you want nothing more than to bury yourself deep 6 feet under at the cruel recognition in his eyes.

You don’t dare to move an inch as he stalks you from behind. “You know, you made a big mistake by coming here.” He says in a sinfully attractive drawl. “It’s funny because I never would have thought that you would dare to step foot in a place that is not suited for someone like you. Guess you proved me wrong, princess.”

Maybe you were wrong, because from the implication in his remarks, you have a strong inkling that he knows who you are, or maybe you are just reading it all wrongly. Still, you turn around to face him, masking a bravado that you hope will convince him that you are someone else. “You think you know me?” Your tone holds an unrecognisable confidence in your ears. “I couldn’t even be bothered to prove you wrong, out of all people.”

“Careful with how you speak to me.” Sunghoon nearly growls out, unconcealing his true feelings towards you that feel rather on a personal level for reasons beyond your comprehension. He is unrelenting in each step of torment towards you, prompting you to back up until your lower back hits the sink behind you, preventing you from any escape as he is closing in on you. “You think you can act all mighty and arrogant just because you’re wearing that mask? Are you seriously taking me for a fool?”

His strong cologne hits you like an intoxicating wave, sending mixed signals to your brain as you feel both fear and attraction towards him, eliciting an inaudible whimper from you. You hate how he looks sinfully attractive up close with the red LED that enhances his impeccable visual that complements the menacing ambience he exudes.

Your heart pumps harder as his lips curve into a devilish smirk while his eyes look more callous than they did before. “Let me tell you something, princess. I don’t give a fuck whether or not you decide to prove anything to me. Even the way you dress up like a slut has no effect on me.” His voice is laced with venom, holding an unmistakable hatred for you that you can’t help but feel a stab of hurt in your chest.

Before you can muster any possible comeback, voices approaching the restroom from the outside render you alarmed. Sunghoon looks indifferent, but he takes you by complete surprise when he grabs you firmly by the arm before practically shoving you inside the only cubicle this restroom has. For a moment, you feel thankful to him when you manage to hide away at the perfect timing when they enter the restroom. 

But any gratitude to him is short-lived when Sunghoon pushes you up against the side wall with his palm covering your mouth while his dark eyes are glaring into yours heatedly, silently commanding you to shut the fuck up, and you do. The close proximity between the heat of your bodies barely manages to register in your head when familiar voices echo in the restroom, causing your eyes to widen in panic.

“Did you see the bitch getting all handsy over her as soon as she noticed me? It makes me feel whole lot better knowing that my ex-girlfriend obviously could never find anyone better than me.” There is no doubt that’s Kim Minjeong, aka Winter, her voice burning with resentment and arrogance.

Sunghoon feels your lips trembling in his palm before even noticing the entirety of you trembling with visible fear and anxiety in your eyes, and it is much worse when the girls outside clearly need to use the cubicle, as evident by their remarks in between the conversations. He knows that he’s supposed to take great pleasure in your fear of being discovered by your friends, but instead, there is this maddening sense of pity for you and the disbelieving fact that deep down, he feels inclined to help you with this inescapable situation, especially since one of them is already knocking on the door of the cubicle.

“Hello? Care to hurry up and help out a girl in need to use the toilet here?” Sunghoon rolls his eyes at the familiar sass that belongs to Giselle’s voice. “Seriously, are you taking a huge dump or something?”

Before you can panic further, your heart only pumps harder when Sunghoon leans in next to your ear, his breath caressing your earlobe. “You gotta trust me on this, princess. Just follow my lead and play along unless you want to get caught.” He whispers softly, but his tone holds an undertone of warning while his demand makes you feel instinctively submissive towards him.

Since you obviously have no choice but to comply, you give him a head nod, only to be rendered flabbergasted when he swiftly hoists you up against the wall with his hands, carrying you by the thighs with ease before he begins to grind into you, allowing you to feel something vulgar that is relentlessly in contact with your womanhood. Little do you know that in order for both of you to fully convince the girls outside, he needs to be really into you, and he finds it insatiable yet surprising by the fact that his cock manages to get hard because of you sooner than he thought.

Well, to be fair, Sunghoon knows that he cannot deny the irresistible beauty in his arms, all dolled up gorgeously that no doubt have many heads turn to you in one night. The skimpy white dress that accentuates your curves does nothing to help abate the salacious fantasy that has been playing in the back of his mind ever since he saw you from afar earlier. His ego flares when he notices you biting down on your lips, knowing that he is making you feel good in the pleasure contorting your angelic features.

You feel good, sinfully good, as his now-bulging erection hits you distinctly in the clit, your eyelids fluttering between closing and keeping them open to focus on him. You lean the back of your head on the wall, presenting your bare neck to his dark eyes, and your chest heaves heavily from the intensity of this newfound pleasure. This should be considered blasphemous to you, and yet you can’t resist stopping as you put in effort, rubbing your clit harder against him while he feels entirely smug to witness how pathetically desperate you are.

An accidental moan leaves your lips when you feel your clit being stimulated at a new height, making you highly sensitive as both of you continue to hump dry against each other like desperate lovers. The last of consciousness slips, and eventually you can’t be bothered to hide the sounds you have been keeping at bay. 

“What the fuck?” Giselle utters loudly in disbelief while the other girls make noises and remarks that express their disgust, especially as they assume that there is indeed a couple doing the deed with the way there is a continuous thudding sound against the wall. “I don’t know about you girls, but I definitely do not want to use a cubicle that’s been used by couples who fucked, like seriously, out of all places?”

You barely notice the girls’ departure from the restroom, only focusing on his extremely hard cock that continues to press and grind into your clit deliciously while moans continue to spill from your lips. He smirks down at you, his fang-like teeth peeking from his lips, feeling both aroused and amused at how pathetic yet adorable you are being highly sensitive and loud just by getting your clit stimulated. Oh, he is definitely going to have so much fun toying around with you.

“Sunghoon, we can stop now. I think they’re gone.” You manage to utter breathlessly in between moans after gaining consciousness, hearing nothing but only the sound of your moans that echo off these walls. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment, having no idea that you could get awfully loud.

Instead of agreeing with you, Sunghoon doesn’t seem like he has any intention to stop as he continues to grind his cock against your throbbing clit, intensifying the pleasure that courses through your body. You try to push him away by the chest, but you lack the conviction as you fall weak, succumbing to this twisted pleasure as you grind back on him. Your hips begin to stutter while your stomach tightens at the sensation of something delicious yet inevitable, feeling your bundle of nerves threaten to implode.

“Sunghoon.” His name sounds heavenly coming out from your moaning mouth, and the control he has over the remnants of his restraint finally snaps the same way any ill feelings he has towards you dissipate, being replaced by a driven need to ruin you.

Just as you nearly reach your climax, Sunghoon halts his movement, eliciting a needy whine from you, but you know that he is not done with you when he manhandles you into a position where you find yourself being bent over with your palms on the wall supporting your body, presenting half of your vulnerability for him to manipulate with perverse intent.

You gasp at the intrusion of his fingers sliding underneath your white lace underwear from behind, feeling them travelling further down until they make real contact with your aching womanhood while your clit throbs. “Damn, princess. You got this wet for me?” He asks smugly as his fingers continue to play around your sticky slicks sensually, causing your senses to heighten by the fact that you are evidently wet. “If I knew you were a pathetic, needy whore, I would’ve had my fun with you before anyone could.”

If anything, his degradation and dominance over you only turn you on painfully as your pussy is aching to be relieved. “Sunghoon, please.” You find yourself pleading with him, hoping that he would either cease this torment or give you further pleasure.

“My needy, slutty princess.” His voice drips with cruel mockery, and before you know it, his fingers plunge into your tight hole, eliciting a gasp from you at the painful intrusion. He hisses lowly, marvelling at how tight you are as your walls clench around him. “Don’t tense up. You’d only be hurting yourself if you don’t relax.”

For a guy who clearly despises you, he is actually capable of giving you advice as you follow, slowly yet unsteadily unclenching your walls around his fingers, but you still feel tight. Nevertheless, he resumes his assault, his strong, unyielding fingers delving rhythmically into your wet cunt while moans tumble past your lips. You have never felt anything like this — sickeningly and intimately invasive, and yet you never want this pleasure to end as you fuck back into his fingers.

It is mesmerising in the way you move, fuelling his fantasy with you that awakens the beast within him. Sunghoon scoffs as you express your desperation with your body before he deprives you of reaching the heights of your pleasure. You barely have time to register anything when he grabs you by the neck, his fingers circling around your throat and pulling you up roughly until your back hits his chest.

“S-Sunghoon—” You let out a sound between a gasp and a moan when his sticky fingers that are coated with your slick come in contact with your clit from the front, making your eyes roll to the back while you fall weak in his unyielding hold, your back arching off his front.

“I’m not stopping until you make a mess on my fingers, princess.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers rubbing your clit in a maddening precision that has your thighs trembling from the onslaught of pleasure. “It’s cute how you could cum just by getting your clit played. You’re so fucking sensitive, and it’s pathetic. Imagine if people see you now? They’d be seeing how much of a needy slut the renowned good girl is for me.”

Sunghoon continues his insult and degradation while expertly multitasking in hurtling you to the edge of ecstasy, making you feel as though you have found a different type of heaven. You don’t miss the way his lips would graze against your jawline while his fingers around your neck tighten, sending you an odd fluttery sensation to your heart amidst this heady cocktail of lust and intoxication that surrounds you.

You can feel the knot forming in your stomach while your clit is aching tremendously for it to implode, and with the last of your moans echoing in the enclosed space, you finally come undone violently with a shuddering release, your lips parting at the delicious onslaught of pleasure while your body convulses in his hold. You begin to feel overstimulated when he continues to rub and press the padding of his fingers into your clit, eliciting a whimper from you, before he travels further below where your slick cum is prevalent, prompting him to deliberately coat his fingers with your wetness.

Still reeling in the aftermath from your high, you feel dazed, allowing him to manhandle you again as he turns you around to face him, only for him to shove his fingers covered in your cum into your mouth. You snap out of it when a certain yet foreign taste hits your tongue, feeling utterly revolted, but his dark eyes penetrate into yours, warning you that there would be consequences if you refuse to comply.

“Suck on them, princess.” Sunghoon commands, his voice sounding huskier with a patent lust. You obey despite the unpleasant sensation of the slick’s thickness, your tongue swirling around his fingers sloppily yet sensually while you maintain eye contact with him. He groans internally while he feels his cock hardening even more upon seeing how innocent you look with your pretty eyes staring up at him as you continue to suck his fingers messily, and yet there is an air of seduction emitting from you, your eyelashes fluttering and your head bobbing back and forth.

Eventually, Sunghoon pulls his fingers away from your mouth with the string of your saliva connected to them, and yet he doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it as he inserts those same fingers into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your cum. You look at him with your cheeks flushed warmly, completely flabbergasted at the fact that he is tasting the mixture of your saliva and cum. You expect him to utter another insult or vulgar remark to you again, but instead, he casts you a smirk, his eyes glinting with danger and lust before he makes his departure from the cubicle, leaving you entirely breathless and wondering what the fuck just happened.

You stagger a step back before leaning your back against the wall, trying to wrap your head around the fact that it was far more intimate than what you had with Jake earlier. The realisation of the heated moment that escalated between you and him hits you like a brick, and the worst part is the fact that you don’t even feel any regret or remorse over the loss of your innocence, albeit it wasn’t the actual genital part. If anything, you want him to give you another mind-blowing session of being fucked purely by his fingers alone.

You immediately snap out of your sinful fantasy and force yourself to pull together. You can’t allow something like that to happen again, because you know that deep down, you would fully succumb to it with no way out. You shake your head and release a sigh before making your way to the washbasin to wash your hands, and if only it would be possible for you to cleanse your entire body. Your eyes examine your tousled appearance in the mirror, only to be taken aback by the smudge of your lipstick. 

Thankfully, you bring the lipstick with you, and you reach out for your mini leg bag that is attached at the side of your thigh. You reapply the lipstick on your lips after wiping any possible wet excess on your face and fix your appearance to make yourself look as decent as possible, because frankly speaking, you looked like a woman who just had mind-blowing sex with a hot stranger.

You proceed to make your way back to the bar, but you feel uncomfortable as you can feel the remnants of your wet slick smeared on your panties. Nevertheless, you put on a facade just as your best friends turn to you, finally returning to the bar that they left first earlier.

“We were looking for you, babe.” Yunjin tells you, carefully observing you as you take a seat at your original stool. “Where did you go?”

“To the restroom.” You simply reply, your tone betraying none of the whirlpool of emotions within you. “Felt a little overwhelmed. You know me; I’m not a fan of big places, but I’m trying.” Thankfully, they seem to have bought your excuse.

“So we were planning to have a shots challenge.” Karina tells you with a grin, a mischievous one that has you arching your eyebrows at. “I’ll explain later, but are you up for it? It’ll be fun!”

“Of course.” You say without any hesitation, causing Wonyoung to look at you with doubt in her eyes, but you ignore her. If this challenge could help you to forget whatever happened in the restroom, then you are more than willing to participate. Not minutes later, the challenge begins to take its place as you stare at the small shot glasses in front of you. Just before you can take your first shot, another realisation strikes you hard, because you remember the look in his eyes and how he speaks to you as well as the words he spoke — he knew who you actually were.

The cacophony of revellers and resounding music gradually ebbs in the background as he ambles along the sombre corridor, where the lights illuminating in every corner seeming ominously dim, heading towards the main meeting room where it is situated in the prohibited part of the manor, his shadow following closely like a spectre of menace. Jake, who was previously in denims, has changed into practical attire in preparation for the upcoming launch of the main event. He busily zips up his black bomber jacket while his face is devoid of the usual mirth, but his mind occasionally drifts off to you as though the memory of him holding you close is taunting him. 

A muscle jumps in his jaw. Jake had no intention of leaving you high and dry, but he was needed in order to stabilise the final foundation that will affect everything in the town where they will soon wreak havoc and spread terror, leaving no hope to shine through. It took every strength to fight off his temptation to snatch you away from the place and bring you to one of the rooms with the intention of giving you the best fuck of your life as well as leaving you with his marks on your skin. He forces himself to block you from invading his mind, not wanting to get a painful boner again as it’ll only be a bother since he is already running late for the briefing.

Jake’s ears pick up footsteps approaching from behind him, and yet he doesn’t bother to look, knowing that it is his best friend in the way he doesn’t feel the slightest bit threatened. “You’d usually arrive in the meeting room earlier than any of us. Been busy partying like the rest too, Hoon?” 

Silence is the only response from his best friend, not that he was expecting any from a guy who often zones out. Unbeknownst to Jake, Sunghoon’s mind is occupied by you and you alone. The only difference is that he has no intention to recall his encounter with you, but his mind is taunting him with the sinful memory of your sweet, seductive sounds while you voluntarily fucked yourself back on his fingers, and above all, the sweet taste of your cum that remains tingling on his tongue. He knows that he should not allow something like that to happen again, but even he has to admit that one taste of you is never enough.

Sunghoon pulls himself together before getting further into his salacious crave for you as they are nearly arriving at the official territory where it breeds corruption and toxication, not limited to the secrets hidden behind walls after walls.

They halt their steps, standing in front of the door that is made out of steel. Sunghoon gives Jake a head nod, prompting the latter to punch in the correct code on the digital padlock before the door chimes as it automatically opens for them. They are greeted by the familiar sight of a fairly lengthy corridor with separate entrances arrayed on each side of the walls as they step inside. Hearing the door behind them closing with an ominous thud, they begin to make their way to the main meeting room, where soon multitudes of voices are teeming in the cold atmosphere.

Without announcing their arrival, they stride into the main meeting room with an air of confidence and arrogance, drawing everyone’s attention to them as they recognise the familiar dominance they exude, rendering those beneath them to be prudently heedful to the power they wield with the same hands that had done an unthinkable amount of vicious damage.

A small smirk touches Jake’s lips as he takes delight in receiving the attention, practically thriving off it, whereas Sunghoon appears coldly indifferent with his hands tucked in his pockets, but they merely ignore the underlings from all four houses as they are settled and organised in their respective houses while their chatter and hilarity persist in a blending discordant. 

“I expected Jake to lack the decency in arriving at the meeting on time like always, but I didn’t expect you to be following Jake’s footsteps so soon, Sunghoon.” Of course, the only person in this room that loves to get on Sunghoon’s nerves is none other than Jay. “Don’t tell me you’re already hopping back on the fuckboy agenda? I thought you’d long since retired, buddy.” Jay casts a smirk at Sunghoon, casually lounging on a leather swivel chair with both legs settled on the table, and no doubt his signature smirk would make anyone swoon, but to the latter, it is simply infuriating that he is seconds away from delivering a punch to his face.

“Don’t piss us off, Jongseong.” Jake clicks his tongue in annoyance before throwing himself onto an empty swivel chair and making himself comfortable. “Better late than never.”

Jay’s smirk falls, only to shoot Jake a scowl. “Stop calling me that. You know how much I hate being called that.”

Jake, completely undeterred by the potential wrath he might face from his short-tempered best friend, retorts with a taunting smirk. “Then stop being an annoying dick. And you wonder why you can’t get into relationships with how fucking mouthy you are.”

Jay clenches his jaw, taunting with tension. “Says the guy who fucks girls on a daily basis. Probably a walking STI by now.” Sunghoon finds himself amused by their quarrel, but he replace his chuckles with a cough as soon as Jake shoots him a glare.

“The last time I checked, I was clean and safe, so fuck you—”

“Enough.” A firm voice is resonating enough to conquer the tumult of disarray in the massive room, instantaneously silencing everyone and shifting their attention to the only person in the room who has not uttered a single word since he stepped foot here, including drawing attention from the three leaders gathered by the conference table.

Heeseung’s figure remains eerily still as he is seated by the window sill, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other sporadically toys around with his prized melee, and something appears to have captured his high interest in the way his gaze is fixated on the opened window with a cryptic darkness shadows his princely features, but it disappears when he shifts his gaze to the entire fraternity, his gaze alone that is enough to assert dominance over them, especially since he is the oldest out of the four leaders by a year. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you're on time for the meeting. Devil’s Night is far from over, and it’ll only be over until I say so.”

“Classic Heeseung. Playing favourites when it comes to—" Jay grunts at the impact of being elbowed by Sunghoon, who has taken a seat next to him, but he remains disgruntled, casting a glare at the latter.

Heeseung disregards Jay’s remarks as he saunters towards the conference table, where there are ranges of knives displayed for any of their choosing. “Now that everyone is present, let’s begin the briefing. I want to start off by letting you know that the Devil’s Night you thought would be similar to the past years will be different tonight.” As expected, most of the knights erupt into murmurs, a blend of confusion and excitement. “For this year’s Devil’s Night, we're following the tradition of preying whoever you choose to prey on. They’re yours for taking, no matter the duration you want them to be in your possession. They’re yours and yours alone. No exchanging of prey is allowed, and no stealing of prey.”

The knights express their contentment and anticipation, evidently prepared to kickstart in reigning terror on the oblivious crowd in a jovial element currently. But they lower their volume when Sunghoon raises his hand to speak up. “Let’s not forget that we have another goal in mind: Kim Namgil and his crewmates.” Sunghoon looks over to the knights of each house, specifically his. “Do not forget to alert us if there are any movements from them, and remember that they’re ours to deal with.”

“Remember that your main goal is to wreak havoc and terror like you always do on Devil’s Night. Regarding the prey thing that I mentioned earlier, take it like it’s your reward for successfully becoming one of us.” Heeseung says with a smirk. “For those of you who are new recruits and this is your first ever Devil’s Night, the law enforcement should be the least of your worries, so don’t panic if you see a police car in town. They’re only here with the sole purpose of establishing the roadblocks to prevent our guests from escaping until Devil’s Night is over.”

“In short, you can do whatever the fuck you want for the next twelve hours.” Jake grins deviously with his hands clasped together. “In other words, unleash your inner devils like you always wanted.”

At once, an uproar emanates from the fraternity before Jay begins to dismiss them. “Don’t forget your masks and weapons!” He reminds them as they proceed to make their way out of the meeting room disorderly, eventually leaving the four leaders alone in the room — the very same leaders who have been successfully leading their respective houses with pride.

The notorious Devil’s Knights fraternity consists of four houses — North, South, East, and West — chosen names that were established way before their time. Each house has its own respective leader to oversee the houses, as there are more knights than two classes combined in each house. However, their goals are aligned. This has always been the system, as each year there are numerous new recruits, and they do have to dominate their respective territories on campus and even in town. Almost everyone is knowledgeable about and conscious of the notorious Devil's Knights. 

Redcrest University favours the Devil's Knights fervently, especially considering the fraternity was founded many years ago by four individuals whose blood now flows in the current leaders and the previous leaders before them, who are now affluent figures in high society today. Redcrest greatly benefits from Devil’s Knights for many years, including earning fame as it is ranked two in the Best Global University. Many speculated that Devil’s Knights may be a literal cult with an uncountable amount of graduated knights in all those years that are now scattered across the globe, some making their names in various industries, some working for the most powerful people on earth, some even earning seats in diplomacy, but one thing that remains indisputable is that with the depraved principles that had been instilled in them and how deviously smart they are academically, they could easily infiltrate their corruption into the system and reign over every corner of the globe. Or maybe they already have for a long time.

Aside from the deeper, darker part of their world, Devil’s Night is an annual tradition that has been going on since their founders’ times and happens on every Halloween. This tradition is also supported and endorsed by the mayor of Seoul and other influential figures that are highly regarded in the eyes of the government. Hence, there is no denying that by permitting Devil’s Night to be lawful on every Halloween, it proves that the government and its system have long since been corrupted.

All knights would gather in this specific meeting room for briefings and other important matters pertaining to the annual Devil’s Night content and planning, et cetera. However, there are some rooms that are restricted to any knights, be they lower or higher ranks, unless they are the leaders themselves. Furthermore, this very manor is officially owned by the four leaders, considering that it was those from the same bloodline as them whose blood runs deep in this very soil, the ones who invested and established the foundation of this manor, and many years later, the manor, including authority, has been bequeathed to the current leaders.

North: Sunghoon

South: Heeseung

East: Jake

West: Jay

These four powerful delinquents have proven their worth in many aspects of being the ideal Devil’s Knights and have successfully led their respective houses for the past years with their skills, and they were impressively the youngest leaders to have been appointed when they were just freshmen. Though they have different personalities, they get along well, considering that their fathers are best friends as well. But very few people know that they grew up together, and no one knows the burdens they each carry.

“So, I have something to share that might interest you, well, at least one of you.” Jake breaks the silence once the last few knights exit the room. His lips curl into a boyish grin. “Y/N is here; she’s actually here on Devil’s Night. I know, I couldn’t believe it either at first.”

Sunghoon raises his eyebrow inquisitively, feeling something so foreign burning in his chest that he immediately brushes it off. “You saw her?” He asks with disinterest while wearing a mask of indifference.

“I danced with her at the club.” Jake tells him smugly, his grin never faltering. “Even held her and felt so right in my arms. I couldn’t resist her after seeing how she looked like an absolute doll. A gorgeous angel in need of some company. Her friends probably ditched her.”

Sunghoon holds back a smirk from forming on his lips. For a moment, he thought that he might lose to Jake, but in actuality, the real winner is him, as he managed to taste you first and probably the only person to ever taste you.

For some reason, Jay’s body language shows interest in the description of you from the casanova’s mouth. “Let me have some fun with her first before the main event starts. I need to see her with my own eyes. No way am I missing out on a beauty like Y/N Kang, and it’s the Y/N Kang on Devil’s Night.”

Before Heeseung can say anything, one of the windows swings open, followed by an eerie howl, allowing the gust of wind to enter. The four leaders watch, completely unfazed by their dramatic entrance in a supposedly clandestine way, as a familiar figure wholly in familiar dark, practical clothing emerges as he climbs into the meeting room, followed by two figures that donned the same.

The three figures who have yet to make their identity known stand tall in their line of sight, and one of them even manages to tower over the four leaders. Simultaneously they proceed to remove their designated masks, now revealing their faces. Jake is the first person to greet them with a lopsided grin. They are known as the Devil’s Knights’ honorary members, above any lower and higher rank Knights, and they are only in their second year in Redcrest, skilful and perceptive sophomores more than any of their peers. Every Knight knows that these three are appointed to be leaders next year once the four current leaders step down and graduate from the university. Kim Sunoo, Yang Jungwon, and Nishimura Riki.

“We’ve already covered all the perimeters as you ordered. The roadblocks have been established too, and our team did their part to warn the people in town that are not part of the Devil’s Night’s guests to stay indoors.” Jungwon informs them, speaking like a true leader, as the ambience he exudes makes the current leaders feel a sense of pride.

“Spit it out.” Sunghoon says as he eyes Sunoo knowingly, causing the latter to roll his eyes at him. “Roll your eyes at me again and they’ll fall out. I can’t even count how many times I let you get away with this attitude of yours.”

“I was about to say it, but then you just made me not want to say it anymore.” Sunoo scoffs, albeit he is merely being playful, but his remark is not appreciated by the four leaders, who deadpan at him, causing him to sigh. “Alright, fine. Kim Namgil managed to sneak into our grounds with the rest of his crewmates, but we can easily overpower them. Oh, and Riki managed to place a tracking device on their vehicle, so it’s easier to track wherever they go.” Sunoo pats Riki on the shoulder with a proud smile while the latter grunts from the impact, his face a cold mask of nonchalance. 

“I don’t even want to ask what Namgil did to piss you off to a certain degree until you want to hunt him down.” Jungwon mutters, pausing briefly before continuing with a not-so-discreet guile. “So what did he do, anyway?”

“Simply put, he broke one of our rules.” Jay’s answer is short and comprehensible, yet the three musketeers are sharp enough to notice that there is actually more than what they let on, but they choose the safer ground instead, knowing that as much as the current leaders adore them in their own way, even they know that there are lines not to be crossed.

“So is Namgil the main hunt for this year’s Devil’s Night?” Sunoo asks with genuine curiosity. “Just asking since you guys were hell-bent on finding him for 2 years after he got transferred to another uni. It makes sense that he’s the main hunt.”

“No.” Heeseung’s voice is firm with conviction, drawing their attention to him with collective confusion. A smirk touches his lips while his eyes darken with primal danger. “Our main hunt is Y/N Kang.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw her, and she looks like an absolute darling—Wait, what?!” Sunoo looks puzzled and borderline horrified. “Out of all people? I’m begging you, just this once, please don’t kill her. She’s too pretty to be killed. I haven’t even gotten her to be my friend yet!”

“Sunoo.” Jungwon rolls his eyes at his best friend’s theatrics, whereas Riki gives him a side eye.

“No, Sunoo, we’re not killing her, and we have no intention to.” Heeseung heaves a sigh, tempted to rub his temple at the younger’s theatrics. “But we’ve decided that she’s our prey for the night.”

“You mean you decided.” Jake corrects him, his lips downturned into a frown because as much as he likes the idea of hunting you, he feels the same confusion as the other two. “Why Y/N, specifically?”

Heeseung doesn’t answer; instead, his smirk widens while the familiar cryptic danger shadows his features once more as he looks at the three leaders. “I trust that there are no objections from you, so you can do whatever you want with our prey, but do not in any way harm her that might put her life at risk.” He shifts his eyes to the three sophomores. “You may scare our prey and offer us any aid, but you are not allowed to make her your prey.”

“Roger that, bossman.” Jungwon salutes to Heeseung before signalling Riki and Sunoo to leave. The leaders do not expect anything less when the three proceed to jump over the window instead of using the door to leave like any normal human would.

“Don’t forget to inform your respective house members to steer clear of Y/N. But remember this, she may be your prey and yours to claim—" There is an undercurrent of warning and predatory claim in his voice as he nearly growls out his words to them while his eyes darken. “But at the end of the night, she’s mine.” The three exchange looks of understanding because somehow, they perfectly understand what he meant.

You hate to admit it, but you are falling deep into the abysmal depths of toxicity faster than you planned. What was once the intention to taste a minuscule fragment of Halloween fun turns into something that has consumed you completely, rendering you addicted to whatever sorcery they put in their beverages and music. 

As you are free from those little voices in your head that often judge anyone that isn’t suited to your moral compass, you can definitely understand the rationale of those who had been to Devil’s Night and the ones who were vocally hyped for Devil’s Night. The content and activities being hosted here are so diverse that no one can simply miss out on anything. Well, you did miss out on the famous cliché game of truth or dare, not that it bothered you.

Presently, you and your group of friends, including Winter, Giselle, and the others, are making your way back to the backyard once more after getting some refreshments earlier, needing some respite after going nearly all out for the first rave. With the drinks you ingested that recharged you and your friends, all of you decided to participate in the second rave, and according to them, it is the last rave of the night. But you have no idea what happens after, and your friends don’t either. Nevertheless, you are looking forward to having more fun with your friends, marking this the most memorable night you ever had.

The B-stage in the backyard is bigger than the one inside the manor at the supposedly club room, where you and Jake happened, and the crowd is now tenfold compared to the previous rave, which enlivened the night at its peak while the ambience is vibrantly teeming with the pink and purple LEDs flashing across the sea of crowds and into the starless sky. The bass-boosted music of Rihanna’s ‘S & M’ reverberates throughout the expanse of the manor and possibly even further, and you wonder if the residents in the same town do complain about the noise.

“Look at Y/N go!” Giselle’s remarks draw attention from your other friends to you, watching you in a vivacious element as you flaunt your moves alongside Chaewon, having long since let go of your inhibitions. Your face is now devoid of the white masquerade mask, not remembering where you threw it haphazardly. You’re not even sure if you are dancing with your cunty bob friend or grinding against some stranger, lacking spatial awareness.

“Okay! I need a break!” Chaewon laughs out, halting her movements, but you pout your lips at her, to which she giggles and pecks your cheek. “Sorry, babe, but you’re on your own now. Anyone want to head back to get some refreshments with me?”

A few of your friends do, and they proceed to depart from the bustling crowd as they follow Chaewon while the rest are either too drunk to notice that they are apart from each other or getting immersed in the upbeat music. Eventually, you blend into the crowd, making it impossible for your best friends to find you in this sea of people.

The thought of other warm, sweaty bodies coming into contact with yours doesn’t bother you in the slightest. There is a wild look in your eyes as you dance with a random couple, giggling and succumbing to the exhilaration brimming in your veins like white-hot fire; your body moves with fluidity to the pulsating beat of the music.

Being completely absorbed in the music, you fail to heed the incoming predator, who has his eyes fixated on you as soon as he manages to find the beauty that was described in detail once more from his best friend. Besides, it’s nearly impossible to look away from you even just for a second, because damn, you got him in some sort of spellbind. Just as he expects, you accidentally bump into him from behind, but just as you are about to turn around, his firm hands grip your waist as he pulls you back to him, allowing your back to hit his solid chest.

For a moment, your lips curl into a smile, a familiar giddiness bubbling in your chest while a sense of déjà vu hits you. “He’s right. You look so fucking gorgeous, like a doll, my doll for the night and many more to come.” His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while everything in the moment reminds you of Jake earlier, but this time, his touch has a hint of roughness, whereas there was gentleness in Jake’s, causing you to falter. “Now, why did you stop, babydoll? It’s just me. Don’t tell me you don’t recognise me.” He hums seductively while you can feel the vibration from his chest.

“Jay.” You breathe out as you finally recognise his voice in the haze of your mind. His hands remain on your waist, sending you goosebumps with the sensation of his warmth and danger as your primal instincts manage to get a hold of you to evade him, but it just feels so right to be close to him.

“Hey, baby.” Jay greets you affectionately, causing you to nearly melt against him, but the undertone of deceit in his way of affection is not lost on you, and yet you feel tempted to bare your soul to him with your head resting on his dependent shoulder. You tilt your head to an angle where his sharp jawline and handsome side profile greet you. Your eyes flicker to his pink lips, finding the silver ring hooked around his lower lip in the corner an attractive look on him. Your heart flutters when he gazes at you, his head angling in a way that his nose brushes against yours as he leans down.

Just when you are prepared for his lips to meet yours, he grabs your hand before raising it to give a sensual kiss on the back of your hand. “Don’t get all weak on me now, babydoll. You still have to show me your moves.” The signature smirk on his handsome face is all it takes for you to comply with his command, and you know better than to refuse him.

So you pull away from his warm embrace as soon as you feel his arms loosening around you. Like a natural, you immediately grasp onto the upbeat rhythm that pulsates through your body, allowing it to influence the alluring sway of your body, intentionally enticing the very man you were supposed to evade as his dark eyes roam around you with an explicit desire, almost ravenous, almost as if he wants you — one of the Devil’s Knights’ leaders wants you.

The realisation that this man, who wields the corruptive kind of power, is in fact a Devil’s Knights’ leader nearly has you faltering, but he deprives you of the chance to rethink your choices when he pulls you by the waist with a hint of roughness before taking you by complete surprise as he slams his lips into yours, kissing you with a sense of urgency. You moan airily into his mouth as he practically devours your lips with raw passion; your hands go winding in his hair while his hands are all over you, insatiable.

Jay groans lowly into your mouth as your fingers give a pleasurable tug on his strands. He knows that he should not be kissing you first, not when Heeseung hasn’t even yet, but time is running out, and he couldn’t just leave for his post without having a taste of your luscious lips. He smirks against your lips, feeling you arching your body into him and attempting to grind against him not-so-discreetly. He fucking loves it when you are being cutely desperate for relief.

Eventually, Jay breaks the liplock, allowing you a brief moment of respite, only for him to turn you around until your back hits his chest again, swaying to the music with you audaciously grinding your ass against his really prominent bulge, eliciting an attractive low groan from him at the sensation while you continue to tease him. A giggle leaves your lips upon feeling his breath tickling your skin when he buries his head into the curve of your neck. Instinctively, your hand ascends to brush your fingers through his soft strands, getting intoxicatingly immersed in the heat of the moment.

“Fuck, babydoll. I should’ve brought you home with me sooner. We could've had so much fun," Jay murmurs near your ear before he places a sensual kiss on your pulse, and just like with Jake, you feel the need to purr at his relentless affection over you. “The things I want to do to you right now.” He whispers in your ear huskily, igniting a pool of desire in your lower tummy. “But duty calls. I’ll see you later, baby.”

You frown at the loss of his touch and warmth. “Jay, don’t leave─” But as you turn around, Jay disappears as though he never existed, leaving you high and dry just like Jake did. Birds of a feather flock together indeed. You scoff in disbelief with the need pooling in your abate. 

“Y/N, for the love of God, do not ever disappear like that again! You got me so worried!” Wonyoung’s exclamation can easily be heard over the commotion as soon as you spot her just a few meters away from you.

Your face twists into a grimace at how visible the annoyance and frustration written on her face is, but you feel unease at the way her eyes hold a blend of apprehension and panic. Soon, you spot Karina and Yunjin gravitating towards you with the same apprehension on their faces. Just like that, you become conscious of your primal instincts, warning you that something big is about to happen and it is inevitable. You take a step forward to your best friends, but the music instantly dies out while the LEDs that were previously in motion go still in the air, eliciting confusion and anger from the crowd.

“What’s happening?” “Hey, DJ! We weren’t finished raving!” You hear commotions around you, making your already pounding head spin lightly. But what happens next throws you completely off guard, and subsequently, you become fully sober miraculously.

The deafening sound of a siren rings through your ears, which is akin to the purge, shattering the night of riotous jollity instantaneously. Despite the perpetual blaring siren, you can discern a dissatisfactory chorus of groans and clamours amongst the crowd. The LEDs begin to dim before it changes into crimson, but you manage to catch glimpses of your friends' contortions with confusion and collective percipience.

Before you can open your mouth to speak with the intention to enquire, a stentorian voice that belongs to a female startles you, as it is resounding enough for you to absorb her emphatic words into your mind despite the ongoing siren in the background.

"Announcing the commencement of the annual devil's night sanctioned by the mayor of Seoul. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorised for use during Devil's Night. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Blessed be the four leaders of Devil's Knights."

At once, the tumultuous crowd begins to disperse in a haphazard manner, and some can be seen running as though they are being hunted down by unknown sources. Despite the fear in their contortion, you can't help but notice the glimpses of excitement and an eccentric ambience of thrill that pervade the haunting atmosphere that you find perplexingly odd.

Apprehension courses through your veins while your heart is palpitating wildly. You swear you can hear your pulse drumming loudly in your ears. In the midst of the ambiguity, your intuition is sending you a message that what may escalate next is not something you expected on a purported Halloween night routine, or rather, assumed.

"Ouch! Hey!" Annoyance bubbles within you upon having been shoved roughly by some people, resulting in you nearly plummeting to the ground if it weren’t for Yunjin, who swiftly and steadily supports you as she holds you against her.

"What is going on?" You ask in a demand, pure confusion reflecting in your eyes. You notice how Yunjin looks oddly collected, but as soon as her gaze runs over you, her eyebrows pull together before a low cuss is elicited from her. “Yunjin, nothing bad is going to happen, right? You promised.” You accuse weakly, your voice trembling as fear has you in a tight grip.

"I told you that it was a bad idea for her to come along!" Wonyoung startles you greatly with how she sounds genuinely irate, but when you take a glance at your gorgeous mermaid goddess, your stomach sinks even deeper at the apparent distress written across her delicate features. "We need to get her out of here before any of the knight members get to her, or any of us, for that matter! We survived Devil’s Night last year and the year before that, so there is no way we’re not surviving this year either!"

Yunjin clenches her jaw, her hazel eyes flashing brief annoyance. “Not now, Vick! You can be mad at me once we find someplace safe.”

“What we actually need is to get out of here!” Wonyoung retorts with vehemence before grabbing your wrist in a tight grip, causing you to wince. “Oh, and Jen? You’re to be blamed if anything happens to Y/N.” The irate mermaid reminds the disbelieving cowboy.

"Let’s argue a little less and find our way out of here?!” Karina raises her voice over the cacophony of chaos, her face displaying sheer annoyance for the two glaring women. “We have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of here!"

"It's no use even if we try to escape. By now, the whole town is scattered with their devil’s lackeys." Yunjin sighs in frustration, running her fingers through her red-dyed hair. "They're not letting us out until it's over. You know that."

"I don't care." Wonyoung snaps at Yunjin, making you grumble moodily as she begins to pull you with her with force. "We will find a way to get out of here, even if it means that I have to use violence to fight off the knight members myself."

"I don't freaking get it!" You exclaim, finally voicing out the tumult of chaos in your head, your eyes darting between your best friends in a frantic motion. “I just don’t get why we’re supposed to be running for our lives as if danger really is heading towards us like you can’t possibly be serious.” Denial shines through in the sarcasm of your chuckles.

“What part of it don’t you understand? The announcer just stated that any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours! And it’s not just anyone committing those crimes, but it’s the whole of Devil’s Knights!” Karina exclaims, displaying her exasperation. “So unless you want to get attacked by them, you better get your ass moving—”

The blasting sound of a shotgun pierces through the air, shocking you to a higher degree that has your entire body paralysed, but with a forceful tug on your arm, you find yourself being dragged by Wonyoung, with Yunjin and Karina following closely in haste. Your eyes widen at the sight of raw brutality that you manage to witness, weapons being utilised and blood spilling as a result, uncertain whether dead or alive but with the screams of terror and agony, you fear the worst.

In the pursuit of your only possible ride of escape, Karina’s car, some of the notorious knights reign terror on your best friends, even attempting to attack them with the weapons they wield, and thankfully, the girls manage to evade them. But you notice how those same knights seem to be avoiding you, as though you are invisible in their eyes. Still, they bring out the screams of fright from you with tears prickling in your eyes.

By the time you have arrived at the parking lot, your eyes widen in horror at the gruesome sight of two knights displaying violence upon a student who, you presume, attends the same university as you, soaked in his own blood as he makes a pitying effort to crawl away from them, his face looking slightly distorted. In the way they are jeering and taking cruel delight in diminishing his life, you wonder if the devil’s knights kill for fun or do they have personal vendettas against the ones that they’re after. 

"Come on!" Karina shouts, making you snap out of it. You head straight for the passenger door and throw yourself onto the seat before closing the door and locking it. You try to focus on what matters first now, but when you do, you struggle to buckle up safely with your trembling hands.

“Seatbelts.” Wonyoung reminds sternly from the backseat with Yunjin, totally not helping you as you feel the weight of pressure from everything pressing you down, causing you to panic while your chest feels painfully tight. “Y/N! Seatbelt, now!”

“I’m trying, damn it! Stop being such a mom!" You cry out angrily, gritting your teeth in frustration at your uncooperative limbs. From the corner of your eye, an imminent danger heads for the car, eliciting a shriek from you before you look at Karina frantically, who has just started the ignition of the vehicle. “Drive!”

As soon as you yell, there is a loud knock on the window next to you, prompting you and the girls to see a Devil’s Knight holding a golf stick. You automatically duck as you protect your head with your hands just when he raises his golf stick and swings to the same window, causing it to finally shatter. The girls and you scream as he intends to repeat his action to completely shatter the entire window, but Karina immediately slams her foot on the pedal gas, prompting the vehicle to accelerate forward. No doubt if Karina hadn’t done that sooner, that knight could’ve easily reached out for you.

You never once doubt Karina’s driving, but as she is driving at an alarming speed while expertly avoiding other vehicles and people on the road ahead, you fear that you might get into a car accident instead of being a victim to any Devil’s Knight.

Your heart remains pounding hard in your chest that feels tight from the prior hysteria. You don’t bother to buckle up safely, only depending on your fingers to hold on tight to the handle above the glassless window. When you scan the road ahead, you squint your eyes to get a better look before noticing stouts of red barriers arrayed by the exit of the road alongside three policemen leisuring on the other side of it. 

“Shit! Not the fucking roadblock!” Karina exclaims annoyedly as she steps on the pedal brake hard, putting the vehicle into an abrupt stop that has all of you nearly lurching forward. Their heads snap to you as you open the door. “Y/N! What are you—"

But you are too focused on the new hope that ignites in your chest as you rush towards the policemen. “Excuse me, Sirs?!” They stop whatever they’re doing, turning to you with an unsettling calmness at your frantic display. “We really need to get out of here. They’re committing atrocious crimes and—” You cease your pleading as soon as a smirk forms on one of their faces.

“Sorry, honey. We can’t let you go out until Devil’s Night is over.” The policeman says, his nonchalance and words diminishing all hope in you.

“Please! You can’t do this!” You plead again, ignoring your friends’ calling to you. “You’re supposed to be protecting us! You people pledged to protect us from harm!” But your plea falls deaf to their ear as they exchange words with chuckles that sound mocking to you.

Your once pleading countenance now displays a glaring resentment at the corruption that influences even the law enforcement. You turn on your heels, prepared to head back into the car, but you falter just slightly when four bikers emerge from around the corner, speeding towards where you are with their exhausts blaring loudly as they reverberate throughout the desolate street. 

For a moment, you think that they are the guests just like you and your friends, but your primal instinct is on high alert, prompting you to rush back into the car while your friends stare at you with confusion. “Go!” You scream at Karina as soon as you slam the door shut, and the latter complies with your hysterical command.

Karina drives around the other way, steering the wheel expertly before she increases the acceleration upon noticing four mysterious bikers tailing them not far behind. “Who the hell are they?!” She exclaims, but her focus on the road as well as multitasking in operating the vehicle is immaculate, nearly convincing you that she might be an undercover street racer.

“They’re the leaders!” Yunjin answers as she still looks over her shoulder. “No idea why they’re after us— did any of you girls piss them off?!”

“How were you able to recognise them while we don’t?” Wonyoung shoots her a bizarre stare, but the latter doesn’t meet her eyes.

“My cousin’s motorbike.” Yunjin simply says, eliciting gasps from Karina and Wonyoung. “He likes to announce his dramatic arrival right outside of the main family’s villa whenever our families decide to host a get-together barbecue party.” She adds, rolling her eyes at the recollection.

“This whole time, you had a cousin?! And he’s one of the leaders?!” Karina blanches, getting distracted from the road that she nearly drives onto the pavement instead before regaining firm control of the steering wheel. “And you didn’t even think to let us know?!”

“We don’t like people to know that we’re related.” You hear Yunjin say unapologetically while you are occupied by other things, your eyes staring in the side-view mirror, watching two bikers getting alarmingly closer to the car, and yet you feel inclined to admire how criminally hot the bikers actually are in spite of their obscure identity. 

“Can you, I don’t know, maybe tell your cousin to stop chasing us?!” Wonyoung’s sarcasm goes unappreciated as it earns her a glare from Yunjin.

“What makes you think that he’d listen to me?! The asshole hates my guts!” 

Your head begins to throb at their incessant screaming and petty disagreements, and you divert your glare to them. “None of this is helping us to outrun them!”

“Buckle up, then, ladies.” Karina instantly proves you wrong as she picks up velocity, and before you know it, your body nearly lurches forward at the precipitated speed while adrenaline rushes in your veins. “Ha! So long, devil suckers!” She lets out a chortle after having successfully put a significant distance away from them before eventually leaving them in the dust.

But the victory is short-lived when the vehicle loses its velocity, slowing down unsteadily before Karina decides to step on the pedal brake, putting her unstable car to a final stop. At once, a series of profanities emit from your best friends. With the ignition still active, Karina presses her foot on the gas pedal, making an attempt, but her car remains stagnant.

“Something’s wrong with the tyres.” Karina comments as she unbuckles her seatbelt before exiting the vehicle, with the rest of you following suit wordlessly. “What the hell? The tyres got punctured!” The apparent anger in her voice prompts you to move over to the other side of the car before catching sight of Karina crouching down as she examines the punctured tyre with the flashlight on the back of her phone. “How the fuck did this happen?!”

“I think we have our answer to that, girls. Look.” Wonyoung’s remark draws all of your attention, her finger pointing out the road behind before you look over to see galvanised nails being scattered all over the road. “This is obviously part of their sick plan.”

“So what’s our plan, then?” Karina asks with unconcealing annoyance, exasperated by the current situation. “Either way, we’re probably gonna get fucked over if we don’t at least get out of this part of town.” As soon as she says that, the familiar exhausts blaring faintly alarms you.

“We find a place to hide until we’re sure enough that they’re completely gone. If they manage to find us, we separate and run like hell.” Yunjin suggests, her tone indicating finality that nudges you and the others to advance, silence settling over your group as you walk side by side.

The view in front of you is an eerie tableau of a desolate district with only the source of light deriving from the moon above, barren of any life form despite the array of building structures on each side, not even a single vehicle in sight. Your eyes glance over at an apartment-like building, observing how all the curtains in every unit have been drawn close. It is almost as if every resident in the building is laying low, choosing not to be seen on this wicked night and hiding in the safe confines of their home. You’re almost jealous of them.

“Hey, I think we should—” Wonyoung is cut off by the distinct blaring exhausts that sound as if they are near the district where you are at while you look around you to spot any of the four bikers. “We need to find a place to hide, now!”

“Over there!” Yunjin points her acrylic finger to the three-story villa that looks evidently abandoned with its skeletal structure. Without waiting for your responses, she makes a run for it first, and the three of you follow suit with your heels producing different clacking noises on the pavement.

Your heart pumps harder as the sound of their exhausts sounds as if they are near, propelling you to put more energy into your speed before you finally make it past the gate, but you don’t falter as you head towards the opened door where Wonyoung is waiting and beckoning you to hurry. Once you enter, Wonyoung pushes the door firmly closed.

“Seriously, Jen? You thought that hiding in a creepy abandoned villa with no lights was the better option?” Karina whines to the cowgirl while you slowly make your way over to them, your calves muscles burning from the running.

Yunjin brings out her phone to use it as a flashlight. “It’s either a creepy abandoned villa or surrendering yourself to them. Besides, they sounded close. Now stop your whining, or they’ll hear us.” She hisses lowly at the pouty Catwoman.

You don’t bother taking out your phone to use it as a flashlight since Wonyoung has already done the same as Yunjin, finding yourself gravitating closer to her. Soon, your eyes manage to adapt to the darkness, with the moon hanging outside aiding in its light to stream into the stained, broken windows. As your group slowly advances, you take your time to observe every inch, and the condition of this villa looks beyond saving, which is a pity to you because you are certain that this villa was once beautiful.

“Did you girls hear that?” Wonyoung asks in a hushed tone, stopping dead in her tracks, her face showing no traces of frivolity, but the concern in her eye is perceptible.

“Stop trying to scare us, Vicky Jang!” Karina nearly snaps, but the fear is palpable in the tremor of her voice.

“No, seriously. Listen.” Wonyoung instructs with a strong emphasis, leaving you and the other two no choice but to listen, and you listen carefully until you finally hear voices sounding frantic in pleas. “It’s coming from upstairs!”

Wonyoung bolts for the massive flight of stairs before the three of you follow after her, expressing none of the complaints and protests; even Karina remains lip-tight because those voices sounded like they were calling for help.

You ignore the burning sensation returning to your calves as you push yourself to make it to the final flight of stairs before finally reaching the second floor, and this time, your group is able to hear the screams of help clearer. You jog after Wonyoung and Yunjin as they guide you and Karina towards the source.

“Oh my God! Liz?! Rei?!” Wonyoung exclaims in horror, causing your eyes to widen at the mention of your friends before you finally enter what looks like a desolate library. Your eyes immediately land on ten girls, two of whom are part of your circle of friends, seated in a circle with their backs facing each other, but what shocks you is the tear-stricken look on their countenances with some bruises that look fresh.

Sobs and hiccups can be heard from the ten ladies. Some are stuffed with cloth in their mouths, but all of them have their hands and feet tied by cable ties that seem to mar their skin. Clearly, they have been held hostage, but why? And who?

“It’s a good thing that I brought pocket knives.” Karina takes out three pocket knives from her mini leg bag before passing two each to Wonyoung and Yunjin while you offer your assistance to those with cloth stuffed in their mouths.

“We didn’t do anything at all.” Liz sobs out to Wonyoung while the latter steadily yet quickly cuts the cable ties that bound the blonde’s limbs. “We were trying to escape and find someplace to hide, but we encountered these guys, and the masks they wore were different from devil’s knights.”

“They attacked us and brought us here, told us that we were hostages until their target got alerted, which made no sense!” Rei continues to rant in a rage despite the tears staining her cheeks.

“We should hurry to leave! They left not too long ago, but they’re coming back!” One of the girls, who has a nasty gash on her arm, urges, her voice carrying a sense of urgency and fear. “They said they’re going to kill us if the leaders didn’t rescue us by the time they came back!”

“What makes you think that the leaders would rescue you? The same heartless leaders who destroy everything in their path, especially on Devil’s Night?” Karina asks as she raises her eyebrow at the fearful girl, her tone holding a bit of humour. “And who is this ‘they’?”

“He said his name was Namgil.” Another girl answers, her voice timid. “And there were more of them compared to us combined.”

“Let’s get going, then.” Yunjin announces firmly; her confidence seems to allay the girls. “Grab any item that you can use as a weapon to protect yourself before we head out of here.” The girls waste no time in scurrying as they search for potential weapons around them, including you.

“Y/N!” A girl, who you recognise is in the same major as you, calls out for you just aisles away from where you are, her back facing the ominous shadow of shelves. She holds up a sharp wood while the other is occupied with the same type of wood. “Do you need—”

Before she can finish her sentence, a sickening sound of flesh being stabbed can be heard while a scream instantly tears from your throat, watching as she splutters crimson, having been stabbed with the pointed blade protruding from her stomach. She looks at you with glassy eyes while you watch tearfully in horror as the life in those eyes slowly diminishes before her body is being thrust forward, as though she is being pushed by someone, falling to the ground with a loud thud, completely lifeless.

At once, screams and cries emit from the rest of the girls upon having to watch the murder happen in real time, but they are easily overpowered by an unrecognisable voice that belongs to a man, deep and mocking. “And here I thought the infamous bastards had been the ones to rescue the girls.”

The girls collectively make an attempt to run, but masked men mysteriously emerge from the shadows around you, wielding different kinds of weapons. You shriek and duck your head as soon as one of them swings a metal bat at you. Your worry grows as you hear your best friends fighting off and throwing curses at their aggressors, but you are too busy saving yourself to even help them. But your lacking skills in combat lead you to be captured by one, your arms being twisted behind you as he holds you deadly tight against him while his blade comes in contact with your neck.

“Kim Namgil? What the fuck? I thought you were gone for good!” Yunjin snarls coldly as soon as the previous man who spoke removes his mask. She has had enough of her aggressor before doing an effective roundhouse kick to him in the head, successfully knocking him out cold. 

“To simply put, I’m here for revenge, aside from honouring someone else’s revenge, but you don’t need to know.” You watch as Namgil toys with his butcher knife, a smirk forming on his lips while his eyes remain fixated on Yunjin. “Tell me, is your dear cousin doing well?”

Yunjin looks more furious than she was previously. “How the fuck did you know he’s my cousin?!”

“Heard from a pretty little birdie, but she’s dead now, thanks to your cousin and his bastard line of friends.” Namgil’s smirk drops and is replaced by a nasty snarl. “I’ll kill him; I’ll kill them all, and you won’t even be there to deliver your goodbyes to him because you won’t be alive by then.”

You become both intrigued and shocked at the sheer protectiveness in your best friend’s countenance while you momentarily forget about being held at a knifepoint. “I’ll kill you before you even get the chance to lay a finger on him!” She yells at him, but she instantly gets knocked down by another attacker while you scream her name worriedly.

“Boss.” Your attacker calls out, drawing Namgil’s attention, who instantly has his eyes fixated on your figure. “Those bastards won’t be coming. We should still take one of these girls as a hostage.”

“You’re right. We do only need one.” Namgil says with a sickening delight in his tone while he roams his eyes all over you, recognition glinting in his dark eyes. You struggle in your attacker’s arm, wanting to get away as Namgil gets closer, but you can only feel the prickling pain of the blade in your skin. “We haven’t met, but I know you. The renowned church girl, Y/N. You’re close with Jake, right?”

“What?” Confusion written across your features despite the fear that is pressing you down when he uses the tip of his butcher knife to trace down your sternum tantalisingly. “I don’t know what you’re on about, but I’m not, and I was never close with Jake.”

The smile on his lips disappears just the way his personality takes a turn, and in a blink of an eye, he has you in his bruising grip, glaring into your eyes as he holds you close. “Don’t fucking lie to me! I remember that I saw you and him before!”

You don’t bother to hide your disgust as his breath hits you in the face. “That was probably back in freshman year, which was years ago. Are you sure you’re living in the correct timeline now?” You accidentally blurt out a sarcastic remark, being driven by the simmering adrenaline in evading your new aggressor. 

Namgil smacks you in the face, sending your head flying sideways from the impact. You barely make a run past him when he grabs you by the arm again, which you are sure is bruised, before dragging you with him. “Kill and dispose of the rest. We’re taking this one as our hostage instead.” He announces loudly to his men, some of whom are still attacking the girls.

Namgil rids you of the opportunity to call and look over to check on your girls when he hastily drags you out of the library, rendering you worried and helpless before you decide to pray silently for your girls to be safe and win against their oppressors. “This is great! Now that I have you instead, they’re going to come and rescue you.”

“You’re wrong.” You manage to utter in between light pants, having to keep up with his pace as you have finally reached the first floor. You spot two of his men waiting for him. “They’re not going to save me. You’re making a big mistake.”

“Then I’ll just have to kill you, right after I use your body for my pleasure.” Namgil whispers in your ear, rendering you completely revolted at the idea of him doing a despicable act to you. “Or better yet, I fuck you now and let my boys have their turn before we kill you slowly and painfully in front of those bastards.”

Without thinking twice, you step on his foot hard with the heel of your boot, hearing a crack before you find yourself getting pushed by him, resulting in you falling to the ground while his screams of agony sound like a delight to you. You attempt to get up, but Namgil is quick to get you on your back with his fingers curled around your neck in a deadly manner, depriving you of oxygen. “You fucking bitch! I’m going to kill—"

“I thought you knew better than to mess with someone else’s prey, let alone our prey.” A very familiar voice speaks up, but his voice sounds deeper than you had heard him. “But your mistake is the moment you entered our zone where you were not welcomed anymore.”

You expect more talking, but instead, you hear a commotion involving a series of screams of agony and cusses. You inhale loudly as soon as someone has pulled him off you, coughing out from getting your windpipe nearly crushed before you attempt to raise your body vertically, but you falter when a tall figure looms over you, prompting you to look up for your eyes to meet a pair of black sockets as his identity is obscured by a white mask with a horizontal red stripe. He is adorned in all black with a vest and a hoodie covering his head.

Without a word, the mysterious man, who you call 'White’ in your head, helps you to get back on your feet, feeling how gentle he is with you despite the firm grip to steady you. Your eyes never stray from him as he caresses your neck gently with his gloved fingers. “You’re hurt.” His voice, his very familiar voice, causes your eyes to widen. “Are you feeling fine, my beloved?”

“I-I’m okay.” You stammer, flustered by the endearment when you should be fearful of him as he wields a knife in his other hand. Though his demeanour is gentle and his voice holds a familiar mellow that allays your nerves, you heed your primal instinct to evade him. “I need to go—”

His arm wraps around your waist faster than you can comprehend, locking you in his possession while you can feel his body heat. “There’s no rush in going anywhere, love. Besides, wouldn’t you like to watch the bastard be beaten to death?” You can imagine him smirking while there is a sickening glee in his tone.

You find yourself going speechless when his fingers grip your chin firmly and tilt your head up, the gesture sending flutters to your heart, before he turns your head to the side, only for you to be stricken by horror at the spectacle of savagery. “I don’t like this.” You tell him shakily, feeling sick in the stomach upon seeing one of Namgil’s men, whose head is nearly mangled from his lifeless body with blood pooling around him.

But White remains undeterred by your protest as he continues to force you to watch as the other three leaders are now circling an injured Namgil, like predators toying with their prey before devouring it. “Shhh, it’s alright, love.” He whispers in your ear rather affectionately. “Don’t feel bad for him. He deserves it.”

It isn’t that you feel bad for the death that undoubtedly awaits Namgil, but you just simply lack the tolerance to watch such gruesome gore that is happening in real life. Your whole body trembles while tears fill your waterline as one of the leaders in a red mask swings the metal baseball bat to Namgil’s head, eliciting a loud, sickening crack.

“You fucking dared to touch her?!” Red growls out as he grasps the metal baseball bat that is tainted with Namgil’s blood, allowing the one in a grey mask, who is holding Namgil’s butcher knife, his turn to wreak violence on him. “You deserve to die a slow, painful death, Namgil, not just for touching what’s ours, but for what happened three years ago.”

You hear Namgil attempting to speak, but he can only produce gurgling sounds. A horrifying gasp leaves your lips when Grey brings down the butcher knife to slice Namgil’s arm clean, tearing screams of agony from him while blood spluttered everywhere. You are finally able to look away, closing your eyes shut, but it feels useless when you can still hear his screams when Grey does the same action to his other arm, severing it.

“Alright, love, you’re trembling so much.” White heaves a sigh before looking down at you, his hand goes cupping your cheek while you flutter your glossy eyes open. “I can’t go anywhere until I’m done with him, so I need you to wait for us by the stairs, alright? I’m trusting you not to run away, beloved.” He says sternly that has you nodding your head quickly before he slowly releases you.

Your legs tremble beneath you as you walk towards the familiar massive flight of stairs, still feeling his eyes on you, but you are no fool to obey a killer’s order, and so you gather any remaining strength within you, including the willpower, before bolting off in another direction, your legs carrying you as fast as they can. You know that you’re in big trouble, but you’d rather risk your life running than surrender to any of them.

“Leave her be. We still haven’t finished our business here yet.” Black says to White upon hearing the latter sighing as he watches your figure getting smaller, but to be fair, he already expected you to grasp the opportunity to run.

You manage to climb over a window before resuming your pursuit of escaping your not-so-new predators, now running on the desolate road, hoping to at least find another place to hide. After what feels like forever, you cave into exhaustion as your lungs burn while your legs ache, and you swear you can feel blisters forming in your feet. You look over your shoulder, only to feel disheartened to see the distance between the villa and where you are at.

You refocus ahead, mentally prepared to run again, but your eyes immediately land on a car parked by the pavement curb. You briskly move forward, ignoring the pain your body is sending signals to your brain. You notice a figure seated in the driver’s seat, igniting hope in your chest.

“Excuse me, but could you—” You don’t get to finish your words when a scream escapes you, your eyes widening in horror at the sight of the now-dead girl with blood oozing from the nasty slit on her throat before you notice another dead body outside of the car on the other side, most likely her friend.

You force yourself to recover before using your might to get the dead body out of the car while goosebumps remain constant on your skin as you drag her over to the pavement where her dead friend is sprawled. You mutter a quick apology when you let her arm fall with a thud before you head over to the driver’s seat, only to get startled when an explosion erupts from afar, eliciting a gasp from you as the villa is being engulfed by ferocious, massive flames. 

Your ears pick up on the faint blaring exhausts, and your eyes are drawn to the four bikers emerging out of nowhere from afar, prompting you to get into the driver’s seat. You ignore the knife that is stained with blood resting on the passenger seat. Your hand instinctively switches on the ignition, heeding your muscle memory, but your brain goes short-circuited as the blaring exhausts get louder from behind.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Remember what Dad taught you.” You tell yourself in an attempt to calm your nerves and focus deeply, your hands gripping the steering wheel firmly. Though your father taught you how to drive many years ago, the memory remains fresh in your mind.

With a newfound confidence, you step on the correct pedal gas, propelling the vehicle to finally move off the curb before you increase your speed in the nick of time when the four bikers are nearing you. You continue to drive at an alarming speed, trying to outrun them, but you remain tailgated by them relentlessly. You nearly go unfocused, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions within you, but you are quick to gain the momentum.

You change the direction of the steering wheel, now entering a new territory where there is what looks like a massive park ahead of you, and you pick up the velocity. Just as you nearly reach the park, you fail to realise an incoming vehicle heading towards you from the right. Your reaction delays when you are being pushed by another car that’s been wrecked before realising that it is being pushed by a black van, completely unrelenting.

But the macabre soon comes to a stop, giving you time to recover from the impact that thankfully did not give you any major injury. You unbuckle your seatbelt with trembling hands and grab the knife on instinct before kicking the door open and exiting the vehicle. Your legs nearly give out, your body aching all over, and you hold onto the car to steady yourself when your head throbs.

Despite knowing that you still need to escape, anger boils in your veins, wanting to give whoever drove that black van a piece of your mind, but the thought is immediately replaced by apprehension when footsteps approach you. You lift your head, only to be intimidated by the one adorning a black mask as he trudges towards you while his comrades are behind him, busily dismounting from their bikes.

You back away from him as he gets unrelenting, prepared to use the knife to protect yourself from him, only for him to expertly snatch the knife from you in a blink of an eye before he throws it away. You let out a yelp when he turns you around and pins you against the car, holding your hands in one strong grip before he bounds your hands together with a handcuff.

“Naughty, baby.” Black whispers huskily in your ear as he presses his body into yours, eliciting a gasp from you at his body warmth and familiar voice. “You made us chase you down twice. Do you like playing a chasing game with us?” He groans deeply, igniting a familiar desire in you before you feel his prominent bulge against your bum. “Because it’s turning me on more than anything, babydoll.”

“We’re sorry! We didn’t know it was her in the car!” You hear another familiar voice that compels you to look over to Jungwon, speaking to the other three leaders.

“In a way, at least we helped you in finally capturing her.” Sunoo adds, and that is when you also notice another brooding presence next to him, Riki. The three sophomores you know are a part of the fraternity.

“We got her. So let’s go, and stop rubbing your dick on her.” Grey snaps at Black, causing the latter to growl under his breath that has your womanhood responding instinctively to the attractive sound before he pulls you with him to head towards the park.

Your face flushes warmly when you are needed to walk past the other three leaders, because instead of feeling fearful, you feel a sense of diffidence as you can feel their eyes on your figure, making you self-conscious of how you look now, probably a mess. 

Black guides you deeper and deeper into the park while the others follow from behind. A confused frown touches your lips upon seeing an entrance gate before noticing a large number of people gathered inside for some reason, including the knight members. You shudder as you see different types of weapons in their grasp.

All the while, you have been trying your utmost to ignore the exertion in your legs and how your body still aches from the previous impact, springing tears in your eyes, but you suck it up, knowing that crying changes nothing. 

The sound of gates rattling open welcomes you before Black gently pushes you forward for you to start walking. Your eyes scan for familiar faces in the crowd, and miraculously, Wonyoung spots you instantly. “Y/N!”

“Wonyoung!” You reciprocate, feeling relief to see your best friend in one piece in spite of a few minor wounds on her skin. Just as you attempt to make a run towards her, Black tightens his grip on you. “Let go of me!”

The once-relieved expression is replaced by sheer anger on Wonyoung’s countenance before she marches forward. “You let her go this instant! Bastards!” But two knights immediately prevent her from going to you, eliciting curses from the enraged mermaid.

“You’re with us till the end, babydoll.” Black tells you with a lull as you remain looking at Wonyoung tearfully and helplessly before he guides you to where the other leaders are, facing the anxious crowd.

You manage to scan your surroundings briefly, noticing that they have brought you to a massive labyrinth garden, which appears to have a multitude of mazes that also seem endless. You also spot the divine palace in the background, but it looks further away from you than it looks. As soon as you arrive by the leaders’ side, you lower your gaze, hearing whispers among the crowd that pertains to you.

“Just so everyone is clear, you see this beautiful angel here?” White speaks up loudly as he grabs your arm and pulls you closer to his side while your cheeks continue to burn. “She’s our prey and ours alone to deal with. This is a warning to you if you dare to mess with what belongs to us.”

You so badly want to scream at him that you belong to no one, let alone to a man, but you remain silent with your head hanging low.

“Congratulations for making it to this stage.” Black speaks into the microphone this time, garnering everyone’s attention while you muster the courage to look up and stare at him. “However, Devil’s Night is far from over, and unfortunately, whether you’ll survive this stage or not depends on you.”

Black passes the microphone to Grey. “Yes, we’re aware that this segment is new for those of you who have been to the previous annual Devil’s Nights.” Grey explains. “For this stage, all of you will be given seven minutes to run and find the exit of the labyrinth garden.”

“Seven minutes?!” A guy from your cohort barks out his discontent. “Seven minutes is impossible for us to make our escape! Look at this maze! It’s fucking massive!”

“Too fucking bad.” You hear a smirk in Grey's tone. “So you better be running for your life once we hit the countdown.”

“And what happens if we don’t make it to the exit in time?” A girl asks loudly, and when you look at her, you frown at the discernible excitement in her eyes. Why is she excited when she should be apprehensive just as you are now?

It’s not just her, but the palpable tension of excitement emanating from some of the victims is hard for you to not notice. It is as if they have been expecting this adventurous thrill that may or may not cost their lives. Your face twists into a slight grimace, finding them odd and mental.

Red snatches the microphone from Grey. “For those of you who successfully manage to find the exit on time, congratulations in advance. You are free to leave and enjoy the rest of Devil’s Night with what we have to offer.” Red pauses before he lets out chuckles, a hint of darkness in his tone. “But for those who fail, you’re ours to kill, ours to toy with, ours to torture, and ours to fuck once we find you. We’ll do whatever we want to you. So when we tell you to run, you run and don’t ever fucking stop.”

You see White beckoning for the microphone, which Red passes to him. “As for our fellow knights, don’t forget to stake your claims if you haven’t. Remember to hunt down only what is yours.” As he says this, you can feel his gaze behind his mask fixed intently on your face. “The last part of the hunt starts now.”

On his command, everyone, with the exception of the knight members, erupts into squeals and tumultuous commotion as they make their way to the multitude of mazes haphazardly. You manage to catch Wonyoung looking at you ruefully before she heads in the same direction as some. You hold back your tears, watching as your best friends leave you behind with those in power.

“What are you going to do to me?” You manage to find your voice, albeit there is a palpable tremor of fear in your voice as you look at the four leaders with glossy eyes, and fuck, you look so pretty in tears as they marvel at your beauty. “Don’t kill me, please.” You beg softly, slowly backing away from White as he approaches you.

In one long stride, White grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him. You look up at him pleadingly, shivers running down your spine as he caresses your cheek lovingly. “We have no intention of killing you, my beloved.” He utters softly, a deception you become familiar with. “What’s the fun in killing you when we have better plans for you?”

You remain seated on the ground with the cloth beneath you, a barrier preventing your bums from being poked uncomfortably by the turf’s texture, courtesy of Grey, who wordlessly gave you the cloth after seeing the look on your face as you stood on aching legs, responding with a grunt after you had given him a timid utterance of your gratitude.

You wait, and you have no idea what you are waiting for, waiting anxiously as you observe the four leaders ambulating every so often, but not once did one of them ever reveal even a glimpse of their faces, though you already have the idea of who is who since you recognise their voices.

You feel the perpetual cold settling in your bones, and you instinctively attempt to hug your slightly shivering figure, but your handcuffed hands are a hindrance that you have forgotten. You flinch when you hear the shrill screams that pierce into the cold, foreboding atmosphere once more, leaving you to wonder what sort of brutality those Devil’s Knights choose to strike them with. But you worry most about your friends, hoping that they’ll make it out alive.

You try your best to avoid squirming when a pair of eyes burn straight into you, and from your peripheral vision, White is leaning against the concrete wall with his arms crossed, watching you with disconcerting ease. You don’t want to admit it, but since your encounter with White, you feel this magnetic attraction towards him that feels inevitable, and it’s ridiculous, but there is an enigmatic connection between you and him that is simply indescribable. You know that he is a far more dangerous individual, and yet a part of you feels an instinctual need to seek comfort in him.

“What—” You begin to speak, faltering when the four of them react instantaneously to your voice. You put on a mask of bravado, but the tremor in your voice is palpable. “What do you want from me?” Your firm demeanour lies in exasperation because it is killing you how they obviously have ulterior motives.

You watch them with scrutiny as they seem to communicate telepathically, looking at each other in total silence before White gives a head nod. You tense up as Black approaches you, stopping in front of you before he pulls you up from the ground and holds your wrist. You eye him with visible confusion when he uncuffs you, but nonetheless you feel relieved because the metal handcuffs were making your wrist sore.

“We’re giving you two options, sweet thing.” Red says, his voice carrying a familiar allure. “You can either leave this place and go back home safely or stay and experience the thrill we have to offer.” You can imagine his charming grin on his plump lips. “It’s up to you, sweetheart. No judgement if you choose either.”

This is insanity; it is pure madness because this prolonged, twisted dance of devilry should have pushed you to choose the first option, but you feel entirely compelled as the second option resonates with you. Deep down, you know that you are every bit as twisted as them, desiring to uncover what sorts of diabolical schemes they might execute while a part of you keens in being the vulnerable prey in their predatory eyes. 

You glance over at the gates where you first entered to get here, having no desire to leave even when they are being lenient in offering the easy road to freedom, and so you remain rooted to the ground, your decision being as clear as the starless sky above you.

“Last chance to change your mind, princess.” Grey tuts, his demeanour seems to be taunting you. “Because if this is really your answer, it also means that you are giving consent to us.”

You have no idea if your trembling hands denote apprehension or twisted excitement. You bite your bottom lip, attempting to wet it with your tongue, but your mere action seems to elicit a not-so-inaudible growl from White. “I’m not that much of a coward as you think I am.”

“I didn’t say anything, princess.” Grey chuckles coldly, and yet those sounds from him bring an unexpected flutter to your heart. “Although, I can’t help but think that either you’re putting on a brave act or just being a dumb princess.” You hold back your tongue from retaliating.

“You better start running, love,” White says softly, his words rousing the excitement to send you into an adrenaline rush. “Because once we catch you, we’ll do whatever we want to you, and we’re not going to stop until we say so.”

You don’t spare any seconds as you take off in the direction of the maze where most of the guests were previously running into. The prior exertion begins to burn in your legs; your calf muscles are imploring for respite, but you push on, determined to get further away from your predators, albeit you have no intention to find the exit anytime soon.

Once you are certain that you have managed to drift far from them, you succumb to the exhaustion that you have been repressing, slowing down before you come to a momentary stop to take a breath. Subsequently, your perception of your surroundings heightens as you come down from the high, allowing you to pick on different ranges of sounds that send the same chills to your spine — shrilling screams that are either agony or thrill, roarings from the Devil’s Knights, and et cetera.

You force yourself to master equanimity before moving forward. You distract yourself by scanning your surroundings, surprised to see how tall the hedge walls are that it is impossible for anyone to look over to the other side of the wall. You feel the dread creeping up on you as you look ahead at how narrow yet hollow the route is. 

Eventually, you reach the end of the route, only to be daunted by the sight of a labyrinth containing infinite pathways to the unknown. You stagger a step back upon witnessing a guy limping with his injured leg to one pathway from the other, obviously running away from a Devil’s Knight as the masked man follows him with a long dagger that is dripping with blood.

You enter the pathway that resonates best with you, walking as stealthily as you can to avoid drawing anyone’s attention. Just then, you are suddenly reminded of your phone, prompting you to whip it out from your mini leg bag and go through your contacts, but confusion hits you when you see the ‘no signal’ on the top left of your phone, which is weird because just way earlier before the whole thing went down, your internet connection was working perfectly fine.

You grumble under your breath as you shove your phone back in your bag. You have no doubt that it is part of their doing, considering they wield the power of unpredictability. After what feels like an hour, you turn into a left corner, only to feel a huge relief upon seeing Wonyoung ahead of you.

“Wonyoung!” You call for her as you rush forward, forgetting the fact that you are supposed to go about discreetly. 

“Y/N!” Just as Wonyoung turns around, a figure decked out in black attire and a grey mask that obscures his identity emerges from the shadows of the entrance next to Wonyoung, swiftly grabbing her with his arm around her waist while the other covering her screaming mouth as she thrashes against his hold.

“Wonyoung!” You cry out for your soul sister as you step forward with the intention of getting her back despite lacking the right skills to protect her, afraid of what might happen to her. But the moment you attempt to reach out for her, the masked man turns to look at you and shakes his head.

“Don’t, Y/N. Unless you want to end up on the wrong side of my knife.” The wicked intent in his voice is resounding, rendering you frozen in your spot as you recognise his voice. Jungwon. “Luckily for you, you’re not mine to kill.” He says before dragging your helpless friend until they disappear from your sight, leaving you alone and hopeless.

Tears are welling in the rims of your eyes, while the trepidation that courses through your veins is starting to feel overwhelming. You sniffle as you quickly wipe away the fallen teardrop on your cheek before you force yourself to advance forward, mustering whatever courage and determination are left within you. The regret over your decision is there for you to grasp it, but you refuse to admit it.

You continue to venture into the unknown until you hear a familiar voice that kindles hope in your chest. “Yunjin?” You call for her, moving forward while your eyes dart everywhere as you walk past different entrances. You become startled when you spot one of the knights holding a chainsaw chasing after two girls who are screaming in terror before you quickly mind your own business and resume searching for your childhood best friend.

“Yunjin─” You immediately halt your steps as soon as you hear faint moans emitting from your very own childhood best friend. Your face contorts into a mortified confusion as you listen to how she is moaning pleasurably while there is a faint sound of skins slapping.

A part of you knows better than to indulge your curiosity, but you find yourself advancing forward once more. As soon as you turn your head, the vulgar sight greets you, rendering you completely shocked to the point where your body feels paralysed, unable to move.

There is your childhood best friend on top of a masked man as he is seated on a wooden bench, and their lower regions are completely stripped off of any layer of garments. Her back is facing you as she bounces continuously on him with her hands draped over his shoulders lazily.

As your gaze falls down, that is when you finally notice that Yunjin is indeed fucking down on the masked man, causing your cheeks to flare. You can see how lewd they are, fucking into each other with a series of moans and groans emitting from them. You should feel disgusted, and you should be looking away from this obscene spectacle, but you become enthralled by the sight of his cock disappearing into her pussy each time she bounces.

Oddly, your heart is racing at a pace that feels foreign, and your throat becomes dry the longer you watch them get immersed in the debauchery. You stagger a step back, panting lightly while feeling a familiar sensation pooling in your core. The warmth all over your body feels odd, bothering you greatly.

“Fuck, just like that.” The masked man throws his head to the back, holding Yunjin by her ass cheeks to assist her. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep fucking on me like the desperate whore you are.” He says with a grunt before carrying your best friend over to the hedge wall where he pins her against the bushes behind them, depriving you of the vivid image of their fucking.

You squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sensation that becomes oddly unbearable in your core, getting undoubtedly turned on by the degradation, albeit it is not directed at you. Just as you stagger a step back, your back hits a solid chest, causing your heart to sink in the pits of your stomach.

Before you can run away, an arm slithers around your waist, locking you in place. A disapproving tut leaves his lips. “Was searching for you, baby, and imagine my surprise to see you watching your best friend getting fucked.” He hums, enjoying the way you squirm. “Naughty girl. Do you like watching people fuck? Or do you imagine yourself being in her shoes?”

“N-No.” You protest weakly, tearing your gaze away from the sight, but he uses his gloved hand to grip your jaw and turn your head, forcing you to keep your eyes trained on your best friend with sheer pleasure written on her countenance.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Black speaks next to your ear while your breaths get heavier and your mind is tainted with forbidden thoughts. “I know you love it. You’re probably wishing that was you, but no one gets to fuck you except me.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he gropes the flesh of your breast with earnestness, while his other hand trails downward on your stomach before his fingers go underneath the material of your dress. You gasp inaudibly at the sensation of his fingers teasingly grazing across your clothed pussy, and you swear you can feel some form of essence leaking between your folds.

“N-No.” Your weak protest does nothing to stop Black from his assault on you while you watch with hooded eyelids as your best friend continues to fuck the masked man vigorously while the sounds emanating from them become pornographic.

“Fuck, you’re nearly soaked, angel.” Black nearly growls as his chest vibrates against your back, sending you shivers down your spine.

Light pants leave your lips as your mind is relentlessly infused with impure thoughts, and your hips buck, as though in an attempt to entice Black, but he continues to tease you by stroking the outer part of your womanhood, occasionally bumping your clit.

The sound of a feminine scream pulls you out of the lustrous trance as you blink your eyes. Mortification hits you like whiplash while guilt shrouds you. Gritting your teeth, you muster willpower before slamming your elbow into his stomach hard, resulting in him releasing you while a painful groan emits from him.

“Y/N!” You hear Black roaring from behind; the sheer anger is palpable in his tone while you run as if your life depends on it, despite the blisters in your feet sending you signals that it needs medical attention as soon as possible.

Your hair flail behind you, soaring in the wind as you run while a few strands stick to your face as you perspire. Your heart is pounding harder against your chest, and your chest begins to tighten with anxiety at the worst possible outcome after angering one of the leaders, whose temperament is known to be the worst out of them.

A scream leaves your lips as soon as two lower-ranking knight members emerge from the bushes with different weapons in their grasp, bringing fright upon you. You run to the opposite side, and when you do, other knight members wreak terror upon you with their weapons, but they don’t do anything to you. It is also as though they are forcing you to go in the intended direction by scaring you relentlessly.

You choke back a sob, tears stinging in your eyes. You wish that this was all just a mere nightmare, but the exertion, the aches, and the pain all over your body say otherwise. You find yourself yearning to return to your beloved parents and the cosy ambience of your home, where you feel safe and loved.

A genuine scream of terror rips from your throat when Grey emerges from a shadow, holding an axe that is dripping with blood. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” He asks mockingly, stalking towards you.

You nearly trip over before you pivot on your heels, running in the other direction. You keep going, even when your lungs are burning and tears blurring your vision, resulting in you tripping over a hard log that has you falling to the ground with a thud. You wince painfully as you feel your kneecap burn. You look back at what exactly caused you to trip, only to scream as you see a dead girl staring at you lifelessly.

That is when you finally gain awareness of your new surroundings, tearing out a sob from you as you are greeted by dead bodies scattered around you. You force yourself to get up on shaky legs, your teary eyes taking in the blood and even severed limbs in your line of sight.

You turn around and run again, wanting to erase the gruesome tableau from your tainted mind. You crash into a figure that is strong enough to stabilise himself from the impact while you blindly seek comfort and protection in whoever this is, sobbing out.

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweet thing. You’re safe with me now.” Red speaks above you while he strokes the back of your head tenderly, making you recoil from him instantly and allowing him to have a look at your beautiful face being tainted by tears streaming down your cheeks. “Come here, lovely.”

You shake your head, refusing to go anywhere with him as you grapple with your emotions that are in disarray. You run again, and it seems to be the only thing in the face of peril you are good at. You force the tears to stop, including the sobbing, as you are set to find a good place to hide. Your sharp eyes catch a sight of a relatively smaller pathway, and you head in without hesitation. You ignore the hedges of leaves grazing against your skin as you venture further into the dark.

As soon as you step outside, you are greeted by a whole new scenery that looks akin to an actual park, but the air thickens with a palpable dread, as though it is a telltale sign that an imminent danger will terrorise your temporary sanctuary. You don’t doubt the inevitable that the leaders will find out where you are.

Nevertheless, you explore further before a shadowy yet fairly big structure captures your interest, where it is situated above in the massive tree. You tilt your head up, squinting your eyes to get a better look before finally making out what looks like a whole treehouse, and it feels odd as you can immediately discern the undertone of adolescence emanating from the haunting-looking treehouse.

Your attention drifts to the tree trunk, where there are initials carved directly at your eye level, and you have a strong inkling that the two-letter initials belonged to the first letter of two people’s names. ‘H’ and another letter that matches the first letter in your name. You ignore the familiar throb in that specific part of your head again, grimace slightly before you turn around, only to let out a startled shriek at White’s looming figure over yours.

You immediately back away from him, establishing a safe distance, but your back hits the tree trunk, and yet you can’t seem to move around the tree and make a run again, noticing how White remains rooted to the ground in his spot.

“The boys and I used to build this treehouse on our own.” White speaks up, his mellow tone lacing with nostalgia that captivates your interest. “But it wasn’t for us that we were building it for.” He takes a slow step forward, causing you to tense up. “We built it for her, the girl who managed to capture our hearts without her knowing, but we lost her. I lost her.”

Something burns in your chest, and you have no idea if it’s jealousy or admiration, because in the way he speaks about her with pure reverence, this mysterious girl must’ve been his first love. You gulp nervously, your stance remaining in a fight-or-flight mode. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You say softly, uncertain if what you said would anger him.

You can feel it, the air shifting around you into something melancholic. “That’s okay because I’ve finally found her.” He says rather ruefully as he continues to close the gap between you until he stops in front of you. Your heart thumps loudly when he caresses your cheek tenderly. “But she couldn’t remember me, or any of us. I don’t blame her, though. It isn’t her fault for not being able to remember anything about us anymore.”

You stare into those hollow socket eyes of his mask while your heart remains in a thumping mess, because why does it feel like he is making it seem that his words are directed at you in a personal way? Even the way he is standing close to you with one hand on your waist feels intimate.

You open your mouth to speak, but as soon as Red emerges from the same entry you came from, your fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, prompting you to shove yourself past White, making a run for the other entry that is near the huge gazebo meters away.

You think that White is letting you go freely, but in a blink of an eye, you feel his hand grabbing you by the arm and pulling you roughly to him. Before you know it, he deftly carries you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while you are left kicking your feet in the air and throwing weak punches at his toned back that have no effect on him as he continues to advance towards the gazebo.

“I was going to be nice, but you decided to hurt my feelings.” White snarls, shocking you at how evidently pissed he is after having ever heard him speak with a distinct softness throughout the years you know him. “I’m going to mark my claim on you, and you’re going to take everything I give to you like the good fucking girl you are.”

Your head goes dizzying from the way White manhandles you as he has you settled on what feels like an inflatable mattress before you find yourself lying on your back, your eyes blinking at the dark ceiling of the gazebo in a dazed state. You attempt to get up, only for White to push you back down before he goes straight for under your dress, his fingers moving at your waistband and pulling it down.

“I meant what I said earlier.” White says as he expertly removes your underwear in one go before hovering above you while you are locked by the sensation of being paralysed underneath him, lacking resolve to fight against him because deep down, you know that you have been looking forward to this. You hear him unzipping his pants, which arouses your bundle of nerves. “I’m going to fuck you first, my dearest.”

Something so twisted preens inside of you when White spreads your legs open before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head despite your lack of protest. You barely feel the wave of embarrassment by the fact that the other three leaders are under the same gazebo as you, watching the obscene spectacle with a disconcerting nonchalance.

You gasp at the sensation of something solid and heavy sliding up and down on your cunt before you lift your head just slightly and crane your neck to get a better view of his assault. You nearly foam at the mouth upon seeing his cock with its bulbous head swollen. A whine escapes you as he aims the head and taps it on your clit repeatedly, causing you to arch your back with your hips bucking wildly at the delicious sensation of your aching clit being highly stimulated while this action of yours only turns on the other leaders at how alluring you look.

“I know, love, I know. You need my cock, yeah?” White utters softly, and yet he sounds sinisterly smug as he enjoys how desperate you are. He finally and slowly penetrates his length into your pussy, causing your walls to stretch painfully, but the pain is surprisingly tolerable. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He growls under his breath, unable to fight off the temptation before he begins thrusting his cock into your already sopping cunt, bringing a smirk to his lips at how easily wet you are.

You moan out at the sensation of your walls being relentlessly stretched by his cock with each thrust, your face contorting into ecstasy as the pleasure is building up in your lower abdomen. Your hands are clawing at his vest, desperate to cling onto him before he grabs both hands and pins them above your head with one hand again. He uses the other to reach down your swollen clit that has been aching for attention, his thumb rubbing your sensitive button with maddening precision.

Your head is filled with nothing but him and his cock; the desire to be reduced into nothing by the time he’s done with you has you producing more moans and whines of plea that sound pornographic in the ears of the other leaders as they wait with practiced patience while getting boners.

“No one will ever get to see you like this, all fucked out. You’re fucking mine.” White snarls possessively, delivering thrust after thrust with unbridled yet ruthless passion that has your eyes rolling to the back; the pleasure from getting bullied by his cock and your bundle of nerves being relentlessly rubbed by his thumb is absolutely delirious, and you swear you feel your tummy bulging with each thrust of his cock.

“H-Heeseung-” You finally moan out his name as you force your eyes to gaze deeply into the hollow sockets of his mask, your eyes glistening with such desperation and yearning. He nearly falters, utterly hypnotised by your mesmerising beauty, staring into his soul, and he wants nothing more than to engrave this moment on his mind.

His eyes fall to your luscious lips with the sweet sounds escaping. He takes his fellow leaders by surprise when he removes his mask, finally revealing his handsome face to you while his fallen hoodie reveals his disheveled hair that makes you want to run your fingers through. Your eyes meet his dark, possessive ones, and before you can marvel at his haunting beauty, he slams his lips into yours while the pace of his thrust changes into slow and hard, as though he is taking his time to savour every inch of you.

You whine needily into the kiss as his lips move against yours sensually, kissing you as though you are something so precious while you feel the cold metal of his lip ring caressing your lips. You feel his hand gripping your wrists loosening before he grabs one of your hands and lowers it next to your head, only for his fingers to interlace with yours affectionately. He slips his tongue into your parted lips, licking and memorising every inch of your hot cavern tenderly. You feel butterflies in your stomach at the overflowing affection from him.

“Hee, I-I feel—” You moan as you gasp into his mouth, feeling the pleasure in you that reaches its peak, your bucking hips nearly stuttering as he rubs your clit skilfully fast while his thrusts feel like a telltale sign of his own peaking pleasure.

Heeseung pants hotly into your moaning mouth, his tongue meeting yours in a swirl before kissing you again. “Me too, my love. Let go for me anytime now.” On his command, you tumble over the edge of ecstasy as you come hard on his cock, your body trembling with the intoxicating waves of pleasure rolling over you.

Heeseung grunts against your lips, delivering one last thrust that nearly has you seeing stars before slamming his hips into yours and pressing you down while you feel a copious amount of his release deep inside of your womb, your back arching at the pleasurable sensation of his cock burying to the hilt in you as it twitches. He is quick enough to recover that prompts him to withdraw from you, eliciting a whimper at the way his cock slides from your sensitive cunt and disappointment as he slowly backs away from you.

You meet Heeseung’s eyes again, noticing the way they darken at the sight of his cum leaking from your exposed cunt before they meet your eyes with a soft smirk unfurling his lips. “I’m not the only one claiming you tonight, love.” Just as he says this, Red strides past him, drawing your attention and causing your pussy to clench in anticipation when he unzips his pants, allowing you to see a visible bulge straining against his brief.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’m gonna make you feel good.” Red says huskily as he hovers above you with one hand supporting his weight while the other frees his erection from the confines. You don’t look down, stunned by the heaviness of his cock as he taps just the head to your clit that instantly renewed with vigour. “This might hurt a little. Just focus on my voice, yeah?”

You dismiss the smugness in his tone, too distracted by his huskily attractive voice that awakens the butterflies in you before a gasp leaves you when he slowly inserts his cock into you, inch by inch, allowing you to feel the painful stretch at the sheer thickness of his girth. Upon hearing your quiet whimper, he lowers his hand to your clit and rubs it with his thumb in calculated yet tender strokes, alleviating the pain.

“I got you, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, relishing the way your velvety walls snugly grip his cock like a lover. He nearly wants to press a kiss to your mewling lips, forgetting that he isn’t allowed to remove his mask under Heeseung’s order. He continues to deliver sweet nothings to your ear while you clench around his cock every so often at his attractive voice, eliciting a deep groan from him.

The entirety of his cock is now buried in you, but he doesn’t move just yet, his thumb remains stimulating your clit, which enables you to feel nothing but pure pleasure despite the stretch from his girth. Your hips buck up lightly, bringing a grin to his lips before he begins to pull back his cock that is glistening with your arousal and plunges deep into your cunt, repeating the action.

“It’s so—” You gasp as your body shakes from the impact of his thrust, prompting you to latch your hand on his forearm as he has his hand planted next to your head. “It’s so big!” You moan out, your hips moving to meet his in a perfect tandem that allows you to feel his cock at deeper heights.

“Oh, yeah? I’m big for you, sweetheart?” Red smirks down at you, his eyes tracing your every nuance as you are evidently in a state of bliss. “You’re taking me like a champ, like I know you would. Fuck, I’ve always wanted to be buried in your sweet pussy like this.” He groans when you clench hard around him, causing his cock to throb. “Keep clenching around me like that. You’re doing so well for me.”

His praise ignites something in you as you preen; his affection and how tender he is in the way he fucks you turn you on further. He continues to utter sweet things to you without losing his momentum, and you can’t help but compare how different he is to Heeseung despite them fucking you similarly.

“You like your clit being played with, sweetheart?” Red utters softly, enjoying how sensitive you are as he continues to rub your clit in addicting strokes, making you roll your eyes to the back with your hips chasing for both his cock and thumb. “You’re so fucking cute and so, so perfect for me. It’s like your pussy is made for me.”

You moan softly at his words, your hand gripping his forearm tight. The consistency in his thrusts immediately falters when he lets out a sound between a groan and a growl, sending waves of pleasure through you, and before you know it, he slams his cock into you with unbridled fervour, instantly bringing you to newer heights of ecstasy.

Tears prick in your eyes at the roughness he sets in his pace, a stark contrast to the previous loving stroke. Being conscious of how loudly you moan, you turn your head to the side and bury your mouth into his arm, snuggling your face into his warmth, rather adorably, that enhances his possessiveness, his cock lodging deeper to the point you are seeing stars. 

“I’m getting close, sweet thing.” He rasps, his thumb rubbing your clit at a maddening stroke that drives you to the edge of delirium while the intensity of his thrusts is slowly reducing you to nothing. “Come with me now, sweetheart.”

You don’t need to be told twice, because with one last thrust, Red matches the crescendo of your release, his own washing over him in a torrent of ecstasy with his sticky essence spilling in you, mixing with your cum. You whine and squirm under him as he delivers slow yet brief thrusts for his cock to relish the last of your sweet pussy that is pulsating around him.

Red slowly pulls away his cock that is glistening with your union of release and backs away from you, only for his figure to be overshadowed by Black, the latter closing in on you faster than your brain can comprehend.

“You got me having a painful boner, babydoll.” Black says, his voice thickening with a palpable desire as he looms over your weak figure, his hands moving to unzip his pants. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be ruined, and your pussy will yearn for my cock constantly.” Your pussy clenches with both excitement and fear at his words.

Black groans, holding back the beast within him from devouring you wholly as you lie beneath him with your pretty eyes sparkling with the familiar innocence and how he gets turned on by the translucent stockings wrapped around your legs. His hand rubs on the side of your leg, feeling you up before taking you by surprise when he hoists your leg over his shoulder.

You marvel at the flexibility you had no idea existed, how it bends to his will while he adjusts in aiming his cock at your awaiting hole. “You’d make the perfect cheerleader, baby.” He comments with a groan before pushing his cock into you in one go, giving you no time to adjust to his girth when he thrusts with an unyielding force.

Your face contorts into both pleasure and pain as you throw your head back, baring your dainty neck to him, which entices him to wrap his fingers around it, and he does, eliciting a gasp from you when he squeezes your throat. Despite knowing that he could easily snap your neck, your arousal seems to intensify at the idea of being choked while he obliterates your pussy, causing you to arch into him.

“Guess babydoll has a kink.” The smirk in his tone is evident, taking great pleasure at the gasps and stuttered moans from you as he squeezes your neck occasionally. “You like this? Like getting choked while I—"He pauses, withdrawing his cock, only to ram into you harder than the previous, bruising your hips. “—while I ruin your sweet pussy?”

Your eyes go white as you surrender to the painful pleasure that brings you to another state of pure bliss, moans spilling from your lips, completely incoherent, but he squeezes your neck again in warning, forcing you to focus in the hollow sockets of his mask while you hear his ragged breathing. “Answer me.” He commands in a growl.

“I like it!” You manage to utter, your breathing getting irregular from the overwhelming sensation of getting fucked with reckless abandon.

“Tell me that you love being my cockslut.” Black demands with cruel delight at the same time he shows leniency in the way he slowly removes his fingers from your throat. “Tell me that you love getting ruined by us.”

“I love being your cockslut!” You moan as he hoists your other leg over his shoulder, finding yourself in a mating press that allows you to feel his cock deeper to the hilt. “I love getting ruined by you!” Your admission has the other guys undeniably hard, how desperate and needy you sound.

“Look at you.” Black growls, his voice huskier than earlier, as he pounds into you relentlessly while the squelching sound of your sexes in union reaches your ears. “You were made for this, to take my cock.” The sensation of his brutal cock lodging deeper is overwhelming, heightening your sensitivity as you feel your pleasure reaching a crescendo, the familiar inevitable about to rain on you.

Without announcing your arrival, you come hard on his cock, your body trembling with overwhelming pleasure, but he doesn’t stop just yet, pounding harder and harder while you whimper and whine from the overstimulation, completely helpless under him.

“This pussy is mine now.” Black grunts, delivering one last hard thrust before going completely still, lodging his cock deep in you while you feel his release filling you to the brim. He teases you with a few thrusts while your cunt pulsates around him. 

Black lowers your aching legs before pulling away from your cunt that is leaking with the union of your cums, eliciting a whimper from you as you feel oversensitive. “Last one, baby. Don’t disappoint my best friend now.”

Upon his words, Grey steps forward, and there is something menacing about him with his hollow sockets staring at you that makes you want to cower away. You make a pathetic attempt to close your legs and drag your body despite the weight of exertion pressing you down, but he is quick enough to catch you, manhandling you in a way that has your head dizzying before finding yourself in a different position.

Ironically, you feel more vulnerable with your back facing them, especially when Grey forces your legs to spread, exposing your slick-smeared cunt to them. A gasp leaves your lips at the stinging pain on your right bum before a moan tears from your throat at the abrupt intrusion of his cold, slender fingers shoving into your hole.

“You’re pathetic and disgusting, princess.” Grey’s hatred is apparent despite his voice thickening with desire while he continues to thrust his fingers into your sensitive pussy. “I knew that you were a slut behind that good girl act.”

You know that in any other circumstances, you would feel hurt by his words, but right now, you feel a sense of pleasure as he continues to spit demeaning words to you while you fuck back into his fingers with your head lolling to the back. The way you move sensually with your heavenly round bum look has him groaning deeply before he unsheathes his fingers from you, eliciting a whine of disappointment from you.

“Patience, slut.” You squeak when he brings his palm down and smacks your right bum again. You hear him unzipping his pants, and you feel inclined to wiggle your ass at him, as though to taunt him. “Look at you, princess. Getting excited for my cock.”

Without any warning, Grey shoves his cock into your awaiting hole, and somehow, you feel tighter even after taking three cocks. You gasp at the sensation of his sheer girth that feels long and thick, making you feel full instantly. “Still so fucking tight after getting ruined by more than one cock. Fucking slut.” He scoffs, giving your bum a resounding smack that brings tears to your eyes.

Grey proceeds to fuck you, slamming his hips into yours unforgivingly as his cock stretches your velvety walls deliciously. You begin to get handsy with your hands, needing to ground yourself as the way he bullies his cock into you nearly brings you to the wrong side of heaven. He makes a disapproving noise under his breath before grabbing your arms and locking them behind you expertly with one hand while the other delivers another smack to your burning bum.

“I don’t care if you’d be breaking by the time I’m through with you. Just fucking take it.” Grey says harshly through ragged breathing, each thrust is punctuated by the apparent hatred he harbours for you, and yet you feel more turned on than ever, loving this pain he’s bestowing on you.

“H-Harder.” You utter feebly, and a broken moan leaves your lips when he fucks you harder, causing your whole body to shake from the impact. His consistency remains, his cock battering your insides relentlessly while you moan out from the pleasure wantonly that only seems to spur him further.

“Taking cock is all you’re good at.” Grey growls under his breath as he presses his body into you, allowing you to hear his husky voice clearly as he speaks in your ear, all the while without faltering his brutal thrusts. “Your greedy pussy will always need more than one cock, because that’s what you are, a hungry cockslut.”

You moan at his words, and upon watching the pure, fucked-out bliss on your angelic face, he can’t resist the temptation and shoves his now-ungloved fingers into your mouth. “Suck on them like how you would suck my cock, princess.”

You do as he tells you, your tongue licking his fingers sensually and sucking on them. You choke on his fingers as he lodges them deeper into your mouth, hitting your throat that vibrates with your moans as his cock hits the delicious spot relentlessly. You gasp out as soon as he removes his fingers from your mouth, your spit covering his fingers wholly.

Your eyes roll to the back in pleasure when he rubs your clit with the same fingers he choked you with, your mouth gaping with pornographic moans as he rubs your bundle of nerves harder and faster while his cock remains constant in hitting the spot in your sopping cunt. You hear him groaning deeply at how submissive and needy you are as you attempt to spread your legs further at the same time you move your hips to match the way he’s assaulting you with his cock and fingers.

“Look at you being so needy for me, princess.” Grey murmurs, his voice carrying an undertone of affection, eliciting a mewl from you as you feel the instinctual need to bask in his warmth. “You’ll be the perfect cockslut for us, for me.”

Even without words of your imminent arrivals, your bodies seem to be in tune with each other, because with one last earth-shattering thrust and a hard flick to your clit, his orgasm crashes down on him at the same time your orgasmic release rolls through you like tidal waves, his cum mixing with yours, marking the finality of the leaders’ claims on you.

Your heart flutters when you feel the lip shape on his mask pressing into your bare shoulder, as though he’s giving you a kiss before disappointment dawns on you as he slowly pulls away, allowing you to feel his girth dragging along your battered walls. But the disappointment is slowly replaced by sheer exhaustion of the aftermath, leaving you to remain exposed in their eyes that you can’t seem to feel any humiliation.

You hear muffled sounds from behind, as though a conversation is happening between them, and just when sleep is taking over your consciousness, your eyes snap wide open on high alert at the sensation of something sharp grazing down on your skin before the dreadful realisation hits you that someone is wielding a knife with its cold blade tantalisingly caressing your right bum.

“This is gonna hurt, love, but you’re strong. You can take it.” White, no, Heeseung tells you with a soothing lull that is ineffective in influencing sleep over your terrified figure. 

You open your mouth to speak, but instead, a scream tears from your throat at the searing pain of the blade digging into your tender skin. You attempt to move, wanting to get away from him, but he easily overpowers you with one hand, locking your arms together in a bind behind you while he continues to torment you with his knife.

You can only afford to cry out at the painful sensation that is unlike anything else. After what feels like forever, your cries abate as you heave soft sobs once the blade leaves you, feeling warm liquid dripping down your skin while you have no notion what he did to your skin that remains burning from the cruel aftermath.

As the series of events that unfold in one night flashes on your mind, your body feels the inevitable trauma that renders you paralysed before going into a profound state of shock. Eventually, you succumb to the oblivion that beckons you to its cold arms, leaving you at your most vulnerable state in the eyes of your surrounding predators.

A profound silence settles in the room, being courteous enough to look away from your half-nudity when their best friend begins to treat your wound at where Heeseung carved their mark on you just moments ago while you remain unconscious from all the exertion, fallen in a deep slumber. They would never leave you to deal with treating any wounds on your own, and besides, you’re theirs to take care of now.

After you passed out, Sunghoon offered to carry you to his room and would be the one treating all of your wounds since out of the four of them, he is far more capable and has the proper aiding tools. He has been treating you with extra care, leaving no wounds or blisters unattended or done with improper care. Plus, in his words, he didn’t trust his best friends enough as he was sure that if any of them had been the one instead, your wounds may develop infection.

Thankfully, his best friends have their backs facing him as he focuses on cleaning the last of your wound with an antiseptic before patching it up with a bandage. All the while, his thoughts are filled with how utterly ridiculous he was for being oddly generous by letting the girl he hates sleep on his bed and the fact that he has never invited any girl into his room or even bed, as he is very particular about cleanliness. Yet, here you are. Never again, he thinks.

As soon as Sunghoon is done, the other three return their gaze to you while he proceeds to wash his hands, now tucked under the covers while your hair is sprawled out in tendrils. With the moonlight streaming in, casting a gentle glow on your serenity, you look like an angelic mess, and due to the aftermath, you look so frail that it makes them fiercely devoted to protecting you, a natural instinct they have towards you now.

Now, the four leaders are scattered around in Sunghoon’s room, but their eyes never stray from your serene form, because something about you feels oddly comforting, like a home they’ve been searching for a long time deep down. However, only three of them exchange knowing looks as the same curiosity remains lingering in their heads.

“What are you planning, Heeseung?” Jay asks quietly, drawing Heeseung’s attention from you. Despite knowing each other since diapers, he could never read the latter most of the time.

“You know that this changes quite literally everything, at least until we graduate.” Sunghoon adds on, being careful with the volume of his voice as he does not want to wake you up.

“Listen, I like Y/N, but—” Though Jake is directing his opening statement to Heeseeung, Sunghoon cuts him off with a ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ look while Jake merely shrugs his shoulders. “Well, yeah, she’s a nice girl, a pretty sweet one at that. Who wouldn’t like her?” He says before focusing back on Heeseung. “Anyway, as I was saying, we haven’t had anyone to prey on for years since the moment we took up the position as devil’s knights’ leaders, and the mark was created by the founders of Devil’s Knights, which not only represents us but is also a mark meant for the leaders’ prey.”

“And you do realise that she now bears the mark.” Jay points out the obvious as he folds his arms over his chest, standing at a neutral point, but he doesn’t wish for Heeseung to regret his actions. “Y/N, out of all people. I don’t know if you thought this through—"

“Remember the conversation we had last week?” Heeseung cuts him off; his tone and demeanour remain disconcertingly calm. The three leaders slowly nod their heads as they recall a certain memory. “We vowed that we would do anything to destroy our fathers and possibly their empire too. This is it. This is just the beginning.”

“And how does that have anything to do with Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, displaying genuine confusion as the rest do, and yet a part of them feels wickedly intrigued.

“She’s the key.” Heeseung simply says as he moves towards you before stopping right next to the bed, his eyes softening as he reaches out to stroke your cold cheek gently. “At least not directly. It’s just too bad that she has no idea she is caught up in the mess too.” Though Heeseung’s answer doesn’t satisfy their curiosity, they know that he will elaborate more as time passes.

“Y/N now officially bears the mark as our prey, and no matter how much you hate that she has been chosen, I expect you to follow the tradition that has always run this fraternity.” Heeseung smirks, his eyes never leaving your angelic face as he continues to stroke your cheek affectionately. “Corrupt, destroy, and bend her to your will.”

“I’m not even complaining.” Jake says with a devious grin, chuckling at the blatant reaction of Sunghoon, who clearly despises the idea, while Jay seems neutral, but his face has a tinge of distaste. Jake could never blame them, though, because neither of them expected Heeseung to carve the mark on her.

“It’s going to be tough since she has a protective circle of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” Jay grumbles, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the thought of your annoying friends.

“About that, I called Winter to inform Y/N’s roommates to come over and get her home,” Jake informs them, rubbing his nape sheepishly when two Parks glare at him in disbelief. “They’re already on their way here.”

Sunghoon scowls at him. “Oh great! Watch them disapproving and protesting. You already know how much they despise us.” 

A smirk touches Heeseung’s lips, a familiar devilry shadowing his features. “I’m not too worried because they know better than to mess with a devil’s knight’s prey.”

Your consciousness keeps fading in and out, as though it is reluctant to face the reality that awaits you, but it eventually enables you to feel the terrible aches all over your body and a stinging pain in your lower body part as it is being pressed down into the surface of something familiar, albeit a fleecy-like padding. Though the exhaustion settling in your body feels like it's on a different level, you slept well, suspiciously too well, as though your soul was on the other side of the universe, and with how fatigued you feel, you are tempted to return to a deep slumber.

But you are roused fully awake as an incessant pounding pummels into your skull, causing your face to contort into a grimace, and as you make an attempt to move your body, a wince leaves your lips at the familiar stinging sensation that you feel so distinctly somewhere around your backside. Your mind drifts from the pain you are feeling, only focusing on collecting the fragments of the events that transpired last night, which eventually coalesce into one account, prompting you to snap your eyes wide open in horror.

“Oh, no, no, no, no! It can’t be—" You continue to prattle, having no clue whether or not the words tumbling past your lips are intelligible, but the memory of the number of events that happened in one night is unmistakably fresh in your mind. You force yourself to calm your erratic nerves as you inhale and exhale deeply. 

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Maybe some of those were just your imagination.” You reassure yourself before abruptly raising your body vertically, only for it to be a mistake when the ache intensifies in your lower abdomen, but your attention shifts to the bandages on each side of your forearms, wondering when you got minor injuries.

Your feet feel particularly sore before you pull away the duvet that’s been covering your legs, your baby pink shorts allowing the full view of a few bandages decorating your skin while your feet are nearly covered with rolled bandages. No, it is definitely not just your imagination. You remember clearly how your feet were swelling and bearing blisters after having to run away from the relentless danger.

A shaky breath leaves your lips before the sense of disgust comes to you. Not only do you feel like absolute shit, but you feel so disgusting that it makes you want to shred every inch of your skin. Caught in a whirlwind of chaotic emotions, you fail to realise that your body has yet to recover from the exhaustion, resulting in you falling over your bed and your body making contact with the cold hard ground with a loud thud.

“Ouch!” You moan loudly at the brutal impact, tears welling in your eyes from the pain that adds to your misery, or maybe you’re just overwhelmed by everything. You hold back your tears as you attempt to push yourself up.

The impact could probably be heard from outside of your room, because in just a few seconds, thundering footsteps approach your room before the door swings open with your best friends barging in, appalled by your current situation. “Y/N!”

Instead of turning and asking them for help like you would usually do, you simply ignore them, your jaw locking with tension as you are determined enough to help yourself, but Wonyoung and Yunjin are quicker than you as they swiftly offer their aid by grabbing you on each side and carefully assisting you to stand. 

“I didn’t need any of your help! I had it handled!” You lash out at them, choking back on a sob as you yank your aching arms from them, prompting Wonyoung and Yunjin to exchange looks, but you are too occupied in the sense of betrayal from your friends, because they should’ve told you everything and what to expect in the first place, especially since they have always been Devil’s Night’s regulars.

Karina observes your odd temperament, noticing the tears in your waterline. “Y/N, you didn’t have to lash out at them. They were helping you because you were clearly struggling.” Her tone is missing the usual mirth, but you could not bring yourself to care. 

Yunjin shakes her head at Wonyoung, but the latter cautiously approaches you as if you’re a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. “We understand that you had a rough night—”

“You don’t understand anything, let alone what I feel.” Your voice holds a palpable tremor, struggling to control the anger that’s been boiling within. You glare at them, taking them by surprise with a brief hurt flashing in their eyes. “I feel shitty, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Is there anything you need, Y/N?” Yunjin asks gently, focusing on you instead of her feelings that were hurt by your words and actions.

“What I need is to be alone and take a damn shower. I feel so icky.” You grumble under your breath as you force yourself to head to the shower in spite of the constant difficulty of the aches in your legs. You nearly falter in your steps as you recall how you were voluntarily willing to be theirs last night, willing for them to take you as they please.

You clench a fist before continuing your destination, oblivious to the wary looks being exchanged between your best friends. “Uh, Y/N—”

You ignore them again as you turn on the faucet, allowing the water to run before you cup a handful of water with your palms and splash it to your face, but as you bend down further to wash your face in the sink for another time, you wince at the painful stretch of what it feels like a wound on your backside so distinctly.

“What the hell?” You whisper, your face contorting into confusion before turning your body to an angle where you can see the right side of your body in the mirror. You pull down your waistband, not even bothered that your best friends are still watching you, and you swear you feel your heart sinking in the pit of your stomach. “Oh my God—”

You are not even shocked, just completely mortified by the grotesque image of what it looks like someone had used the tip of a knife to skilfully carve an upside-down cross on your skin, and with how the condition of the wound is looking, you fear that it will leave a permanent scar on your skin. And it’s not just someone, because you clearly remember Heeseung being the responsible one.

“We were trying to tell you about it.” Karina says quietly as the atmosphere feels unsettling. “You bear the mark of the Devil’s Knights’ leaders now.”

“W-What?” You stammer, your voice trembling with both fear and disbelief while your head is in a disarray of chaos. “I don’t understand. Their mark? So what does this mean for me?” You dare to ask, tears blurring your vision with each blink.

Your best friends exchange looks again, but this time, the shadow of secrecy passes by in their countenance, giving you a strong sense that there is more than they seem to let on, and you hate how insecurity begins to creep up on you.

“It means they own you now.”

The ordeal remains a haunting playback in your mind, as though you are experiencing it all over again. You feel horrified by the things that happened on one night, immoral behaviours that were deemed lawful by the government you thought would make the world a better place, but above all, you feel completely revolted at yourself, as you know that you have no one to blame but yourself.

You feel horrible, needing the urge to vomit, but nothing comes out, and it feels like you are on the brink of insanity. You didn’t sleep a wink last night, and you didn’t even step a foot outside, refusing to deal with any of your best friends. There is no doubt that your eccentric behaviour alarms them gravely, as evident in the way their worry for you remains constant and they take turns knocking on your door to get you to come out and eat something, but you remain nonverbal, eventually forcing them to resign.

It is not that you hate your best friends, and you don’t think you could ever hate them, but you can’t look at their faces yet, seeing how they seemed to accept the horrifying fact that you now bear a mark that indicates you are the leaders’ property and how their normalcy truly confounds you as if whatever happened on Devil’s Night is barely a memory. You can’t help but feel resentful towards them, knowing that they have been attending Devil's Night since freshmen, because how do they still not find any issues in the annual festivity that entails such heinous pursuits?

You love your best friends; you really do, but right now, as you have been reflecting deeply, you wonder if you truly know them, or anyone around you for that matter. Or maybe they’re just the same as the Devil’s Knights, except the masks they wear are not tangible, but the thought of it unnerves you the same.

You examine yourself in the mirror once more, wearing an outfit that highlights modesty, a stark contrast to the dress you wore two nights ago, and you never knew a dress could hold a weight of memories. You can feel your hand trembling as you wait patiently for your mother to answer your call, pressing your phone to your ear.

“Hi, Mom.” You greet your mother on the line steadily, but you can feel yourself getting weaker in your resolve.

“Hey, sweetie. You’re up early on a Sunday.” Your mother’s kind and gentle voice is soothing to hear, and yet it brings tears to your eyes. You yearn to be in her warm, comforting arms, where you feel undoubtedly safe. You wish to be the innocent little girl in your mama’s arms.

“I’m planning to head over to the church near campus since I was always so busy with school.” You tell her, mustering a smile in your tone as you quickly wipe a fallen teardrop from the corner of your eye. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s sleeping. He just got back from a tiring night shift.” Your mother informs you, but you sense a certain tone of knowingness in her tone as she continues to speak. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Nothing. What makes you think that?” You try your best to be indifferent, now making your way to grab your sling purse from the hanging rack. “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“I know my daughter, Y/N. It isn’t like you to call me at this hour. Did something happen to my sweetie?”

Alas, the tears brimming in your eyes cascade down your cheeks, and thankfully you choose to go for a barefaced look. “Um, am I still good, Mom?” Your voice cracks in between, allowing your true emotion to surface.

“Of course you are. You are always good, and goodness is always inside of you.” Your mother remains constant in the way she speaks to you in a soft lull, being patient with you as you try to find the right words but careful enough not to expose yourself.

“But what if I did something bad?” You ask sullenly. “What if I sinned?” You already did — giving away your virginity voluntarily to the four men you couldn’t help but be attracted to.

There is a brief silence on the line, and you can’t discern whether your mother is mad at you or not. “Sweetie, there is no denying that you are God’s blessed child, and purity has always been a big part of you, but you are a human just like the rest. You’re bound to make mistakes. So if you have sinned, you should already know what to do next.”

“Are you mad at me?” You ask meekly, swallowing a lump in your throat. You hate disappointing your mother. You are sure enough that she would disown you without hesitation if she ever found out about what happened.

“No, I’m not.” Your mother reassures you. “Have a safe journey on your way to the church, alright? I love you, always. Remember that, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Mom.” You reciprocate as your voice comes out shaky before you end the call. You quickly stuff your necessities in your sling purse before exiting your room cautiously as you slowly and quietly close the door behind you. You know that your roommates are still asleep at this time, but you want to be extra cautious.

After successfully exiting your dormitory building, you decide to hail a cab outside, lacking the energy to take a bus ride. As the driver drives you to the destination, you take the moment to close your eyes and put your mind at ease, but only negativity manages to invade your short-lived peace. The devilry whispers, telling you how you should just give up and succumb to what your heart desires most.

Thankfully, you have arrived at your destination before you can dwell further. You exit the cab after paying the fare, your eyes magnetically drawn to the divine building ahead of you. Your stomach churns with relentless guilt while your heart throbs, but you force yourself to advance. A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you shivers and prompting you to hug your white coat around your figure. It has also been quite some time since you visited the church that is situated on the same street as the campus due to the heavy workload given by your professors for the past months that you didn’t even have the time to visit.

Before you can even step foot onto the holy ground, you feel a familiar chill running down your body with the back of your hair rising, prompting you to daringly look over your shoulder, your eyes scanning your surroundings, completely paranoid. You swear that you feel eyes burning straight into your figure, and even as you finally enter the building, you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you from afar.

But as you amble further in, you feel at ease, tension dissipating in every part of your body and mind as the familiar tranquillity in the ambience feels like a gentle hug, assuring you that despite the sins sitting on your shoulders and the guilt weighing on your conscience, you will be pardoned in the end.

Fortunately, the place is not as crowded as you expected since it is still too early for the service to begin. You offer a polite smile to the sisters walking past you as they welcome you warmly with smiles.

The pastor, who appears to be speaking to one of the members of the church, directs his focus to you, missing the way his eyes glimmer with an inexplicable emotion. Once his eyes meet yours, a warm smile touches his lips. “It has been a while, my child.”

You reciprocate his smile with politeness despite your nerves returning to eat you up on the inside. “It has. School has been keeping me occupied.”

“I admire your optimism, but it’s still early to start the service.” He tells you with genuine confusion. 

You release a shaky breath, mustering bravery while regret shines in your eyes and the guilt pierces into your heart like a deadly thorn. “I have a confession to make.”

His smile falters just slightly. He tips his head in the direction where the familiar booth of the sacrament of penance is, beckoning you to follow him. “Come, child.”

It isn’t long until you have finally reached it, now seated on the chair with your heart pounding against your chest. Your hands tremble as they rest on your thighs, but you clench them into fists.

“Whenever you are ready.” He says to you from the other side of the wall.

The events that transpired two nights ago are like a film in your mind as you recall them. A tumultuous mixture of emotions is palpable within you while you attempt to remain collected. 

With a shaky breath, you begin your confession, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned……”

DKP TAGLIST:

@wave2hoon @nyxtwixx @somuchdard @bgirly318 @en-doll

@enhamonsterghoul

PERM TAGLIST 1:

@ja3yun @yzzyhee @sunpov @vveebee @jiryunn

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@in-somnias-world @jezzzzzzmin @deobitifull @doublebunv @mamuljji

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

So, since Crowe is definitely my first fave of tab, so I just had to write more about him! Mostly focus on relationship canons, but shoutout to @i90o3 for the inspo! 

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

I also threw in a bunch of my own general headcanons because honestly, Crowe has so much lore that I could talk about him forever (I won’t; it’ll be too damn long.)

He's got this whole backstory and vibe that I can't get enough of. Plus, I’m all about fleshing out his character even more, so I added a few of my personal twists on how I see him in different situations, especially when it comes to relationships. 

He's such a layered character, and it's fun to dive deep into his personality.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Okay, so let's talk about Crowe as a boyfriend. Honestly, he's everything—the perfect mix of charm, attention, and emotional depth. If you're the type of person who wants a relationship that's all about connection, balance, and growing together, Crowe is that guy. 

He's basically the definition of a dream guy—like, he’s got that old-school chivalry thing down, a fucking prince, but it's not forced or anything. It just comes naturally to him. He’s thoughtful in ways that’ll make you smile, like he’s always paying attention to what you need and finding ways to show you he cares. The affection? Relentless, in the best way possible. He’ll make you feel like the center of his universe without hesitation.

And if you’re someone who thinks love can’t be that over-the-top, grand, movie-romance type, Crowe is out here proving everyone wrong. He’s the type to sweep you off your feet with the little things and make every moment together feel like an wonderful love story.

✑ The Gentleman Extraordinaire

GENTLEMAN, GENTLEMAN, GENTLEMAN. DEAR LORD! Okay, okay, hear me out—Like, I started playing the game for Sol—I was all in for Sol, but then Crowe shows up, and suddenly I’m sitting here like, "Sol, who?" Crowe doesn’t just win your heart—he walks in, takes it, and leaves you wondering how you ever lived without him. He’s that boyfriend who ruins all other boyfriends because he’s not trying to compete—he’s just naturally that good at loving you.

He’s got this smooth, polished vibe, like a real-life Prince Charming, but not in some cheesy, over-the-top way. No, Crowe’s the kind of charming that feels real because it is He’s not all about appearances—there’s this kindness and humility that just grounds him. He’s perfect, but not in an intimidating way; he’s perfect in a “why this man doesn’t exist?” way. T-T

You know when he shows up to meet your friends or family? Game over. He’s got that effortless grace, that charisma that makes everyone around him feel special. Your friends are like, "Wow, he’s amazing," and your mom is already planning the wedding. But here’s the thing—Crowe doesn’t care about impressing everyone. He just cares about you, His whole vibe screams, “I’m here to love you and make your life amazing.” And he does.

He doesn’t wait around asking, “When are you free?” Nope. Crowe says, “Meet me outside in 20,” and next thing you know, you’re at this secret little café, or on a picnic in some perfect, out-of-the-way spot, or just laying on the grass, looking up at the stars that somehow feels magical—not odd because he’s there. And everything he does feels so intentional—like, this man doesn’t try to be romantic; he is romantic.

He’s that guy who makes opening doors and pulling out chairs look like an art form. Like, you could be wearing sweats, but somehow when you’re out with him, the whole scene feels like it belongs in a movie. 

Date night with Crowe? Babe, you’re not just going out for a night—you’re straight-up walking into a fashion shoot without even trying. This man is obsessed with matching outfits, but not in a cheesy way. Nah, it’s all about that subtle, cohesive vibe—same color schemes, the same textures.

And when you’re brainstorming outfits together? That’s part of the fun! It's like a mini fashion show before the actual date. And don’t even get me started on how he lets you borrow his clothes. You know this man is elite when his clothes smell like pure heaven and still fit you like a glove. Yall see how that man is built.

Crowe isn’t just boyfriend material, he’s the whole soulmate package. Like, seriously—he’s everything. I’m not even making this up, this man is next level.

✑ The Romantic Idealist

Crowe loves you like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and he’s not shy about it—like, at all. His love is this big, bold, cinematic thing, but also these soft, quiet moments that hit just as hard. It’s like he’s figured out how to be a walking rom-com and your comfort person all at once.

And Prince? Oh, Prince is charming for sure, but let’s be real: he’s more of a mother hen than some storybook prince. Brittney nailed it when she said that. He’s got that whole “nagging but with love” vibe, plus the way he carries himself. It’s giving “protective energy” more than “royal decree.”

And, Oh, you’ll never be unsure about how he feels. The man says, “I love you,” like it’s second nature—like he doesn’t even realize it’s slipping out half the time. And the way he looks at you? You know, the kind of gaze that makes your knees forget how to function? Yeah, that.

Then there are the little surprises: handwritten notes that are so sweet they feel illegal, gifts that aren’t just thoughtful but feel like they were plucked straight from your Pinterest board, and dates planned around stuff you didn’t even realize you’d mentioned. He’s not just big on the show of it; he’s big on knowing you, like, really knowing you.

And if you’re having a bad day or feeling some type of way? Crowe is on it. Insecurity? What’s that? Because he’s about to drop a forehead kiss, some whispered reassurances or even a whole TED Talk about why you’re literally the best human being alive. He’s not stopping until you believe it.

Lastly, flowers? Don’t even get me started. Crowe’s the kind of guy who gives flowers just because it’s Tuesday, and he definitely knows flower language. Like, he’ll bring you a bouquet and casually mention the meaning behind every bloom. It’s all very “main character in a dating sim.” even though he’s very much a second lead energy. You know exactly what I mean.

✑ Intimacy, Comfort, and Softness

Okay, so Crowe’s whole vibe is just… ugh, so comforting, in the way he shows up physically and emotionally. 

Like, this man has a gift for making you feel safe and treasured, but also a little breathless. It’s the way he reads you, you know? He picks up on even the tiniest mood shifts and is right there—whether it’s to hold you, help you, or just let you vent without even asking for it. 

And communication? Oh, he’s the king of creating that safe little bubble where you can spill your guts and not feel judged.

Oh, but don’t let that fool you—this man is such a tease. He loves getting under your skin in that playful, flirty way that has you pouting and glaring at him, and he’s just standing there with this little smirk. And honestly? You’d swear you catch him blushing every now and then when you pout back, but it’s so subtle you almost gaslight yourself into thinking it’s the lighting.

Now, THE HAIR. His Hair ™ deserves its own spotlight.

It’s a masterpiece, okay? Always soft, always smelling faintly of lavender or jasmine or some other magical scent that just makes you wanna dive face-first into it and never leave. Like, what’s his secret? Witchcraft? Angels? I don’t even care—it’s perfect.  

And the texture? Bruh, it’s so smooth it’s unreal. Like, you run your fingers through it once, and suddenly you’re hooked. I’m talking brushing it, styling it, or just running your hands through it like it’s your job. Don’t even get me started. 

But here’s the kicker: when you start massaging his scalp? Game over. This man is so sensitive, like his entire soul leaves his body. But wait, I’m not even close to done. His hair has its own little personality, just radiating vibes that scream, “Take care of me, love me, worship me.” And you do. Because you have to.  

And if you dare to tug on his hair—ohhh, let me tell you, it’s a wrap. He just melts, full-on turns into a puddle with those big heart eyes, looking at you like you’re the only person in the universe. And the way he’s silently begging for more? Sir. Sir. You’re playing a dangerous game, Crowe.  

Soft words, soft touches—the whole package. He’s the kind of person who will cup your face like you're the most important thing in the world and just whisper how incredible you are.

Or he’ll casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear while you’re talking like it’s no big deal, but it makes you feel like you're wrapped up in this cozy, gentle bubble. Honestly, it’s the kind of affection that just melts you.

You’d have him all peaceful and chill, just resting on your chest, no worries. It’s like his version of a personal reset button. I can’t even deal with how perfect that sounds.

Oh yeah! Let’s talk about his sleep, though. Crowe sleeps like a freaking Disney princess. Aurora who? Like, imagine the most peaceful, beautiful sleeping face ever. And okay, yeah, there’s a bit of a “corpse but make it art” vibe, because how can anyone look that good just… lying there? I’m so sorry, couldn't help it.

Crowe is all about that closeness, like, he loves resting his head on you. Whether it’s on the top of your head or just leaning on your shoulder, he thrives on that kind of support. It’s like his way of saying he trusts you with his energy.

And if you smell nice? Oh, he’s all about it. Like, if you're wearing something musky, floral, or have a hint of perfume, he’s in heaven. It’s like his little sensory heaven, and he’ll lean in a little closer just to get that extra whiff. 

When it comes to hugs, it’s a mutual effort—you both kinda have this rhythm after learning each other’s boundaries. But when you do hug, Crowe’s hands usually find their way to your waist, not your chest or neck. It’s like this cozy, grounded thing where he wants to feel close but also be respectful of space. 

If you’re feeling extra chill with him, he’d probably fall asleep in your arms, no questions asked. This boy just needs rest, and you’re the perfect pillow. But if he does fall asleep while hugging you? Good luck getting those arms to move. It’s like they’re made of steel or something—they’re not going anywhere. And honestly, who would want them to? It feels so good being wrapped up in his arms. 

Seriously, though, his hugs are just addictive. Like, once you get one, you just want more. It’s warm, comforting, and feels like a personal little world just between the two of you. Just shower him with hugs in return—he’s craving it, trust me, especially when it’s just the two of you, behind closed doors. You’re honestly doing him a favor. But the only thing that could top his hugs? His kisses, hands down.

Like, don’t even get me started with his kisses—UGHH.

Crowe is ALL about them. Need kisses? Boom. Hands, cheeks, forehead, neck—whatever you want, he’s got you covered, babe. And if you’re cool with a PDA? Honey, he’s laying it on thick.

Like, smooches in front of everyone if anyone even thinks about making you jealous. But if you’re not into PDA, he’s got this smooth way of keeping you close—hand on your waist, pulling you into conversations, constantly checking in with those little glances that just scream, you’re my world.

And when it comes to love? Crowe doesn’t do things halfway. Do you need reassurance? He’s sitting you down for the most real heart-to-heart. Do you want more kisses? Babe, he’s already on it, no hesitation. If you’re the jealous type? Oh, he’s not just telling you he loves you; he’s showing it, making it crystal clear to everyone else, too. 

And the pet names? My love, my dove, my heart—he’s laying them on THICK with a capital T; I swear to god, those aren’t the exact nicknames from the game itself, more like examples as I want you guys to see for yourself as I’m not lying!—I was eating it up every single time.

✑ The Ultimate Hype Man

Crowe is that person who’s just built to hype you up. Like, your wins? Automatically his wins. He’s out here making sure everyone and their mama knows just how proud he is of you.  

But he has serious Cheerleader Energy—like, it’s not even casual. You finally ate today without forgetting, and this guy is acting like you just won Best Picture at the Oscars. Got a good grade on your test? He’s probably already planning a parade route through your neighborhood.

And if you failed that test? No worries—he’s showing up with your favorite snacks, ready to hype you up like, “It’s one test; you’re still a genius, obviously.” Honestly, I could’ve used that kind of energy after finals this year because…wow, the struggle. T-T 

But it’s not just about the hype with Crowe. Oh no, he’s deeper than that. He’s the guy who’s like, “What’s your passion? Let’s chase it down,” and he actually has good advice, not just “follow your dreams” fluff. Like, practical, actionable stuff that makes you feel like you can actually do the thing. And the best part? He’s not just clapping for the big wins; he’s cheering for every little step you take, even the awkward ones. 

Crowe’s that boyfriend—even friend who celebrates you while also making sure you’re constantly leveling up—and honestly, we all need a Crowe in our lives.

And oh, the reliability? Unmatched. Whether you need someone to hash out a problem, cheer you through a tough time, or just sit there as your unshakable rock, he’s there. No doubts, no drama. You can count on him to show up, fully present—both physically and emotionally.  

Also, let’s talk about his socials. They’re basically a love letter to you. Couple pics, goofy candids, and those long, heartfelt stories where he’s just out here spilling about how lucky he is? Crowe’s all about letting the world know how much he adores you.  

✑ Tailored to You

Crowe’s love language? All of them. He's like a walking, talking Swiss Army knife of affection, but with a twist: “I will become whatever you need me to be.” It's honestly wild. His default? Quality Time and Acts of Service, no question. He's the type of guy to be like, "I love you, and here's how I’m going to prove it." But the real magic happens when he adjusts based on whatever makes you happy. Do you like something? Oh, bet. He’ll be all over it, mastering it just for you.

— Physical Touch?  

Crowe's all about that. Like, he will hold your hand just because, mess with your hair while you're chilling, and literally just hug the life out of you. It’s not some half-hearted stuff either—it’s the kind of touch that screams, “You are my world, and I’ll keep you close.” 

— Acts of Service?

If you think you’re doing anything on your own, think again. Crowe's the guy who’s like, “Need help with your assignments? I’ll be your tutor, even if I don’t understand the material, I’ll pay someone or learn it myself. Running errands? I’ve got it covered.” He's all in on making your life easier, and that’s his way of showing love. He’ll get you that coffee you like without even asking.

— Words of Affirmation?

Man, if you thought he was shy with his words, you clearly don't know Crowe. He’s got this endless list of compliments, and he’s not shy about throwing them your way. “You’re amazing, you’re perfect, here’s why—let me list it out for you.” And let’s be real, he can’t stop talking about how great you are. Like, you’ll be sitting with him and next thing you know, he's telling his friends, “They are literally the best person ever,” and his friends just like, “Okay, we get it, you’re in love.”

— Quality Time?

When he’s with you, every second matters. Doesn’t matter if you’re just hanging out, watching a movie, or even just sitting there. He makes everything feel intentional like this moment right now is the only one that matters. He’s not just there, he’s fully present, and that makes everything feel special.

— Gift Giving?

This man doesn't just grab anything random. Oh no, every gift is like a peek into his brain where he’s thought about what would make you smile. It’s always something meaningful that shows he’s paying attention to what you care about. It’s like he can see straight into your soul and get you exactly what you didn’t even know you wanted.

✑ Tailored to Him 

When it comes to receiving love for himself, though? Crowe’s all about Words of Affirmation and Quality Time, with a little sprinkle of Physical Touch in there. And honestly, it makes sense because (okay, I’m guessing here), but he definitely has some emotional trauma—like, maybe growing up too fast? Like he’s so independent… I NEED more into his backstory because something made him this way. 

— Words of Affirmation?  

They’re everything to him. Sometimes he just needs you to remind him that he’s doing okay. Tell him he’s not a failure, that he’s enough, and watch him melt. Like, imagine gently cupping his face and whispering, “You’re amazing, Crowe.” Boom. He’s soft, he’s vulnerable, and he’s all yours.

— Quality Time?  

With his hectic schedule (hello, Student Council energy), any second you spend with him is like gold. And don’t even get me started on the fact that If you ask to hang out? Instant heart eyes. And the man STARES, okay? Like a full-on, unapologetic admiration station. Whether you’re looking back at him or not, he’s just soaking you in because, in his eyes, you’re an his actual deity. 

— Physical Touch?

Okay, so picture this: when you’re out in public with Crowe, there’s always some kind of touching happening, and it’s the softest, most consistent thing ever. Like, dude’s got this constant need to feel you’re there, but it’s not over-the-top—it’s just perfect. Holding hands? That’s a given. Arm brushing as you walk side by side? Absolutely. Waist-hugging? Oh, for sure. 

And you know what? Let’s throw in pinky-holding because I feel like he’s the type who’d totally be into that—like, tell me that wouldn’t be the cutest thing ever! Ugh, I’ve always wanted to try that. My heart can’t take it T-T. If there’s a way to be close to you, he’s doing it. 

Crowe’s basically the poster child for “can’t get enough of you” energy, but somehow it’s not overwhelming? Just... natural, like breathing?

Now, alone time? Oh man, let me tell you, this guy is so touch-starved, and it’s the sweetest thing ever. It’s not like he’s clingy—no, it’s way softer than that. It’s more like this quiet, unspoken please in his body language, like, “I just need you to hold me right now, and maybe, maybe for always.” And when he’s in that space, when he wraps himself up in you, it’s so clear he craves it—but not in a way that feels desperate.

It’s more like he’s letting himself finally believe he deserves to be cared for like this. And oh my god, the kisses. When Crowe kisses you, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the world? It’s not just a kiss, okay? It’s an entire moment, a whole event. Like, “Shut up and take my soul, I guess this is my life now” kind of kiss. It’s breathtaking. You can’t just walk away from that; it stays with you.

Imagine this: you're just chilling on Crowe's bed, right? Lying there, talking about the most random stuff, maybe arguing over whether pineapple belongs on pizza or spiraling into some deep existential question. Just vibing, you know? 

And then… THEN, you start noticing the way he’s looking at you. Like, he’s not just glancing—he’s doing that triangle method thing. His eyes flick from yours to your lips and back again, and you’re like, “Oh… oh he wants to kiss me. Like, RIGHT NOW.” You can feel it. It’s so obvious. He’s got that look, like you’re the only thing in the world he could possibly care about in this moment.  

And it’s so soft at first. You both kind of lean in, and his lips just barely brush yours, like he’s scared he’ll mess it up if he moves too fast. And let me tell you—his lips? SO soft, like pillowy clouds. They’re full and perfect, and the way he kisses you? It’s like he thinks you’re made of glass, like he’s handling the most delicate, precious thing in the entire universe.

But then… something changes.  

Like, something inside him snaps. It’s not just a kiss anymore—it’s a KISS. There’s this desperation, but not in a bad way. It’s like he’s been holding all these feelings in for so long, and now they’re just spilling out, like words he doesn’t know how to say with anything other than this kiss. His lips move with this crazy mix of hunger and tenderness like he’s trying to tell you without words how much you mean to him, how long he’s been waiting for this.  

And the wild part? You can feel it. Every ounce of longing, every stolen glance, every unsaid word—it’s all in that kiss. It’s sweet and fiery at the same time, like he’s savoring every second, but also like he’s terrified it’ll all just vanish if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.  

And then when he pulls away? Oh my god. The way he looks at you. Those deep blue eyes of his just lock onto you, and it’s like the entire universe shrinks down to just the two of you. He rests his forehead against yours, catching his breath, and he doesn’t even have to say anything. It’s just there, written all over his face. That look that says, I’m gone for you. Completely, hopelessly yours.

Also, his hands? Oh, his hands tell their own story. They’re soft and deliberate, cupping your face like you’re his whole world, his thumbs gently brushing over your cheekbones. Sometimes, his fingers hold your hair, pulling you just a little closer like he can’t get enough. Other times, his hands settle on your waist, grounding him, but there’s this light tremble—like even touching you sends a wave of overwhelming affection through him.  

✑ Flaws? Hardly. But…

Crowe’s not perfect, but that’s the thing—his flaws are part of his charm, you know? 

Like, he’s this guy who’ll go out of his way to keep the peace. He’s not about unnecessary drama and will dodge a tough conversation if he can. But here’s the thing—his love for you? It’s bigger than his fear of awkwardness or confrontation. He’ll choose to work through it for the sake of the relationship every time. 

Take how he probably freaked out about confessing to you. Terrified. 

I bet he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he didn’t want to ruin what you two already had. But when push comes to shove, he’d face that fear head-on because, for him, it’s worth it. And don’t even get me started on what happens if someone dares to hurt or disrespect you. 

Sweet, peace-loving Crowe? Gone. You’ll see this bold, fiery version of him who’ll stand up for you without hesitation.

The thing about Crowe is he’ll do everything to make you happy, but sometimes he forgets about himself in the process. He’s so busy putting everyone else first that he can burn out or feel underappreciated, especially if he doesn’t see the same effort coming back. So yeah, remind him now and then that you’ve got his back too. He’ll probably act all humble about it, but he needs it.

And let’s be real—he’s not used to being the one cared for. Crowe’s always been the caretaker, so letting you in? Yeah, he’ll need a little nudge. (Cue those moments where he low-key deflects when it gets too real—classic fanfic material)

His conflict-avoidance thing? That’s where it gets tricky. Like, he won’t let you walk away from an argument upset—no chance. He’ll bend over backward to smooth things over because he has to see you happy. But if the shoe’s on the other foot? Spoiler alert: he might not just come out and say what’s bothering him. Instead, he’ll hit you with questions, all casual-like, about stuff that might be bugging him. It’s almost sneaky, but it’s totally him trying to figure things out without making it a thing.

And oh, my God, the romance. Crowe HAS TO BE extra af. Grand gestures, public displays—he’s all in, and everyone around you is swooning or jealous. It’s cute, don’t get me wrong, but if you’re the shy type?

Yeah, good luck with that.

✑ Thoughts + Ranting

So, disclaimer upfront: none of this is canon, just my thoughts and headcanons. A lot of these ideas come from some scenes in the game (spoilers ahead) and his character profile, which I'll share at the end for context. 

Okay, so something about Crowe just screams "rich kid" to me. I know, it’s probably obvious to some people, but hear me out. In the game, he lives on the other side of town, right? And, spoilers, there’s that scene where he has a driver pick him up on the second day when you two get caught in the rain and at the end of the night, he has to go home.

Like, come on, rich people don’t just walk in the rain, they have drivers. Then let's talk about his clothes for a second. His shirts, especially that purple one, are super fancy. Like, where do you even buy a button-up shirt with that many buttons, and in that exact shade of purple? Not from a fast fashion store. I’m no expert on high-end clothes, but I’m pretty sure those are designer. 

Anyway, he’s definitely got a backstory in the whole “rich hierarchy” world, though I think he’s dropped down a peg or two. After all creator said so herself that Crowe story will be pretty rocky.

There are two ways you can lose that high-ranking rich status: either you flunk out of a class or you do something big that gets you kicked out. 

And with Crowe? I feel like it’s the second option. He’s definitely got that chip on his shoulder like he’s got something to prove, you know? That intense drive to show everyone that he’s more than just whatever they think of him.

— Example One! First-day scene.

So, if you choose the option (though, if I remember correctly, I think you’d become all overwhelmed), you end up having a little cry fest because you’re so worried about being too much for Crowe. 

You’re thinking you’re being overbearing, like maybe you’ve crossed a line, and it’s all too much. So, you’re crying up on the roof—classic, right? But after that, you dry those tears, pull yourself together, and go off to your next class. And, of course, Crowe finds you. And you know what? He’s already comforting you because he can see right through the tired, tear-streaked face and knows exactly what went down. 

But then, just when you think it’s a nice moment, someone from the student council shows up, searching for Crowe. They say he’s been looking for you all over the place, and they need him right now. And Crowe’s response? 

“I don’t fucking care…” Honestly, that moment threw me off guard, but also—like, low-key swoony? Like, you don’t see that kind of attitude every day, and it was kinda hot. 

— Then Crowe’s library scene—oh man.

So, Crowe kinda tests you there. He asks if you’d still stick by “Marie Antoinette” (which I think he’s talking about mom in metaphor) even with all the nasty rumors flying around about her. He’s basically asking if you’d trust her, or if you’d believe all the gossip from both the rich and poor folks alike. And the way he reacts if you choose to stay loyal to her? 

Tears in his eyes. Earn points. It’s heartbreaking, honestly. You can tell he’s got so much riding on that trust like it really means the world to him.

But if you fall for the rumors and go with what everyone else says, Crowe’s visibly upset, and you lose points for it. It’s a tough call, right? Like, on one hand, the rumors could be true, but on the other, I feel like you should trust the person you know best. Trust is everything to him, and it’s hard not to see that.

Also, I’m pretty sure Crowe is an only child. I’m just feeling that vibe, you know? I headcanon that his mom (or both parents, but mostly his mom) are always off working or traveling for work, leaving him alone for long stretches of time. So, he probably spends a lot of time by himself. 

That means he does all the household chores and probably picks up a lot of cooking skills, but here’s the thing: I don’t think he actually eats what he makes that often. He’s probably so used to being alone that he just makes meals for himself but ends up bringing the food to campus for you instead. It’s like a weirdly thoughtful gesture, even if it’s a little lonely at its core. 

— Okay, so I have to add to this because of the new Crowe update? 

Literally a chef's kiss. I just played it recently since I’ve been swamped with finals, so I’m a little behind, but omg. I’m so here for it. Like, I can't wait to see how the story unfolds and especially how Sol’s gonna react to everything. Dammit, creator, why make us wait for it? But honestly, I’ll wait. It’s gonna be worth it, I’m sure.

And, so before the update, Crowe was kinda just... there.

Like, we all knew we had a crush on him, but there wasn’t really much to grab onto, you know? But this update? Oh my god, it’s like they gave him a whole new personality and I’m living for it. He’s such a dreamboat prince now, I just wanna smother him in kisses! Like, mwah, mwah, mwah—someone stops me before I turn into a full-on fangirl. Or Sol himself.

For real, I was laughing the whole time, twirling my hair like some cheesy romcom character. He’s got this whole new charm that’s completely irresistible, and I’m just here for all of it. His vibes are adorable, lowkey a lil freak. If you know, you know.

Like, how did they make him so adorable all of a sudden? He’s the good boy we never knew we needed; he’s out here winning hearts left and right.

Seriously, how can you not love him now?

[qinche-cvmslvt]

Forbidden

Content Warning: NSFW, MDNI, fluff, romance, taboo, Professor Sylus, AU Sylus. Slow burn, sexual and emotional tension. Power dynamic relationships.

Summary: You’re in your final years of schooling. Sweet and freshly 18, Professor Sylus has always made you feel something. But you feel it more now that you’re an “adult”. Perhaps, there’s more to this connection than meets the eye?

A/N: Helloooo, yes I have a problem but I love this concept and I’ve been wanting a professor Sylus fic for a very long time. I am collabing with my sister. She’s a seasoned Kpop fanfic writer hahahah. Anyways, don’t freak out. Every main character in this fic is at 18 and up.

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Chapter 1: After Class

The late afternoon sun slanted through the high classroom windows, bathing the rows of desks in a golden haze. You slid into your usual seat near the front, smoothing your skirt and laying out your notebook with steady, practiced movements. Despite your composed exterior, your heart gave a traitorous flutter the moment your gaze found him at the front of the room. Professor Sylus stood with one hand resting on his mahogany desk and the other writing the day’s lesson title on the chalkboard. Dust motes danced in the sunlight around his tall figure. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing toned muscles that flexed subtly with each stroke of chalk.

At 18 years old and in your final year of high school, you were technically an adult – a fact that emboldened and unsettled you all at once. Yet, sitting in Professor Sylus’ classroom, you felt small and young, as if the mere presence of your teacher could lay bare the schoolgirl inside you. You bit your lip and forced your eyes down to your notebook, fighting the heat rising in your cheeks. Get a grip, you chided yourself silently. It was just another literature class, and he was just your English teacher – confident, brooding, and far too mesmerizing for your own good.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Sylus began, his baritone voice easily commanding the murmurs in the room to hush. You dared a glance upward through your lashes. He surveyed the class with calm authority, jewel-like eyes scanning over students with a measured patience. His gaze passed over you briefly, and for a heartbeat your eyes met. A spark – real or imagined – skittered through your chest. Quickly, you looked back to your blank page, your pulse thudding in your ears.

Sylus cleared his throat and turned toward the chalkboard. On it he had written a line from the poem they’d been studying: “…somewhere between right and wrong, there is a garden. I will meet you there.” The quote hung in the air like a daring secret. “Today,” he said, “we continue our discussion on forbidden themes in literature – the allure of crossing lines that society has drawn.” His voice was smooth but there was an undercurrent of intensity when he spoke of the subject, as if the topic resonated with some private part of him.

As he launched into the lesson, you tried to focus on your notes, not on the man delivering the lecture. Your pen scribbled dutifully, but your attention drifted to him in spite of yourself. Professor Sylus moved with a restrained energy, pacing slowly in front of the chalkboard. The afternoon light caught in his crimson eyes when he turned just so, making them gleam. There was a certain heaviness to his brow – a brooding intensity that made him appear deep in thought even as he taught. He was relatively young for a teacher – you guessed not much older than thirty – and there was a vitality in the way he spoke that held the class rapt.

“Can anyone tell me what the poet might mean by that line?” he asked, tapping the chalk gently under the quote he’d written. His gaze traveled across the room expectantly. A few students shifted in their seats, avoiding eye contact. You knew the class well enough to predict that silence would follow; most were either too indifferent or too intimidated to volunteer an interpretation.

You inhaled quietly, gathering your nerve. This was your favorite subject, and despite the tremor of nerves around you, you couldn’t resist engaging – if only to impress him. Lifting your eyes, you found Sylus already looking your way, as if he anticipated you might speak. The thought sent a little thrill through you.

You raised your hand. “It’s about a place beyond judgment,” you said when he nodded for you to answer. Your voice came out softer than you intended, and you swallowed and continued more clearly. “The poet is saying that outside of right and wrong – beyond the rules and expectations – there’s a space where two people can truly be together. A… a secret meeting place, free from consequence.”

As you spoke, Sylus’ expression shifted almost imperceptibly. The stern line of his mouth eased, and the slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Something warm flickered in his eyes – pride? admiration? – that made your chest tighten.

“Very good,” he said, and that rich voice of his wrapped around the praise in a way that felt personal. “A thoughtful interpretation.” His gaze held yours a second longer than it needed to. In that moment, the rest of the class might as well have not existed.

Your cheeks burned at his approval. You managed a faint smile back before looking down again, hiding behind a curtain of your hair. You could still feel the weight of his eyes on you for a moment more, and the knowledge sent a sweet, forbidden thrill through your veins.

While Professor Sylus went on to elaborate on the poem’s historical context, you dared to steal another glance. He had turned away to address the rest of the class, but there was a new tension in his posture – a stiffness in his shoulders, as if your answer had affected him too. He ran a hand through his silver hair, the fingers briefly tugging in a gesture that might have been subconscious. For an instant, you allowed herself to imagine what it would feel like to run your own fingers through that hair, to soothe whatever turmoil made him look so distant and haunted when he thought no one was watching. The fantasy was as intoxicating as it was inappropriate, and you banished it with a quick shake of your head. Your braid brushed against your neck, grounding you back in reality.

Minutes passed, and you diligently copied down the notes Sylus put up on the board, punctuating them with a few stolen looks in his direction. Each time, your eyes seemed to find some new detail to fixate on: the way the veins in his forearm stood out when he gripped a book to read a passage aloud; the precise cut of his jawline; or the way his voice gentled when he recited a particularly poignant line from the text. There was such passion and nuance in his teaching that you found yourself entranced, hanging on to every word despite the turmoil of attraction stirring inside you.

At one point, as he circulated around the room to check on the students’ annotations, Sylus approached your desk. You straightened your spine, heart drumming. He stopped beside you, close enough that you became hyperaware of his presence—the faint scent of cedar and spice from his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body.

“Do you see how the second stanza reinforces that idea?” he asked softly, leaning down to glance at your open textbook. His face was suddenly much nearer to yours, and you hoped he couldn’t hear how loudly your heart was pounding.

“Y-yes,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. The air between you felt charged. As you shifted slightly, your shoulder lightly grazed his arm. The contact was barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity across your skin. You froze, and so did he.

Sylus drew in a slow breath, his gaze flickering to you. Time seemed to slow in that small moment of accidental touch. You dared to meet his eyes. Up close they were an endless crimson sea, stormy with something unspoken. His jaw tightened as if he was waging some internal battle. Then he straightened, politely putting a safe distance between you once more.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. His tone was steady, betraying nothing, but his adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Keep up the good work.”

You nodded silently, and he moved on, continuing his rounds. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your hand trembled slightly as you underlined a phrase in your book, attempting to appear engrossed in the text while your mind raced. Had you imagined that intensity in his eyes? The way he’d gone still when you touched? Don’t be ridiculous, you tell yourself. He’s your teacher. He was just making sure you understood.

But no matter how you tried to dismiss it, you couldn’t shake the memory of that brief flash in his gaze – like a wild, caged thing peering out. It made your stomach flutter with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

By the time the lesson drew to an end, the sun had deepened to a warm orange, and long shadows stretched across the floor. Sylus returned to the front to wrap up, assigning a short reflection on the poem for homework. The shrill ring of the final bell for the day made several students jump up eagerly, the spell of the class broken as backpacks were slung over shoulders.

You closed your notebook slowly, reluctant for this enchanted, torturous hour to end. Around you, classmates chatted as they filtered out of the room, their sneakers squeaking on the polished linoleum. Normally you would be rushing off as well, joining the after-school buzz in the halls. But today, you lingered, pretending to carefully organize your papers as your mind raced with an idea – or rather, an excuse.

Sylus busied himself at the teacher’s desk as the students departed, stacking essays neatly and wiping a stray chalk smudge from his fingers. His movements were measured, outwardly as composed as ever. Inside, however, his thoughts were anything but calm. Throughout the class he had maintained his usual professional demeanor by sheer force of will, yet now that he was alone… well, almost alone… he exhaled slowly, releasing a tension he hadn’t fully acknowledged until this moment.

He risked a glance upward through his dark lashes. One student remained, hovering at her desk near the front – you. He immediately felt his pulse kick up in response, an unwelcome surge of awareness. She should go, he told himself firmly. Being alone with a student after class was unwise under any circumstance, and with this particular young woman it was downright dangerous to his hard-won self-control.

Sylus had noticed you the very first week he started teaching at Linkon High. How could he not? You were bright, attentive, and disarmingly sincere in your love of literature – a rarity that had drawn his interest initially on a purely intellectual level. But then there were the other things: the way your smile lit up your eyes when you grasped a concept, or the soft tuck of hair behind your ear as you concentrated. Little details that had etched themselves into his mind against his better judgment.

He had brushed off his fascination as simple pride in a star student, nothing more. He was your teacher, after all. Lines existed for a reason, and he was determined never to cross them.

Yet today, when you had given your interpretation of the poem… something in your voice, earnest and a touch vulnerable, had struck a chord in him. Your words about a place beyond right and wrong had felt directed at him in ways you couldn’t possibly know. In that moment, he’d almost forgotten where they were. He had looked at you and seen not just a diligent student but a young woman on the cusp of adulthood – an adult, he reminded himself, albeit a very young one under his care. The realization had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

And then that brief contact – your shoulder brushing his arm – even now he could recall the heat of it. It was nothing, a pure accident, and yet it had set his nerves alight. For the rest of the class he’d struggled to keep his focus on the lesson and not on the memory of how close you’d been, how your perfume—something subtle, with cherry or floral—had left him slightly lightheaded.

Now, as the last of the other students slipped out the door, Sylus forced himself to appear at ease. Calm and collected, he reminded himself, like it meant nothing. With a quiet click, he capped his pen and slid the graded papers into his leather briefcase. Any second now, you would head out as well, and he would be safe to breathe normally again.

But instead of the expected sound of your retreating footsteps, he heard your voice, gentle and hesitant,

“Professor Sylus? Can I ask you something?”

Sylus’s hand paused on the briefcase buckle. He lifted his eyes to find you standing a few paces from his desk, notebook clutched to your chest. Most of your classmates had already disappeared into the hall, leaving an expectant quiet in their wake. The overhead lights were off, and only the honeyed dusk light from the windows illuminated the space, casting half of Sylus’s face in shadow and half in soft, gold light.

For a heartbeat, he simply looked at you, taking in the sight. You looked nervous, biting the corner of your lip in that way he’d come to recognize whenever you were grappling with a thought. The warm glow of sunset danced in your eyes. Why did it feel like the air between you was charged again, now even more intensely than during that fleeting touch?

He cleared his throat, reminding himself to speak. “Of course,” he replied, his tone measured. He leaned back against the edge of his desk to appear relaxed, crossing his arms loosely. “What do you need help with?”

You stepped forward into the aisle between desks, closer by a cautious half-step. You, your mind whispered traitorously. I need you. You banished the illicit thought and drew a slow breath. “It’s about the poem,” you began, willing your voice to sound steady. “Something you said about forbidden themes… it got me thinking.”

In truth, you hadn’t really needed clarification on the lesson – he had been very clear, as always. But the idea of walking out that door felt unbearable when a hundred unspoken questions and feelings swirled inside of you. This was your chance to linger in his presence just a little longer, to maybe confirm if you'd imagined the connection you thought you felt. Even if all you got was a few more minutes of conversation with him, it would be worth it.

Sylus nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving your face. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Which part are you wondering about?”

You came a step closer, until you were right in front of him, the desk between them the only barrier. You set your notebook down atop his desk, open to the page of notes you'd taken. It took all your willpower to keep your hand from trembling. “Here,” you pointed to a bulletpoint in your careful handwriting. “You mentioned how, in literature, forbidden relationships often serve to challenge societal norms. I was just… well, I was curious if you think the writers romanticize those relationships. Do they make it seem more attractive because it’s forbidden?”

Your question hung in the air. In the quiet that followed, you heard the ticking of the classroom clock on the wall, counting the seconds of silence.

Sylus regarded you thoughtfully. He knew literature theory well enough to answer in academic terms – to talk about narrative devices and the human fascination with taboo. Yet as he gazed at your earnest face, framed by a stray beam of golden light, the purely academic answer didn’t seem to be the one caught in his throat. Instead, what came out was a gentle counter-question.

“What do you think?”

You hadn’t expected that. A soft breath escaped you. He often turned questions back on students to encourage critical thinking, but right now the way he asked felt different – almost personal. His voice was lower now, almost intimate in the quiet room. Was it your imagination, or had he inched just a little closer over the desk?

Your fingers fiddled with the spiral binding of your notebook as you gathered your courage. “I think…” you began slowly, searching for words that wouldn’t betray the full depth of what you felt. “I think authors do make it attractive. The risk, the secrecy… it adds excitement.” Your throat felt dry, and you pressed on. “When something is forbidden, maybe it makes every small moment, every glance or touch, feel more meaningful. Because you know it could be taken away.”

As you spoke, your eyes remained locked on the open notebook, tracing the indented lines of your writing rather than looking up at him. It felt safer to voice such things to a page than directly to Sylus’ face. Even so, your heart hammered at your own boldness. You were no longer talking strictly about poems or novels, and you both knew it.

There was a brief rustle, and you realized Sylus had moved. Gently, he reached out and closed your notebook, his long fingers resting for a moment on the cover just beside your own hand. You froze at the proximity – his knuckles only inches from your skin. Your gaze lifted on instinct, drawn by the magnetic presence of him.

Sylus’ eyes met yours, and you saw it again – that flicker of conflict, of heat, carefully restrained behind a composed mask. The dying daylight outlined the strong planes of his face, but his eyes were soft as they searched yours. “Literature isn’t the only place where that happens,” he said quietly. “Sometimes real life mirrors the stories.”

Your breath caught. The desk suddenly felt like an insignificant separator; the space between them crackled with something unspoken. Did he mean… could he possibly be referring to the two of you?

You tried to speak and found your voice had fled. In the silence, your uncertainty must have shown in your face, because Sylus’ expression gentled further. He seemed to be choosing his next words with great care.

“What I mean is,” he continued, tone still soft, “there’s a reason readers are drawn to those stories. A reason we sometimes find ourselves…” He paused, as if debating how frank to be. His gaze flickered down to their hands – his still resting near yours on the closed notebook – and then back up. “…drawn to things we know we can’t have.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There it was – the spark, the admission veiled in careful words but so plainly there. The world seemed to narrow until it was just him and you in that dim classroom, the air thick with everything you weren’t saying. You felt a flush rise in your cheeks and didn’t know if it was from joy, fear, or the dizzying combination of both.

“Sylus…” you whispered, his name slipping out before you could stop yourself. The familiarity of using just his first name hung between them. You weren't even sure why you said it – perhaps to confirm that this was real, that this was him speaking and not a beautiful daydream conjured by your hopeful mind.

At the sound of his name on your lips, something in Sylus broke subtly – his carefully maintained distance wavered. His hand inched forward just a little more, fingertips almost, almost brushing the back of your hand. He caught himself at the last second and withdrew slightly, curling his fingers into a loose fist instead.

“This…,” he said, so softly it was almost a breath. The single syllable carried a world of meaning. He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

You both knew what he meant: this connection, this delicate, dangerous tension humming between you. Acknowledging it was risky, but in that stolen moment neither of you looked away.

Your lips parted, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. You could scarcely believe this was happening – that the longing you'd harbored might not be one-sided. He feels it too… The realization lit you up from the inside. It also terrified you. He is the one person you aren't supposed to want, and the only person you desperately did.

Outside in the hallway, a locker slammed shut, jolting you back to reality. The distant chatter of students reminded you both of where you were – teacher and student, standing on the edge of a line that, once crossed, could change everything.

Sylus drew back slightly, straightening. A shadow of regret passed over his face as the spell between you broke, but the tenderness remained. He lowered his voice, though there was no one else to hear: “You should head home,” he said gently. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded, realizing suddenly how close you had leaned in toward him. You hadn’t even noticed your own body swaying nearer, drawn like a moth to a flame. Flushing, you stepped back, clutching your notebook to anchor yourself. “Right. Of course.”

He walked you to the classroom door, a careful distance between you now. Your mind was still reeling at what had just passed between you—subtle and yet undeniable. At the threshold, you turned back to face him. The corridor behind you was nearly empty now, just a straggler or two heading for the exits. In here, in the golden half-light, Sylus stood with one hand braced on the doorframe, looking down at you with an expression you could only describe as conflicted longing.

“Thank you for answering my questions,” you said softly. It felt like an inadequate thing to say after everything, but it was all your overwhelmed mind could supply.

A faint smile touched his lips. “Anytime,” he replied. “You know you can always come to me if you need help.” There was a quiet emphasis on those last words, as if they held layers of meaning. His dark eyes flickered with the warmth of an unspoken promise before he masked it with a polite smile.

You clutched your books to your chest a little tighter. “I… I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Your voice wavered, and you couldn’t help the small smile that slipped through, hope and anxiety warring in your chest.

Sylus nodded, but just as you were about to turn, he spoke again, voice low and earnest. “Wait.”

You paused, heart leaping into your throat. “Yes?”

For a moment he hesitated, as though walking right up to the edge of that line again. His gaze held yours, steady and searching. Say something, part of you pleaded silently. Admit you feel it too.

“I—” He stopped himself, then tried again, his words measured. “I just want you to be careful.”

Your brow knit in confusion. Was he scolding you? Warning you about staying late at school? Or was there a deeper meaning? “…Careful?” You echoed softly.

Sylus’ jaw tensed, and he let out a slow breath. His next words came out barely above a whisper, meant only for you: “This is uncharted territory. If we’re not careful, someone could get hurt.”

It was both a caution and a confession. He was acknowledging that something was indeed happening between you, even as he tried to protect you both from it. The weight of his words—and the vulnerability in them—hung in the air.

You felt a sting of emotion in your chest, a mix of reassurance and ache. Reassurance that you hadn’t imagined everything; ache that he was already pulling back into propriety. “I understand,” you whispered, your throat tight. “We’ll be careful.”

Silence settled again. His hand still rested on the doorframe, just above your head now. The way he loomed there was not threatening at all—in fact, you felt shielded, cocooned in the alcove of the doorway with him so close. His gaze traced over your face as if committing it to memory.

Then Sylus inclined his head in a slight nod. The corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile, more an expression of gentle resolve. “Good night,” he said softly at last. There was a slight hesitation, as if he’d been about to say more.

You caught that tiny falter—had he almost said your name? The thought sent a warmth fluttering in your stomach.

“Good night, Professor Sylus,” You replied, equally soft. Your fingers lingered on the door for a second, unwilling to break the last bit of eye contact between you. His eyes looked almost black in the dim light, and they were filled with so many things you wished you could decipher.

Finally, you forced yourself to step out into the hall. The spell had to be broken for now. With every stride down the corridor, your body felt lighter and more heated all at once, as if you were walking on air while adrenaline thrummed in your veins.

Before turning the corner, you glanced back one last time. Sylus was still there in the doorway, watching you go. The golden light behind him cast him in silhouette, but you could see the outline of his broad shoulders, the slight tilt of his head. You wondered what he was thinking in that inscrutable moment.

Hidden in the shadows, Sylus allowed himself a single, forbidden indulgence: he smiled – just a faint curve of his lips – as he watched you disappear around the corner. The empty hallway echoed with the fading sound of your footsteps. He let his head rest back against the doorframe and closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling a breath he felt he’d been holding all day.

What are you doing, Sylus? he chastised himself silently, even as that ghost of a smile lingered. His heart was still thudding in his chest. He knew this was dangerous ground – more dangerous than anything he’d ever felt. But the way you had looked at him, the way your voice trembled with hope… it made him feel alive in a way he’d nearly forgotten.

He would have to keep his distance, he told himself firmly—for both their sakes. Yet as he switched off the lights and darkness fell over the empty classroom, Sylus realized he was already counting the hours until he would see you again.

[chatterbox-73]

Smut book 2024.

After hours.

Tenya Iida x fem!Reader.

This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: this is a request and I honestly love it… I’m a total sucker for Iida… I hope I did it justice.😅

@123344myah

Also I’ve changed the name of a certain phone app because firstly I kinda don’t think they’d have SC in the mha universe, secondly don’t think I should be using TM names and finally why the heck not…😁 Pictalk = SC. (I know real creative..😂)

Picture is edited by me… it’s been sitting in my gallery for some time, waiting for the right chance to be used. (Original unedited manga panel from ‘tada no renai nanka de kikkonai’)

Summary: you sneak into Iida’s dorm room for some after hours funny and getting caught is the last thing on your mind.

Word count: 4.1k

CW: NSFW and adult content, oral (f!Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, rough sex, missionary and doggy, teasing, pet names, pleasure dom!Iida, spanking, slight degradation and swearing. (All characters are aged up)

You sat at the small floor table in the middle of your boyfriend’s dorm room, you watched intently as the man sitting across from you wrote large and seemingly unending paragraphs, while your own workbook remanded bare. The man looked up from his page to you with a curious look, “is something the matter?” He asked looking down at your book noticing it’s emptiness, while focused on your book you leant over and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips, “I just need to do that, I couldn’t focus until I got a taste” you smiled and licked your lips, the man looked at you with shock before sitting back and resting on his palm, “you know I’ll need payback now” Iida spoke as he look at you lips that had your lipstick smeared over them.

Tenya iida was such a reliable and caring boyfriend, he always took such good care of you and expected nothing in return, however he has always been quite prideful and this has resulted in him frequently trying to get even, it doesn’t matter how small the incident, he’s incredibly petty but you honestly love it about him, though you probably wouldn’t say it. Tenya often gets quite embarrassed by affection and will almost always shy away from it, but in small moments the man will soothe and comfort you.

You’re broken from your thoughts as you feel Iida’s callus thumb rub over your bottom lip, he wiped away the smudged lipstick before holding your chin and leaning in, however just before your lips had a chance to touch Iida’s dorm room door open suddenly, you both jumped away from each other and looked to the door, “now I’m certain there’s a ‘open door’ rule for when you’re studying with girls…” aizawa sighed as he looked at Iida with a tired expression. “Yes, I now remember that rule being mentioned, once or twice” Iida looked to you and all you could do was snicker, “yep, sounds about right” you cough out as you begin gathering your books and stationary from the table, you stood and quickly left the room with all your belongings, as you exited the room you heard Aizawa tell Iida it was lights out, before you could run off however the teacher stopped you, “straight to your dorm room… and no coming back here, study is over it’s lights out” he closed Iida’s door and turned to look at you, you nod “I haven’t had a chance to bathe, can I do that before I go to sleep?” You asked and the man sighs, it didn’t take a fortune teller to guess what you’d try and do, but Aizawa figured he should give you the benefit of the doubt, he should trust you, “fine… you can bathe, but no funny business… not tonight” he huffed and walked away muttering something about an argument between Midoriya and Bakugo.

You got back into your dorm room and packed away all your books and stationary before grabbing your bath bag, night clothes and towel, before making the trip to the bathroom. Getting into the bathroom you pulled out your phone and placed it on the side of the bathtub while you turned on the water waiting for the tub to fill, as you waited you undressed and began scrubbing your body at one of the washing stations, as you finished the bath water was full and you settled in.

You leaned your head back with your eyes closed for quite sometime before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it, watching random videos before a Pictalk notification popped in the top corner of your screen, clicking it a picture of a dark room with the caption that read

‘how much trouble did you get in?’

You smiled and snapped a picture of the steamy bathroom mirror and captioned it with.

‘None really… just a “don’t come back here, study is over >:(“‘

You chuckled and pulled yourself out of the water, sitting on the edge of the tub still allowing your legs to soak, another notification popped up and you clicked into it. It was of Iida’s neatly made bed.

‘Haha… you’re only bathing now?’

You smiled and shook your head, before taking a picture of your bare legs resting in the water.

‘Yeah, someone kept me busy with studying’

You watched the speech bubble in the messages pop up before disappearing and reappearing several times before finally you received a picture response, this picture was of Iida pulling a playful frown.

‘Are you trying to start something?’

You laughed at his expression before stepping out of the bath and emptying the water, as the bath drained you walked over to the mirror and wiped away a little of the steam, only leaving enough to cover below your hips, you stood in front of the mirror and covered a hand over your breasts before smiling and taking a picture, you send the picture with the caption.

‘start something? But I’m a good girl’

You waited patiently for Iida’s response while you dried yourself, then came in the next picture, Iida had also sent a picture of him standing in his mirror shirtless and one hand resting over his clothes crotch. The picture was captioned.

‘You’re testing my patience baby’

You smiled and wondered how far you could take this before one of you got impatient, though the way things are going anyone else would think Iida was moments away from giving in but that just wasn’t the case and the both of you knew it, you wipe down the rest of the mirror before sitting back on the ground and open your legs, you rubbed two fingers over your entrance before sliding them in, you took a picture of yourself through the mirror, with your best ‘O’ face and the caption.

‘So warm and wet…’

You waited and as you did your fingers worked in and out of you before moving to rubbed your clit, moaning you almost didn’t hear your phone chime, opening the picture you blushed and chuckled as you saw Iida’s long and thick member on the screen, he only have two fingers wrapped around the base, this time no caption was with the picture. However a voice note was sent moments later.

“I bet that pussy is nice and ready, you always are”

You heard the chuckle and groan in his voice and you knew exactly what he was doing while sending that voice note, you sent back a voice note.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”

Iida knew exactly what you were asking but instead all you got back was nothing, no voice note, no picture, not even a message, you scrambled to get dressed in your night clothes and grabbed your belongings. You walk down to the laundry room and put your clothes and towel in the washing machine, and left your bath bag next to the machine you were using, after this you wasted no time going to Iida’s dorm room.

You opened the door and walked in, the room was dark and as you looked towards Iida’s bed you noticed he was laying back with his blanket over him, he was fully dress in his goofy pyjamas, he looked as though he wasn’t just sending you dirty messages, “Tenya… Tenya you need to be awake” you whispered and walked over to him, you knew he wasn’t asleep, you had seen him sleep plenty of times so you knew he was awake, “Tenya sit up and take care of me” you whined as you grabbed at his pyjama top, the man chuckled as he sat up and looked down at you, “you’re such a greedy girl… we were told lights out and yet you’re here because of a picture” Iida sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess it can’t be helped… strip for me please” he smiled and you stood and moved to take off your shirt before stopping and looking to your boyfriend, “what about you?” You asked and Iida frowned “I said strip” he snapped and you quickly began removing your shirt, Iida nodded and looked at your breasts before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he motioned for you to step closer to him, so he could grab your arms and pressed them into your sides, your face became flushed as Iida trailed his tongue up your stomach to your sternum, he stopped and placed a kiss on your skin before moving to lick over your right nipping, you whined and pressed your legs together, before the man moved onto your other nipping this time suckling on it, “you’re sucking it like a baby” you breathlessly chuckled, Iida looked up at you with a hard stare before biting roughly on the side of your breast, you yelped and your boyfriend pulled you down slightly to capture your lips in an open mouth kiss, you gasped and cried out in surprise as Iida tongue took control over your mouth, the way he’s slurp and wriggle his tongue reminded you of all the times he’d eat you out.

Pulling away from you and loosing his grip, allowing his hand to slide down your arms and rest on your hips before he slowly pulled down your pants, leaving you in nothing but the pink girlish panties you’d normally never let Tenya see. “Aww how cute” he laughed as he kissed just above your waistband, “it’s not funny, I didn’t think when I grabbed them” you whined and felt Iida move you onto his bed to lay down on your back, “I think they’re cute… they’re so innocent and sweet” he smiled as he leaned in and whispered in your ear “reminds me of our first time… you were such a good girl, so patient” his voice was hushed and relaxed as he slowly pulled your panties to the side before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss over your entrance, “how badly do you want it greedy girl?” Iida asked, his hot breath brushing over your cunt, you whined and wiggled your hips “so badly… I need it” you moaned softly, trying to keep your voice down.

You cried out as you felt your boyfriend’s tongue lick slow strips up the length of your cunt, “more… Tenya, I need more…” you whimpered encouraging your boyfriend, Iida was a beast the way he’d devour you, you were certain given the chance Iida would eat you anywhere and anytime, he’d always put his all into eating you, he’d lick; suck and slurp, Iida was a shameless man when it came to having you on his tongue, he’d say the most vile and lewd things you’d ever heard from him, it was honestly pornography the things he’d come out with; and this time was no different.

“You taste like heaven… if men knew just how sweet you tasted, they’d be on their knees praying to you” he groaned as he licked between your folds, before wriggling his tongue inside you, “I’d lick your cunt raw if only you’d let me… I’d eat you every minute of the day and only take breaks to fuck you” he moaned into you before kissing up to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and suckling on it for dear life, you cried out loudly completely foregetting where you were, “tenya I’m… I’m…” you arched you back and wrapped your legs around Iida’s head as you grabbed roughly at his neatly groomed hair, “…oh god… yes tenya… yes…” you whimpered as your body seized up and you began coming undone on your boyfriend’s mouth, he groaned and moved back your entrance, sliding his tongue back into you as his fingers began rubbing quickly over your clit, “holy fuck… ten… oh tenya” you gasped as you started to and push Iida away, however he only continued. You took a sharp breath in, then took another and another, before suddenly losing the ability to breath, it took Iida only a few seconds to realise what was happening behind he moved up to you and brushed your hair from your face, “breath baby, breath out” he encouraged as his thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, you breathed out quickly before sucking in a deep breath, while Iida continued encouraging you.

Once fully calm your boyfriend chuckled and settled himself between your legs, “that was scary… you wanna continue?” He asked as he leant back down ready to pick up where he left off, “I wanna… but not like that… I wanna have you inside me” you hummed as you pulled off your underwear and opened your legs as wide as you could, “I want it all inside, to the base Tenya” you used your fingers to spread your folds apart as your laid back and waited for your boyfriend. Iida watched your cunt intensely as it squeezed around nothing, before he pulled off his shirt and pulled his throbbing cock from his pants, shifting the fabric down only enough for him to hang comfortably, the man pumped himself slowly and reached into his bedside table for a condom before rolling down his shaft and spitting on himself rubbing his saliva over his shaft, he than leant down and spat a large ball of saliva over your entrance, “hmmm… nice and wet… you’ll take it all in one now” he hummed as he prodded at your hole with his tip, pushing his saliva in and out, getting his tip wet.

Iida watched your cunt grip him tightly as he began to slowly slide in, once his cock was fully hilted inside you, you both moaned and Iida pressed his forehead against yours, “god fucking damn it… it feels good” he huffed out a string of cusses and rubbed your hips with his thumb as he waited for you to encourage him to move.

Iida had always been a giver, though he disguised it as petty payback… which it partly was… however with that being said Iida was always safe, he never acted reckless or overdid it, though this time was different.

Your hands grabbed Iida’s thick biceps as he gave you long and hard thrusts that caused the bed to thump into the wall, “Christ… you’re perfect” he moaned and grabbed a hold of your legs, he looked down at where the two of you met and smiled, watching the way your walls and opening clung to him so tightly, creating a delicious drag however because of this it was almost too hard for him to set an even pace, “please… more… I need it harder” you moaned as you dug your nails into he’s shoulders, Iida chuckled and began a strong pace. The man groaned and moaned as he held you down while he pushed into you a little bit harder and faster with every thrust, he’d moaned out obscenities while you simply took in the view, you’d finished several times already on his cock and looking down you could see a white ring form around the base of Iida’s cock, “Tenya… Tenya wait” you whine and place a hand on his chest to push him back, “what’s the matter? Is it starting to hurt? Should we stop?” He asked as he pulled out and grabbed the side of your cheek, you shook your head and leaned up “I’m fine, but I know you’ve been holding out for so long… so I want you to enjoy yourself a little” you hummed as you turn over and push your ass up into the air while pressing your face and chest into Iida’s mattress. Iida moved in and began looking over your wet folds, he rubbed his thumb over your cunt before using it to open you up for himself, “baby I’m always happy just giving you whatever you need, but this…” he groaned as he rubbed his tip over your clit, “you really want me to take what I need?” He questioned and you moaned, nodding your head and looking back at him, “I’m beyond satisfied, now I need to feel you cum” you whined as you reached back and grabbed a hold of the condom cover your boyfriend, before you began pulling it off him, the man moaned only to then quickly thrust into you once you pulled the condom completely off and discarded it on the floor, you grasped as Iida set into a brutal pace faster and harder then before, roughly holding your hips to stop your for jolting forward into the headboard, he’d roll his hips every so often and tried to get as deep as your body would allow him.

“I’m gonna cum so deep in you… I’m gonna use you up so no one else will want you” iida moaned as he threw his head back and grabbed at your ass cheeks, harshly smacking them every so often, “you dirty whore… you want that, don’t you?” Another harsh smack followed this and you responded with nothing but a whine. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, all that comes out of you is a jumble of words followed by moaning and whining, you were enjoying this, enjoying this more than maybe you should’ve been, “you’re squeezing so tightly…” Iida hummed as he further picked up his pace, he let out a laugh as he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his thrusts, you could feel him twitching and pulsing with each thrust, “you sure you want it inside… cause if you don’t… I… I won’t” he moaned grinding his hips into you, “yes… god yes… inside please… Tenya please!” You cried loud before quickly having your face shoved into Iida’s pillows, “baby I love hearing your voice but shut the fuck up” he groaned as he held your head in place, while continuing his vicious assault on your cunt. Iida’s breaths become uneven and he lets go of your head and move his hand back to your ass, he grabbed at the flesh and watched as he began long quick, yet uneven thrusts. “Fuck baby, fuck…” he huffed as his hip’s faulted and snapped in towards you, you felt him shutter, soon an indescribable warmth filled your belly, your legs shook and your cunt squeezed uncontrollably, causing Iida to pulled out and begin fingering you, working you through your final orgasm of the night. “Shit… shit baby…” Iida sighed as he sat back on his bed, you crawled over to him weakly and climbed into his lap, “we fucked up… I shouldn’t have let you take it off… I should’ve kept the condom on” he huffed as he rested his head back against the wall, “it’s okay, I’m on the pill” you smiled however Iida did not return that smile, “it doesn’t matter… it was still so reckless of me… to allow you to seduce me into such dangerous play…” he hummed and hugged into you and pressed his face into your neck, “you make me a truly weak man” he sighed and began kissing your neck, “let’s not risk doing it raw again, I’m not a strong enough man for that just yet” he moaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, here was the overly serious and proper boyfriend you fell head over heels in love with, “we could always go one more round, I don’t feel full enough yet” you joked and felt Iida bite your neck before sitting up and frowning at you, “okay, I’ll stop… though it was nice” you hum and quickly stand up, walking into the toilet in the room, “I need a washcloth tenya” you call and heard the man stand from the bed before walking into the toilet with a wet washcloth, “do you need help darling?” Iida passed you the cloth and you nodded as you took it, “yeah it’s pretty deep in, I can’t possibly reach it” you said with a wide smirk, Iida sighed and knelt down “alright I’ll help you”.

_

You sat in class as All Might finished up giving his feedback on today class, he finally ended his little lecture and dismissed the class but before anyone could stand and leave for the dormitory Aizawa stopped everyone as if he had been waiting outside the classroom door just for All Might to finish, “Bakugo, Midoriya, Iida and L/n, all of you are to stay back” he spoke before letting everybody else leave, All might gave Midoriya a nervous look before leaving himself. All four of you sat facing Aizawa as he sat down on the stool that had been moved into the classroom after he’d lost his leg, “now Bakugo and Midoriya, you both know fighting at school outside of training is prohibited and to fight in the dormitory is next level irresponsible, both of you will have two weeks of after class detention… now get out of my site” he grumbled and both boy stood, beginning to leave, however Midoriya stop near Iida and in a not so quiet whisper “I’ll wait for you out in the hallway” he smiled and Aizawa quickly piped in, “absolutely not… get back to the dormitory” he scolded and this made Midoriya scramble out the door, closing it behind him.

“Now you two, you know why I have you here… don’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms and looked between the both of you, Iida swallowed as you tried your hardest to keep a straight face. “I have some ideas” your eyes shifted to the side and you smiled nervously, “very funny L/n, but maybe next time you decide to give Iida a past curfew visit make sure I’ve actually finished my rounds…” his frown deepened and you could feel your face go red, “it was quite a surprise to be finished up then suddenly heard a woman’s cries though the boy’s half of the dormitory” Aizawa looked towards Iida and from the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend struggling to make eye contact with the teacher, “and then all the banging of what I presume was your bed frame… but hey maybe I’m wrong and you were decorating, and you were just cheering on all his hard work” Aizawa’s face still held a straightness despite his very obvious frustration, “look, you can’t be doing that kind of stuff so freely and openly, if the wrong person heard that or even if someone was able to get a picture or video of you two… because you know how driven some of your classmates are…” Aizawa sighed and uncrossed his arms “if something like that happened to get out to the media, it’d ruin your careers before they have a chance to actually begin…” Aizawa spoke so calmly it was unnerving, he then looked at you and continued on “L/n the public wouldn’t see you as some sweet little sister anymore, you’d be seen as some whore who seduced an honest and just man…” his expression softened and you looked down in shame before he moved onto Iida, “and Iida, the public would start saying your a weak willed man, if you’re lucky… or they’d treat you like a monster for defiling a precious young woman” he said and leant back in his chair with a sigh, Aizawa pinched is nose bridge “you both need to be more careful, I’m not saying you can’t do that you’re both adults and will be out of here in a few months, but you need to think about your image, so no doing that here and no going to love hotels, doing it at one of your homes where your privacy is respected… and you’ll be having two weeks of detention with Midoriya and Bakugo” he grumbled and stood ready to leave, “get out of here, now” he said as he pointed to the door, both you and Iida speedily left the room as you both exited you had Aizawa muttered under his breath questioning how he hadn’t gone grey yet.

“I think it was worth it…” you said walking along side Iida and after a moment of silence the man chuckled, “yeah it was, I’m disappointed in us… but it definitely was worth it” he added and shook his head in amusement, “worth it enough to do it again” you smiled and grabbed Iida’s hand, “its tempting, but no… I’m pissed about the idea of all those guys hearing you” he said and brought the back of your hand up to his lips kissing it before the both of you walked back to your dorm laughing about everything.

[yeostinys]

Cry For Me (Trilogy)

Final part

Pairing: DomCEO!Hongjoong x SubSecretary!Reader

Genre: Smut 18+, Angst, light fluff

Notes: Dacryphilia (y/n is a major cry baby), mentions of cheating (don’t do it yall, this is just fiction), Unprotected sex (please wrap it up, don’t do this irl), creampie, oral sex, masturbation, explicit language, slight violence (not from Hongjoong). blindfold sex. slight impregnation kink.

Word Count: 13k

Authors note: This is pure horny imagination and in NO WAY, reflects on the characters in real life! If you do not like this type of content pls ignore or block me.

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

————————————————————————

After that heated night with Hongjoong, a shift settled over the office. The anticipation of the upcoming Exhibition cast a palpable tension in the air, and both of you were swept up in a whirlwind of preparations. Your inbox was inundated with questions and requests, each email demanding your immediate attention. In addition to your regular duties, you found yourself tasked with organizing final report meetings for each department—a crucial step for Hongjoong to review and approve before the big day.

Yet, as busy as you were, you couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him. Hongjoong’s workload was heavier than ever; he was frequently out of the office, darting between the Exhibition building and press conferences. You had grown so accustomed to his presence, both at work and outside of it, that the silence of his absence felt almost deafening. You tried to keep your focus, shoving aside the longing that threatened to distract you as you worked diligently to meet your deadlines.

“Hello, Miss Y/N,” a cheerful voice broke through your thoughts. You looked up to find Haeun standing there, her smile bright and two steaming coffee cups in her hands.

“Hello, Miss Lee,” you replied, returning her smile but feeling a hint of unease bubble beneath the surface.

“Is Mr. Kim in his office? I had a few questions for him and I also got him coffee,” she asked, glancing hopefully toward Hongjoong’s office door.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. “No, he’s not in right now. He’s at the Exhibition building preparing for tomorrow,” you said, your tone calm despite the annoyance simmering within.

Haeun’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she cast her gaze downward, disappointment etched on her features. “Ahh, I see—”

“Whatever your message is, I can go ahead and relay it to him,” you offered, attempting to sound genuinely helpful while hoping she wouldn’t catch the edge of sarcasm that laced your words.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just wait for him,” she replied, her voice soft as she bowed her head slightly before turning to walk away.

You bit your lip, feeling a flicker of irritation. As you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, a question nagged at you: why was Haeun so intent on seeking out Hongjoong? It wasn’t just professionalism that kept her lingering around his office. Most of your colleagues would have passed their messages through you without a second thought, but Haeun seemed to circumvent the usual channels, consistently finding excuses to approach him directly.

With a sigh, you returned to your screen, determined to push aside the thoughts that threatened to derail your concentration. Yet the unease lingered, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind as you dived back into your work, longing for the familiar rhythm of your days with Hongjoong by your side.

Hours stretched on, the clock ticking slowly as you counted down to your much-anticipated hour break. The office felt almost suffocating without Hongjoong's presence; he still hadn’t returned from his seemingly endless meetings. As the minutes dragged, an urge tugged at you—just to hear his voice again.

You pulled out your phone and navigated to his contact, your fingers hovering over the call button for a moment before you pressed it. The line rang for a while, until finally—

“Hey there, Pretty,” Hongjoong’s tender voice flooded your ear, warm and familiar. Your heart swelled at the sound, a rush of affection washing over you.

“Hey,” you replied softly, a smile spreading across your face as you settled back in your chair, feeling the tension begin to melt away.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

“Mm, yeah,” you assured him, fiddling with the pen in your hand. “Just miss you. I’m on my hour break right now.”

“I miss you too, baby,” he sighed, the weariness in his voice unmistakable. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Exhibition opening ceremony. I still have to meet up with another investor, so I probably won’t make it back to the office today.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his stress. “It’s okay, just go straight home afterwards and rest,” you said softly, wanting to ease his burden even just a little.

“Yeah, I will. And you, please don’t stay too late at the office,” he replied, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he could sense your tendency to push yourself too hard.

“Okay,” you promised, feeling a flicker of warmth at his concern.

“I have to go now, Pretty. I’ll talk to you later,” Hongjoong said, his voice lingering in your mind like a sweet melody.

“Talk to you later,” you echoed, and the line ended.

———

As you step into your apartment, the weight of the past week begins to lift. You kick off your heels, feeling the cool floor beneath your bare feet, and make your way to the sanctuary of your bed.

Returning to your apartment each night has become a solitary routine, yet it’s a routine you find comfort in. You’re not lonely; you’re content. Hongjoong’s passion for his work radiates through his messages, reminding you that even amidst the flurry, you are always on his mind.

The familiar ping of your phone draws your attention. A message from Hongjoong lights up the screen:

Joongie <3: Just finished my last meeting. I’ll let you know I’m home

A smile unfurls across your face as you read his words. You feel a warmth inside, a flicker of excitement at the thought of spending time together. You slip out of your clothes, your nightly routine a practiced dance, and soon you’re refreshed and relaxed.

Once your skin feels cool from the shower, you wander into the kitchen, ready to prepare a quick snack. The soft glow of the overhead lights envelops you in a tranquil ambiance as you settle onto the couch with a book, letting the words draw you into their world. Suddenly, a sharp breaks the silence.

You turn your head, curiosity piquing your interest. Who could possibly be visiting at this hour? A smile creeps back onto your lips as you hope it might be Hongjoong. Rising from the couch, you smooth down your shirt and tousle your hair, preparing for the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But when you open the door, your heart sinks.

“S—Siwoo? What are you doing here?” The question escapes your lips, laced with confusion and a sudden spike of adrenaline. It’s been over a month since you last saw him, and the disheveled state he’s in sends a jolt of apprehension through you.

“Can I come in?” His tone is casual, but you sense an underlying tension.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you reply softly, instinctively stepping back behind the door. You’ve barely finished your sentence when Siwoo’s hand slams against the wood, startling you.

“Are you messing around with your boss?” The accusation hangs in the air like a storm cloud, and your heart plummets at the words. His eyes are wild, red-rimmed, and filled with something that feels dangerously close to madness.

“What does it matter to you?” you retort, trying to maintain your composure.

“That’s quite dirty of you,” he laughs bitterly, the sound scraping against your nerves.

“Is that why you fucken left me?” Your voice trembles, yet you refuse to back down.

“You need to leave,” you insist, crossing your arms in a futile gesture of defiance.

Siwoo steps closer, and you freeze, his presence invading your space.

“Want to know how I found out?” He leans in, his voice low and threatening. “someone saw you two making out in the meeting room…”

You recoil at his words, feeling the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest. “Are you fucken stalking me?” Your voice raises in disgust,

“You’re a whore, Y/N,” he spits out, slamming his fist against the door. You flinch at the sound, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“You say that as if you didn’t cheat on me,” you shoot back, your glare fierce even as you fight to keep your emotions in check.

“Get over yourself, Y/N,” he snaps.

“I hope you’re happy with him.” His voice drips with sarcasm as he turns to leave.

“I am,” you declare defiantly, the words escaping before you can think.

But he spins around, anger igniting in his gaze. You quickly shut the door, locking it just as his fist meets the wood again, the sound reverberating through your chest.

“No one makes you happier than me, Y/N!” he bellows, and panic floods your senses.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you crouch down, the adrenaline leaving you shaken. Silence wraps around you like a blanket after his final strike against the door. You pull your knees to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

In that moment, you reach for your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you find Hongjoong’s name. Hesitation grips you; it’s late, and you don’t want to disturb him, he’s already feeling so much stress lately. Instead, you let the silence envelop you, the shadows of your apartment pressing in, leaving you in a swirling storm of emotions.

———

The morning sun filtered through your curtains, but the clock on your bedside table betrayed the time—it was far later than you had intended to wake. Panic gripped you as you bolted upright, the remnants of sleep quickly fading into a rush of urgency. The Exhibition building loomed in your mind like an impending deadline, one you could not afford to miss.

You scrambled through your morning routine, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate bid to shake off the remnants of a restless night. Your encounter with Siwoo haunted you, the unsettling conversation replaying endlessly in your thoughts, keeping sleep at bay.

Finally dressed—you rushed to hail a taxi, your heart racing as you gave the driver your destination. Your phone buzzed with notifications, and you glanced at the screen to see several missed messages from Hongjoong, each one amplifying your anxiety. “Where are you?” “Are you okay?” The words blurred together as frustration boiled inside you. You cursed under your breath, willing the taxi to speed through the congested streets. Quickly, you typed a reply: “Stuck in traffic. I’ll be there soon.”

When the taxi finally screeched to a halt in front of the Exhibition building, you practically leaped out, grateful that the opening ceremony hadn’t started yet. You dashed inside, weaving through the crowd, your heart pounding with each hurried step. As you entered the lobby, the buzz of voices surrounded you—colleagues mingling, laughter echoing off the high ceilings.

There he was—Hongjoong—standing with a group of organizers. The sight of him anchored you momentarily, but the weight of your anxiety still loomed large. When your eyes met, relief washed over his features, and he approached you with an unmistakable sense of concern.

“Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice warm yet edged with worry. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you replied, bowing slightly, the formality a brief shield against your inner turmoil. He excused himself from the conversation, pulling you aside as a flicker of worry crossed his face.

“Are you okay? You never run late. Did something happen?” His voice dropped to a quiet tone, the intimacy of his concern making your heart race.

You looked down, trying to gather your thoughts. “Yeah,” you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and the traffic was terrible.” Each word felt like a confession, a release of the stress you’d been holding. “Is there anything I can do to help? I know we open soon.”

He shook his head, a gentle smile breaking through his concern. “No, it’s okay. Haeun and a few others are finishing the last display room.”

At the mention of Haeun, a sharp pang of unease shot through you, tightening your chest. You nodded, forcing a smile that felt strained. “Right. Of course.” The name lingered in your mind like a shadow, darkening the moment.

“I have to go,” he said, his hand lingering on your arm for a brief moment, grounding you. “I’ll see you at the front for the opening.” With that, he turned away, his smile still radiating warmth, leaving you caught between the chaos of the day and the storm brewing inside you.

You cleared your throat, the sound echoing slightly in the hallway as you steeled yourself for the bustling atmosphere of the conference room ahead. Taking a deep breath, you straightened your blouse and smoothed down your skirt, determined to shake off the disquiet that had plagued you since last night.

As you entered the conference room, a wave of energy washed over you. Colleagues filled the space, their voices mingling in a lively buzz as they prepared for the opening ceremony. You found your designated seat, a small island of calm amid the excitement, and pulled out the itinerary, hoping to distract yourself from the racing thoughts that refused to settle.

The ceremony began, and all eyes turned to Hongjoong as he stepped up to the podium. With a charismatic presence that filled the room, he launched into his speech, effortlessly commanding attention. You couldn’t help but smile softly as he spoke, his confidence radiating and infectious. The presentation unfolded smoothly, and he introduced the highly anticipated theme for the exhibition, capturing the audience’s enthusiasm.

As the crowd erupted into applause, you felt a swell of pride for the event's success. The doors of the exhibition swung open, welcoming an influx of important figures, investors, and eager members of the public. Your role quickly shifted as you focused on ensuring that each department followed protocol and adhered to the schedule.

Glancing across the room, you spotted Hongjoong surrounded by higher-ups and colleagues, all congratulating him with hearty handshakes and praise. Your gaze fell on Haeun, her smile radiant as she bowed gracefully to those around her. But then, the moment took an unexpected turn. Instead of exchanging congratulatory handshakes, Haeun leaned in, her movements light and unassuming, and hugged Hongjoong.

The sight struck you like a punch to the gut. Hongjoong’s expression shifted from surprise to a vague awkwardness as he tapped her shoulder, clearly caught off guard by her gesture. A rush of irritation flooded through you, twisting into jealousy that simmered just below the surface. Why did she feel so comfortable with him?

“Miss Y/N, we need assistance with this,” a fellow colleague called, pulling you from your thoughts. You forced a smile, though it felt brittle, and nodded, following them away from the unfolding scene.

As you walked away, you glanced back at Hongjoong, who was searching the crowd for you. His gaze landed on you just as you turned to leave, and you could see the faint sigh of disappointment escape him. The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken tension, before he was pulled back into conversations with important figures, the excitement of the event overshadowing the moment between you.

The rest of the day unfolded in a whirlwind of activity. The exhibition was a resounding success, with a full house exceeding even the most optimistic expectations for the opening day. Everywhere you looked, faces were illuminated with excitement, laughter echoing through the halls. Yet amidst the hustle and bustle, you hardly saw Hongjoong. He was swept up in conversations with important figures, while you navigated your own responsibilities, making sure everything ran smoothly.

Inside, you could sense Hongjoong’s exhaustion; the constant social interactions wore him down, and you could almost feel his desire to retreat from the crowd and share a moment of solitude with you. But the overwhelming buzz of the event kept you apart, and despite your best efforts to push away thoughts of Siwoo and Haeun, they lingered in the back of your mind like dark clouds, threatening to overshadow the day’s success.

As the final guests trickled out of the building, you offered heartfelt bows of gratitude to those who attended, your voice a blend of professionalism and warmth. The security guard swiftly locked the front doors, signaling the day’s end. Team members began closing up the exhibition, readying it for another day of activity. A sigh of relief escaped you as you turned to head back to the conference room to gather your things.

You moved slowly, fatigue settling into your bones. Just as you were about to leave, you looked up and saw Hongjoong standing before you, a soft smile breaking through the weariness of the day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm.

“Hi,” you replied, your smile tinged with exhaustion.

“Let me gather my stuff; let’s go home together,” he whispered, taking your hand gently in his. You nodded, feeling a small rush of comfort as you watched him turn to collect his belongings.

The walk to his car was filled with an unspoken tension that felt more tiresome than awkward. Hongjoong tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel, the soft music playing in the background providing a gentle soundtrack to your quiet. The world outside blurred by, the streets illuminated by the fading light of day.

“I didn’t get to say congratulations earlier…” you finally broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper. Hongjoong turned to meet your gaze, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Congratulations, Hongjoong. Everything turned out beautiful,” you said, allowing a small smile to surface.

His expression shifted to one of awe, and he smiled back softly. “Thank you, baby.” His voice was tender as he reached across the console to grasp your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your skin. The warmth of his touch wrapped around you, anchoring you in the moment.

The car ride continued in a peaceful silence, his hand never leaving yours, a silent promise hanging in the air between you.

When you arrived at your apartment, Hongjoong parked on the curb and turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of warmth and affection. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Do you…” You looked up at him with your doe eyes, “I mean… can you stay for a while?” The words slipped out, tinged with vulnerability, feeling an ache in your heart, your voice quivering slightly.

Hongjoong’s expression softened at your request. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, his voice a whisper as he cupped your cheek and leaned in for another kiss—this one lingering, a sweet connection that sent warmth flooding through you.

He maneuvered the car into a proper parking spot, and together you walked hand in hand up to your apartment complex, the silence between you comfortable.

As you stepped into your apartment, Hongjoong followed you to your bedroom.

Approaching your closet, you pulled out a few of Hongjoong's spare clothes—soft T-shirts and sweatpants that carried his scent. You handed them to him, a small gesture that felt significant. Both of you changed in comfortable silence, the weight of the day beginning to lift as you slipped into something more relaxed.

Once changed, you settled onto the bed, the mattress cradling your tired body. Instinctively, you curled into Hongjoong’s arms, seeking solace in his presence. His warmth wrapped around you, and you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. You sighed deeply, relief flooding through you, though your exhaustion was overshadowed by a restless mind.

“Hongjoong…” you began softly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of his T-shirt. He hummed in response, an encouraging sound that urged you to continue. “Do you… like Haeun?” The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken insecurities.

Hongjoong chuckled lightly, caught off guard by your unexpected inquiry. He shifted to look at you, propping himself up on one elbow, allowing your head to settle on the pillow instead of his chest.

“What kind of question is that, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was concern in his eyes as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You averted your gaze, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “I saw her hug you…” you mumbled, staring at your fingers as they twisted together anxiously. “And… you’ve been asking for her assistance a lot.” The words felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable.

“Y/N, look at me,” Hongjoong urged gently, his hand caressing your cheek. Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. The seriousness in his expression made your heart flutter with both fear and hope.

“I do not like Haeun,” he declared firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t go seeking her out; she inserts herself into things. That hug? It was unexpected, and I didn’t know she was going to do that.” He took a deep breath, his tone softening. “I’ll have her manager talk to her about professionalism. You know that the only assistance I want is from you.”

At his words, your heart swelled, but tears threatened to spill over. “Hey… what’s going on? Talk to me, baby,” he cooed, concern etched across his features as he reached up to wipe away your tears.

“I just…” you choked on your words, feeling the emotions surge. “I’m sorry for being a crybaby about this. I know today was important, and I feel like I’m ruining it by bringing this up,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he reassured you, his tone steady. “Thank you for telling me how you feel. I promise I’ll make sure her manager puts her in check. And don’t you worry—because you are the only one I care about.” He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, the gesture soothing your racing heart.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he whispered softly as he pulled you back into his chest, cradling you against him. In that moment, wrapped in his warmth and sincerity, you felt a sense of peace settle over you, the earlier worries fading into the background.

———

As the days unfolded seamlessly, the exhibition remained a vibrant spectacle for the public. The buzz of visitors filled the air, their excited chatter blending with the soft hum of conversations among staff. Back in the office, life resumed its familiar cadence, the usual rhythm of daily tasks bringing a sense of normalcy. Colleagues flowed in and out, each taking turns to ensure the exhibition’s smooth operation, their laughter and discussions punctuating the usual office sounds.

Hongjoong, too, had become a near-permanent fixture at the exhibition, his presence almost a comfort. He appeared only in the mornings, a fleeting glimpse before he vanished into the vibrant chaos of the displays and the throngs of visitors.

After your conversation with him that night, a weight had lifted from your shoulders. Although the incident with Siwoo lingered at the back of your mind, you felt a sense of guilt that you hadn’t shared the details with Hongjoong. Siwoo had yet to pose any real threat, and you didn’t want to burden Hongjoong with worries that might lead to unnecessary complications.

Pulling away from your thoughts, you decided to take a break momentarily. You glance at your phone and see a message from Hongjoong.

Joongie <3: An investor wants to meet over dinner tonight at 6pm to discuss potential future plans after this exhibition. I need you there.

Joongie <3: And I’ll finally get to see that pretty face of yours.

You smile at the messages

Y/N: I’ll be there. I’ll meet you at the exhibition.

You shut off your phone and rise from your seat. You made your way to the coffee break room, looking forward to a moment of respite. As you made your way to the open door, you caught a snippet of conversation that made you pause. The unmistakable voice of Lee Haeun floated through the air.

“My fucken manager just lectured me about professionalism,” Lee Haeun said, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “All because I hugged the CEO at the exhibition opening ceremony.”

You froze, instinctively pressing your back against the wall just outside the coffee break room. Haeun was on her cellphone, speaking quietly, but the stillness of the office allowed you to catch every word.

“No, honestly! I was just congratulating him,” she continued, a conspiratorial giggle escaping her lips. “How can I get promoted unless I show some affection? If you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Haeun’s tone was playful yet calculating, and you felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you leaned in closer, unable to tear yourself away from her words.

“I don’t care if I always do that,” she scoffed. “I already slept with the prof to get the best grades, and look where it got me. I don’t even have my degree yet! I just need the CEO now”

A wave of anxiety washed over you, but your feet felt rooted to the ground. You wanted to walk away, to distance yourself from this unsettling conversation, yet something compelled you to stay and listen.

“Anyways, the CEO is playing hard to get. Although I think it’s because he’s probably fucking his secretary,” she added, laughter lacing her voice. Your heart sank.

“No, seriously, I saw them making out. And you’ll never guess who she is…”

“Professor Siwoo’s now ex-girlfriend,” Haeun whispered, her voice tinged with glee. “Right?! What a coincidence that I keep fucking her men to excel in my career.”

A chill ran down your spine. Haeun was the one who Siwoo cheated on you with. Haeun was the one who had told Siwoo about your relationship with Hongjoong. Now, it seemed she had set her sights on Hongjoong, all in pursuit of her ambitions. The realization hit you like a physical blow.

“Well, no, I haven’t fucked the CEO yet, but I think I’m close,” she chuckled, and the sound felt like ice water pooling in your veins. Your face drained of color as you processed what you had just overheard. She was scheming, manipulating those around her to climb the corporate ladder.

You felt sick, the implications of her words swirling in your mind. Without thinking, you turned and hurried back to your desk, your heart racing. You tried to maintain your composure, but the chaos inside you made it difficult. As you fidgeted with the papers on your desk, you fought to push the dark thoughts aside, the weight of Haeun’s intentions pressing heavily on your chest.

You need to tell Hongjoong. You have to, but the thought of how to approach him twists in your stomach like a knot. Haeun, with her seemingly flawless skills on the marketing team, has gained his appreciation, but beneath her polished exterior lies a darker reality. Her intentions are anything but innocent; she’s been causing trouble that ripples through the entire company. A wave of anger washes over you, surging in your chest like a tide. You can't let her get away with this.

Hours drag on as you throw yourself into your work, fingers flying over the keyboard as you finish files and set future schedules. Yet your mind is preoccupied, a cacophony of thoughts swirling around how to confront Hongjoong. You glance at the clock, you have to meet Hongjoong soon at the exhibition before heading out to the dinner. In doing so, you began gathering your things, and with each movement you can’t help but recall Haeun’s saccharine demeanor, the anger within you bubbles up anew.

Then, as if summoned by your thoughts, Haeun appears. She strides toward your desk, her confidence radiating like a spotlight, but instead of acknowledging you, she breezes past and heads directly for Hongjoong’s office. A flicker of irritation shoots through you.

She knocks on the door, her voice dripping with that infuriatingly sweet tone. “Mr. Kim?” When there’s no response, she knocks again, the sound echoing in the quiet office.

You can’t help but scoff under your breath. “Mr. Kim isn’t in his office today, Miss Lee,” you call out, leaning slightly forward in your chair. She turns to you, her smile a veneer of sweetness that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, haha, sorry! I just wanted to check for myself,” she replies, scrunching her nose in faux innocence.

“Whatever you need to tell him, I can relay the message,” you say, attempting to maintain an air of politeness despite your simmering irritation.

“Why do you always say that?” Haeun scoffs, laughing as if you’ve told her the world’s most absurd joke. You raise an eyebrow, amused at her audacity.

“If you’ve forgotten, Miss Lee, I am his secretary. It’s my job to handle these things,” you reply, keeping your tone calm.

“Right,” she says, sarcasm lacing her words. That’s it. You can’t hold back any longer. You push your chair back and stand up, meeting her gaze with a glare.

“Miss Lee, I suggest you work on your professionalism in this office. Don’t forget that I am your superior,” you state firmly, the weight of your position fueling your confidence. She rolls her eyes and turns to walk away, but your frustration spills over.

“On top of that—” you call after her. Haeun turns back, her expression unimpressed.

“I heard everything you said in the coffee room,” you declare, the words tumbling out before you can second-guess them. Her eyes widen, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.

“You’re talking about professionalism when you’re over here eavesdropping?!” she fires back, cutting you off.

“It’s not eavesdropping if you’re speaking loudly enough for the whole floor to hear,” you retort, kind of exaggerating but you don’t care as your irritation is sharpening.

“Miss Lee, if you don’t want to get fired, I suggest you get your act together and reconsider how you present yourself in this office. Trying to sleep with Mr. Kim isn’t going to work,” you say, crossing your arms defiantly.

Her laughter is chilling. “Why? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you? I bet that’s the reason why Siwoo kept coming to me for sex instead of you” She smirks and shoots you a dirty look that only fuels your resolve.

“Unlike you, I don’t sleep around with higher-ups to get what I want. I have self-respect. I worked hard to get where I am today, and it’s obvious you didn’t. Siwoo is a piece of trash that you just happened to fall into. I atleast got out.” You step forward, every word a declaration of your integrity. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner meeting to attend with Mr. Kim,” you say, brushing past her with a confidence that comes from standing your ground. The click of your heels on the floor echoes your anger, a sound of determination as you walk away from the confrontation, knowing you’ve said what needed to be said.

———

You hailed a taxi, the yellow vehicle pulling to a stop at the curb, its engine rumbling softly as you climbed inside. The city outside blurred by, a rush of color and sound that contrasted sharply with the turmoil churning within you. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, a boiling pot you struggled to contain as the driver navigated the bustling streets toward the exhibition building.

As the taxi came to a halt, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your face like a splash of cold water. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, breathing deeply, but the tension remained, coiling tightly in your chest.

Your eyes caught sight of Hongjoong standing outside the building, his charismatic presence commanding attention. He was engaged in conversation, shaking hands with several people who wore suits that screamed success. They laughed, shared pleasantries, and after a few moments, they dispersed, leaving him alone. As if sensing your gaze, he turned, a smirk spreading across his face, and for a brief second, it felt as though the world had slowed down. Yet, despite his warm demeanor, you couldn’t muster a smile in return. The weight of your emotions hung heavy, clouding your thoughts. With a deep breath, you approached him, determined to put on a brave face.

“Hey, baby~” he greeted, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist, his eyes sweeping over you with that familiar mix of affection and mischief.

“Hey,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.

His expression shifted, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. “Nothing… I’ll tell you later.” You sighed, your hand finding the back of his neck, a gesture meant to comfort both him and yourself.

“You sure?” he asked, his eyebrow arching in skepticism. You nodded, forcing a semblance of reassurance.

“Let’s go.” you say softly.

Together, you made your way to his car, the sleek vehicle reflecting the evening lights. As you settled into the passenger seat, silence enveloped you both. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of your stomach. You resolved to keep your thoughts to yourself for now, planning to wait until the meeting concluded.

The drive felt like an eternity. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur together as they passed. Finally, you arrived at the restaurant, its exterior exuding elegance. You both stepped inside, the atmosphere rich with the scent of gourmet dishes and the soft hum of polite conversation.

You took a seat beside Hongjoong, pulling out your notes, your mind shifting into professional mode. The investors began to arrive, and as they entered, you stood to shake hands, your professional mask firmly in place. The meeting commenced, and the conversation flowed around you—discussions filled with jargon, high-end meals, and clinking champagne flutes.

For the next hour, you sat mostly silent, your focus razor-sharp yet scattered. While others spoke and laughed, you found yourself distracted, your thoughts drifting back to the emotions you had tried so hard to suppress. All you could think about was the moment this meeting would end, and you could finally share what was weighing on your heart with Hongjoong.

As the last few guests trickled out of the restaurant, their laughter fading into the night, Hongjoong effortlessly settled the tab, his movements smooth and confident. You took a long, satisfying gulp of the champagne, the bubbles tickling your throat, and let out a deep sigh that spoke of both relief and frustration.

Hongjoong caught the sound, his gaze sharpening as he tucked his black card back into his wallet, his expression shifting to one of concern. “You ready?” he asked, his voice low and intent, eyes searching yours for an answer. You nodded, but it felt like a half-hearted response, so you took another swig of your drink to mask the turmoil inside you.

“Waiter, can I get a bottle of this champagne to go, please?” Hongjoong called, waving down a server with a charming smile. “Just put it on the same card I used.” The server nodded and made his way to the bar, leaving you puzzled.

“Why are you getting another bottle?” You frowned, confusion knitting your brows together.

Hongjoong leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “Something is clearly stressing you. We can head back to my place, relax, and talk it over with some champagne.” His hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent a wave of comfort through you, even as the heaviness in your chest lingered.

Moments later, the server returned, the expensive bottle glinting under the soft restaurant lights. He bowed slightly as he handed it over, and Hongjoong’s smile widened, a flicker of delight breaking through your own tension. He took the bottle and intertwined his fingers with yours, anchoring you in the moment.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos in your mind. You rose from your seat, the weight of the evening still heavy but beginning to shift as you followed him, hand in hand.

———

Hongjoong guided you to his spacious living room, the atmosphere cozy and inviting. Warm lamps cast a soft glow that enveloped you both as he set the champagne bottle down on the polished coffee table. The room smelled faintly of citrus and leather, remnants of his day lingering in the air. With a brief nod, he disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses and a bottle opener, his movements fluid and confident.

You sank into the plush, oversized couch, your legs propped comfortably to the side. Pulling the soft throw blanket that rested nearby over your shoulders, you settled in, seeking warmth and comfort. You watched as Hongjoong effortlessly twisted the bottle cap, the satisfying pop echoing in the quiet room. He poured the golden liquid into the glasses, his focused demeanor drawing your eyes to the way his shirt hugged his frame, emphasizing his handsome features.

He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. With a knowing smile, he clinked your glasses together, the sound crisp and celebratory, before both of you took a sip. The bubbles danced on your tongue, but the sweetness of the moment was overshadowed by the weight on your heart. Hongjoong leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

“So, what’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” he asked, his tone gentle yet probing. He had removed his blazer before entering, leaving him in a fitted button-up shirt and a tie that accentuated his confident demeanor. You blinked a few times, absorbing the sight of him, momentarily lost in his charm.

Finally, with a deep sigh, you set your glass down on the table, the clink resonating in the stillness.

“Hongjoong…” You shifted closer, your heart racing as you caught his gaze, the intensity in his eyes reflecting your own turmoil. He placed his glass on the table as well, sensing the seriousness of what you were about to share.

“A few weeks ago… Siwoo came unannounced to my place…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“What?” Hongjoong’s response was sharp, filled with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Feeling a surge of anxiety, you took his hands in yours and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Hongjoong, please let me explain,” you urged softly, feeling his unwavering gaze upon you.

He remained silent, his expression a mixture of worry and frustration as you continued. “He showed up at my door, but I didn’t let him in. He came to tell me that… he knows about us.”

Hongjoong’s brows furrowed deeply as you pressed on. “He was angry, ranting about why I left him, but I didn’t engage in his tantrum; I just said what I needed to and closed the door.” You stared down at your lap, feeling the shame of the past wash over you.

“Did he try to hurt you?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the softness contrasting with the simmering anger in his eyes.

“No… he banged on the door a few times, but it didn’t last long,” you admitted, fearing his reaction. But the anger only intensified in his gaze as he shifted in his seat. He’s upset at himself that he wasn’t there to protect you. To comfort you after the unwanted encounter.

“Joong, please,” you said, gripping his arm. “How did he even find out?” Hongjoong asks

The concern on his face deepened as he waited, a storm of emotions brewing inside him. “Haeun… She told him. I overheard her talking on the phone today saying she saw us making out.” you hesitated, the lump in your throat tightening. “And not only that…She’s been trying to get close to you, potentially to sleep with you, in hopes of getting a promotion.” A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. Hongjoong’s eyes widened in shock, his face twisting in disgust.

“I’ll fire her,” he said without hesitation, the conviction in his voice surprising you. You hadn’t expected him to respond so decisively.

He cupped your face, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “And… she also admitted to me that she was the one Siwoo cheated on me with.” Your heart sank further as you met his gaze, the realization heavy between you.

“Siwoo is her professor at the university,” you continued, your voice calm yet hollow. “She recognized me the moment she started working here.��� Tears streamed down your face, even as you fought to maintain your composure.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, his fury palpable. He pulled you closer, your foreheads touching, creating an intimate bubble despite the turmoil surrounding you. “I will deal with them,” he whispered, his voice a fierce promise, igniting a spark of hope amidst the storm. He pulled you into his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective cocoon. His fingers gently stroked your hair, each soothing motion designed to calm the storm inside you. “I’m sorry you felt the need to keep this bottled up,” he whispered, his voice low and tender. “But, Y/N, seriously, next time, you need to tell me these things right away.” There was a soft frustration in his tone, directed not at you, but at the stress that Siwoo and Haeun had inflicted upon you.

You let out a soft whimper, sniffing away the remnants of your tears. “Okay,” you murmured, feeling the weight of his words settle in your heart.

“I hate seeing other people make you cry,” he continued, his voice taking on a darker tone, filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling guilt creep in, despite knowing deep down it wasn’t your fault.

“No,” he said firmly, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet grounding. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart flutter and your worries feel momentarily distant.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his gaze searching yours, looking for reassurance in your glossy eyes. You nodded slowly, the connection between you solidifying with that simple gesture.

He deepened the kiss, pouring his warmth and understanding into the moment, before pulling you into another embrace. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this sanctuary of comfort.

“Stay the night,” he suggested softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Let’s shower and relax. You need it.”

You nodded again, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, allowing him to lead you upstairs.

———

You strip your clothes and step into the large warm shower room. Hongjoong follows behind you. The steaming water envelops you two, sighing as you allow yourself to relax. You both silently wash each other’s bodies and hair carefully. The only sound that can be heard is the water streaming and tapping on the tile floors. The quietness is comforting and much needed. You feel Hongjoong’s arm wrap behind you. His strong arm over your chest as he pulls you to his embrace. You both slowly rock underneath the water hitting your backs. His face nuzzles into your neck. Leaving soft kisses. You tilt your head allowing him more access to your soft wet skin.

“Y/N” Hongjoong softly mumbles against your neck.

“Yes?” You reply quietly taking in the sensation of his touch.

“I love you.” Hongjoong plants another kiss your neck once more before turning you around to face him. Your heart swells at his confession. You look at him in awe,

“I have always loved you.” Hongjoong whispers cupping your face.

“I love you Hongjoong” You whimper, pulling him into a deep kiss. Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. Your lips move together in sync, tongues brushing against each other, your noses bumping together.

You feel Hongjoong grow harder as you two continue the heated kiss. You pant as his hands move together your waist, pulling you closer to his waist.

His lips are back to your neck, leaving a trail as he moves further down to your breasts. You moan at his warm tongue lapping over your nipples. He kisses the top of your breast briefly before softly biting it. He sucks your soft skin intentionally leaving a red mark.

“H—hongjoong” You moan throwing your head back. He pulls away and admires his marking on your skin. He smirks and leans down to kiss you. You moves your body slowly, your back softly lands against the cold tile walls. He slowly drops to his knees.

“Only you make me feel like this Y/N” Hongjoong softly says and hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder. He caresses your ass and brings your hips forward. He leaves a wet trail of kisses in your inner thighs. You whimper at the sensitive feeling. Hongjoong sticks out his tongue and strips it along your clit, earning a breathy moan from you. He tastes your wet juices and groans against your skin.

“Fuck” you moan as Hongjoong begins lapping his warm tongue over and over your entrance. His nose brushes against your clit stimulating you more.

Hongjoong devours your pussy harder as he enjoys your constant moans. His other arm hooks under your other leg bringing it to his shoulder. He lifts you effortlessly off the ground, against the wet tile wall. He holds onto your hips gripping onto your skin as he continues eating you out. Your hands instinctively grasp onto his hair for support. You’re a moaning mess as you move against his mouth.

Hongjoong groans and pulls your legs off. He’s back onto his feet and lifts you once again. You wrap your arms around his neck as he inserts his dick inside your pussy. You both moan loudly. He fucks you agaisnt the wall in a slow pace.

“God baby, you feel so fucken good” Hongjoong moans, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Want to feel you all the fucken time” He continues, kissing your neck in desperation.

“Me too Joong” you moan, “I want to be with you all the time” You whine holding him closer.

“Fuckk” He curses and picks up his pace. The grip on your waist tightens, making sure you won’t fall.

You cup Hongjoong’s face and bring his lips to yours. You brush your tongue over his lips and he moans, opening his mouth. You share a heated, wet messy kiss as he continues pumping into you. The once quiet shower, is now filled with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other and heartfelt moans and breathy loving praises.

Hongjoong’s strokes become slow but deep, hitting your g spot at a perfect high. Your can’t help but tear up at the overwhelming pleasure, your tears fall flawlessly.

“So fucken pretty when you cry for me baby” Hongjoong moans and kisses your tears over and over. His wet lips peppering your teary face as he continues fucking you deeper. You moan loudly at his loving gesture making you whimper more as you feel your orgasm nearing.

“I’m going to cum Joong~” you whimper against his lips. “Me too baby” Hongjoong moans picking up his pace. You hold onto him tighter, wrapping your legs securely around his waist.

“C—cum inside me please Joongie?” you whine.

“Fuuck baby.” Hongjoong throws his head back, “Want me to fill your pussy?” He groans.

“Y—yess. I want it all p-please” You’re a whimpering mess as his pace becomes sloppy.

“Fuck okay baby. Joongie will cum inside your right pussy” He grunts, resting his forehead against yours as he looks into your glossy teary eyes,

“P-promise?” you whimper with a pout. Hongjoong feels his cock twitch as he looks at your cute fucked out expression.

“Fuuuck fuck, yes baby I promise” Hongjoong releases a load moan and continues his pace.

“I’m cumming” Hongjoong groans, and you hold onto him tightly, Your orgasm takes over you as you come together with him. You shake on his dick as you feel his hot warm cum shoot inside of you. You are both a panting mess. He stays inside of you for a while as you both take time to come down from your high.

Hongjoong slowly helps you back onto your feet as he slips out of you. His load drips out of your wet pussy in an instant and Hongjoong chuckles

“Fuck, that’s so hot” He groans and brings his fingers to collect his cum and shove it back inside you. You moan at the feeling and grab onto his shoulders.

“Joong~” you whine and he smirks.

“Such a fucken good girl baby” He kisses your lips. “Let’s wash up again” You both quietly giggle in each other’s embrace as you both take time cleaning one another.

Exiting the warm cascade of the shower, the steam curling around you like a gentle embrace, Hongjoong steps forward, his gaze softening as he wraps a towel around you. The fabric is plush against your skin, and you can’t help but giggle at his attentive care. He lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest, and you instinctively hold onto him, feeling secure in his arms.

With a playful grin, he tosses you onto the bed, the soft sheets inviting against your damp skin. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your waist, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, igniting a warmth that spreads through you.

“I’ll get you some clothes,” he says, winking as he strides toward his expansive walk-in closet, the door swinging open to reveal an array of garments. You watch him rummage through the selection, his movements confident and relaxed.

When he returns, he’s in a pair of baggy gray sweats that hang low on his hips. In his hand, he holds an oversized shirt. He helps you slip into it, the shirt engulfing you in its cozy embrace. You can’t help but smile at how effortlessly he tends to you.

Once settled, he lays down beside you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. You instinctively curl up against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a state of comfort. A contented sigh escapes your lips as you nestle closer, feeling the safety of his presence enveloping you.

“I love you, Hongjoong,” you whisper softly, the words flowing from your heart with sincerity.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replies, his voice a gentle caress. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, his arms tightening around you, pulling you even closer.

As the world outside fades away, a comforting silence settles around you, and together, you drift into a deep slumber, hearts intertwined in a peaceful embrace.

———

Email:

Miss Lee,

Please report to my office as soon as possible.

Haeun glanced at Hongjoong’s email, a smirk curling at the corners of her lips. Finally, the moment she had been waiting for had arrived: an opportunity for some alone time with him. With a purposeful stride, she made her way to Hongjoong’s office, only to notice that you were absent from your desk. She let out a derisive scoff, a wicked smile spreading across her face.

Interesting, she mused, Hongjoong wants to meet with me when Y/N isn’t around? It’s clear he’s been waiting for this. The thrill of her thoughts sent a rush of satisfaction through her as she approached the office door, knocking sharply.

“Come in,” Hongjoong’s calm voice echoed from within. Haeun twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, revealing Hongjoong seated on his desk, arms crossed, a piercing gaze fixed on her.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. You wanted to see me?” Haeun purred, striding towards him with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

“Please, sit. I have something important to discuss with you,” Hongjoong replied, his tone suddenly taking on a more serious edge. Haeun’s bravado faltered slightly at his stern demeanor, but she quickly recovered, settling into the chair with a deliberate poise.

“Sir, is everything alright?” she asked, her voice laced with faux sweetness.

“Miss Lee, do you have anything to tell me?” His glare was unyielding, and Haeun felt a flicker of unease.

“No, sir…” she replied, feigning innocence.

“Think again, Miss Lee.” He rose from his seat, moving around to sit on the edge of his desk. Haeun’s mind raced. Is he trying to initiate something? She rose from her chair, taking deliberate steps towards him, leaning in close.

“Mr. Kim, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bad girl” Haeun pouts. “Maybe you can teach me a lesson?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning closer.

Hongjoong recoiled, shoving her hands away with a look of disgust.

“Miss Lee, you’ve just proven that you’re unfit for this job or any job, for that matter.” He crossed his arms, his expression hardening.

“What?” Haeun’s confusion morphed into frustration, but a scoff escaped Hongjoong's lips as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote. With a click, the office TV screen flickered to life, revealing a recording.

Haeun’s heart dropped as she saw herself in the coffee break room, casually taking a phone call. Her own voice echoed through the office, each word hammering into her with a heavy weight.

“I already slept with the prof to get the best grades, and look where it got me. I don’t even have my degree yet! I just need the CEO now.”

The screen continued to replay her words, her bravado on full display. “Right?! What a coincidence that I keep fucking her men to excel in my career.”

“Well, no, I haven’t fucked the CEO yet, but I think I’m close,”

The color drained from Haeun's face as the realization hit her. Hongjoong paused the tape, letting the silence hang in the air like a noose.

“Miss Lee—” he began.

“I can explain!” she interjected, desperation creeping into her voice.

“There’s no need for an explanation,” he said unbothered. “I’ve spoken with your university and they talked to Professor Park Siwoo. You two weren’t as discreet as you thought.” Haeun’s eyes brimmed with tears, fear and anger intertwining within her.

“If you fire me, I’ll tell the press about your relationship with Y/N!” she threatened, her voice shaking. Hongjoong smirked in amusement,

“Your first mistake was disrespecting the woman I love. Now you think you can threaten me?” Hongjoong’s scoff echoed in the large office. “Go ahead, tell the press. We make a great couple, and we’re both well-loved by everyone. Nothing will happen.” His demeanor was unfazed, almost bored. And that infuriated Haeun.

“Lee Haeun, you’re fired. Pack your things and leave your employee badge on the way out,” he said firmly.

“Mr. K-Kim, please—” Haeun pleaded again, panic rising in her chest.

“LEAVE NOW!” Hongjoong shouted, pointing decisively at the door.

Hurt and humiliation surged through her. Haeun’s chest puffed with indignation as tears streamed down her face. With a defiant rip, she tore the employee badge from her neck and stormed out of his office, the echo of the door slamming behind her.

Hongjoong let out a deep sigh, a mix of relief and irritation swirling within him as he settled back into his desk chair. He had promised you that he would take care of Haeun and Siwoo, and he had followed through on that promise. This morning, he had insisted you take the day off—more like he had firmly nudged you out of the office for your own safety. He knew the moment he reported Siwoo’s inappropriate behavior to the university, the man would come hunting for you, either at your apartment or at work. So, as a precaution, he had whisked you away to his home, a sanctuary away from the chaos.

Now, you were indulging in the warmth of his jacuzzi, the steam rising around you like a gentle embrace as you binge-watched your favorite shows. The serene atmosphere was a welcome escape until the tranquility was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Glancing at the screen, your heart fluttered when you saw Hongjoong’s name.

“Hi Joong,” you greeted softly, a smile blooming on your face.

“Hey baby, how you feeling?” His warm voice wrapped around you, sending a comforting shiver down your spine.

“I’m okay,” you replied, the softness in your tone matching the coziness of your surroundings.

“That’s good…” Hongjoong paused, and you could sense the weight of the world behind his words. “I talked to the university. They fired Siwoo.”

“Oh…” You were taken aback by the speed of his actions. It was reassuring and impressive, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“So, I think it’s best if you stay at my house for a few days. Siwoo is probably going to try to hunt you down,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Joong…” you said, feeling a swell of gratitude. “And… what about Haeun?” You hesitated, the name lingering on your lips.

“Fired,” he stated simply. The relief that washed over you was palpable, a soothing balm to the tension that had built up in your chest.

“Thank you so much, Hongjoong,” you sighed, the weight lifting from your shoulders.

“I’d do anything to protect you, baby,” he replied, a promise nestled in his words. “I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you answered, warmth flooding your heart as the call ended.

You leaned back into the bubbling water, feeling as if a hundred burdens had been lifted from your shoulders. Each breath you took felt lighter, filled with gratitude for Hongjoong’s unwavering support. He had stood up for you, proving time and again how deeply he cared. This only deepened your affection for him, igniting a desire to be the best version of yourself. You wanted to show him just how much he meant to you, how much you appreciated everything he did. In this moment, you were reminded that love wasn’t just about grand gestures; it was about the quiet, steadfast presence that made everything feel safe.

———

A month had slipped by since Hongjoong confronted Siwoo and Haeun, and in that time, your life had transformed in ways you had only dared to dream. Happiness enveloped you like a warm blanket; the office, once a place of tension and unease, had returned to its familiar rhythm. Yet, there was a significant change that stirred beneath the surface—Hongjoong had made the bold decision to announce your relationship to the entire company.

At first, the thought of being so publicly exposed filled you with trepidation. The fear of judgment and gossip loomed large in your mind. But Hongjoong, with his unwavering confidence, had reassured you. “Everything is going to be okay,” he’d said, his eyes steady and sincere. And as always, he was right.

When the news broke, the initial shock soon gave way to a wave of excitement among your colleagues. The reactions were overwhelmingly positive. People whispered excitedly in the break room, their faces lighting up with joy. Some had even confided that they had hoped for this moment, having observed the undeniable chemistry between you and Hongjoong. “We always knew you two were meant to be!” one coworker exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Others chimed in, reminiscing about moments they’d witnessed that hinted at your connection—the way Hongjoong would always find a reason to check in on youz It became clear that your relationship was not only accepted but celebrated. Your colleagues appreciated the way you both balanced your professional responsibilities with the tenderness of your partnership. It made the atmosphere in the office lighter, more enjoyable, and ultimately strengthened the bonds among the team.

As you settled back into the daily grind, you couldn’t help but notice the difference in the dynamics at work. Your coworkers seemed more relaxed, their laughter echoing through the halls as they reveled in the joy of your romance. You felt a renewed sense of belonging, and it was all thanks to Hongjoong’s courage to stand by your side.

In meetings, there was a new energy, a camaraderie that had blossomed from your relationship. Everyone seemed more engaged, and the collaborative spirit was palpable. You and Hongjoong often exchanged knowing glances across the conference table, little sparks of affection that did not go unnoticed. It was as if your love had breathed new life into the workplace, creating an environment where everyone felt a little more connected.

Every day, as you walked into the office, you felt grateful for the second chance at happiness you had found with Hongjoong. His steadfast support and the way he embraced your relationship with such pride made you appreciate him even more. Together, you were not just colleagues but partners in every sense of the word, navigating the complexities of both work and love hand in hand. It was a beautiful balance, one that made you look forward to each new day with excitement and hope.

———

“Hey, let’s go out tonight after your shift,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning casually over your monitor. His warm smile lit up the dim office, and you felt your heart flutter in response.

“Where to?” you asked, curiosity dancing in your voice.

“Just for a drink at a pub,” he replied, that charming grin never wavering.

“Okay,” you said, a smile spreading across your face as you felt the anticipation of the evening ahead.

As the clock struck the end of your shift, you found yourself stepping into the bustling pub, its lively atmosphere a sharp contrast to the quiet confines of the office. You and Hongjoong made your way to the bar, where you settled onto the cushioned stools. After placing your orders—something refreshing for you and a darker brew for him—Hongjoong insisted on getting some appetizers to share.

“So what’s the occasion?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink, the coolness invigorating.

“Does there need to be an occasion to take my girlfriend out?” he replied, arching an eyebrow playfully.

“Well, no…” you admitted, a soft blush creeping to your cheeks as you met his gaze. His laughter was like music to your ears, filling the space between you with warmth.

“I know we’ve both been busy lately. I just wanted us to finally take some time for ourselves,” Hongjoong said, leaning closer. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Plus, I’ve been craving this pub’s appetizers.”

You both shared a laugh, the ease of the moment enveloping you. The night unfolded with heartfelt conversations and playful banter, the outside world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other. Hongjoong's hand rested comfortably on your thigh, a subtle but electrifying reminder of his presence as he looked at you with admiration.

“I’ll be back. I need to use the bathroom,” he said, rising from his seat. Before he turned away, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “When I get back, let’s go home so I can take care of you.”

Your heart raced at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as you nodded, caught off guard yet undeniably thrilled by the promise behind his statement. As he walked away, you took a moment to collect yourself, the ambiance of the pub buzzing around you while you savored the anticipation of what was to come.

“Y/N?” The familiar voice sliced through the ambient noise of the pub, and your heart dropped like a stone. You turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomach.

“S-Siwoo…” you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you.

He leaned against the bar table, a mocking grin plastered across his face. “I knew it was you.” Without a hint of hesitation, he snatched the drink from your hand and downed it in one swift motion. “You know, ever since you left me, I haven’t been the same,” he said, feigning a hurt tone.

“Siwoo, you need to leave,” you said firmly, your heart racing.

“Oh, did you finally grow some confidence?” he chuckled, his gaze piercing as he studied you. “You used to be so easy to push around until you started hanging out with that snobby CEO of yours.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing a fry from your plate and crunching it between his teeth. “Where’s that person who got me fired, anyway?”

You turned away, trying to ignore him. Engaging with Siwoo would only escalate the situation. “Aww, don’t tell me he stood you up?” Siwoo leaned closer, his voice dripping with insincerity. “Let me take you home and remind you of what you’re missing.” His smirk made your skin crawl.

Just then, you felt a strong arm drape over your shoulders, pulling you into a protective embrace.

“She’s already coming home with me,” Hongjoong said coolly, his voice unwavering. The intensity of the moment made your heart race even faster. “And I doubt she’s missing anything from you.” A confident smirk graced his lips.

“Ahh~ there you are, the CEO she’s been with,” Siwoo sneered, standing up to face Hongjoong. “And the reason I got fired…”

“Hongjoong, let’s go…” you said softly, sensing the tension rising. You could feel Hongjoong’s cool demeanor, but you knew how volatile Siwoo could be. He nodded, helping you out of your chair with a deliberate calm.

“Awh, come on! You’re leaving already?!” Siwoo shouted, his voice rising above the chatter of the pub as you and Hongjoong passed him. Hongjoong’s arm remained protectively around you, guiding you away.

“You’re a whore, Y/N!” Siwoo called after you, causing several heads to turn. The weight of his words hung in the air, and Hongjoong’s eyes blazed with rage. He turned to you, cupping your face with a mix of concern and intensity before quickly redirecting his focus back to Siwoo.

In a swift motion, Hongjoong stepped toward Siwoo, grabbing him by the collar. Gasps echoed throughout the pub, and your stomach twisted with fear at the prospect of a fight breaking out.

Hongjoong tightened his grip, his voice low and menacing. “You better stay in your fucken lane. I already got you fired from your job. Now imagine what worse I can do.”

Siwoo scoffed, trying to play it off. “Is that a threat?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Siwoo. I can end you.” Hongjoong’s smirk was chilling.

Siwoo rolled his eyes and shoved Hongjoong’s arms off him, but Hongjoong didn’t budge. “You think you’re all big and mighty because you’ve got money?” Siwoo taunted, pushing Hongjoong again.

In that moment, you stepped closer to Hongjoong, grabbing his arm. “Joong, let’s go home,” you pleaded, desperation in your voice. He looked at you, his jaw tightening, before finally relenting.

“Yeah, listen to your bitch,” Siwoo laughed, and Hongjoong’s anger flared again, but you quickly pulled him back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Hongjoong, look at me. It’s not worth it. He’s purposely trying to provoke you. Let’s just go home, please.” Your voice was calm yet insistent.

Hongjoong took a deep breath, his expression softening as he closed his eyes to steady himself. He held your hand tightly, nodding in agreement. Leaning down, he pressed a warm, deep kiss to your lips, igniting a spark of comfort amidst the chaos. As he pulled away, he gave you a reassuring smile before wrapping his arm securely around your shoulders, leading you toward the exit.

“Fuck you, Y/N!” Siwoo shouted after you, but Hongjoong shot a glare over his shoulder, the intensity palpable as you stepped outside.

“Security, make sure that man doesn’t come back here,” Hongjoong instructed a guard at the door, his tone authoritative.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. I’ll deal with him right away,” the security guard responded, bowing slightly before making his way back inside.

You looked up at Hongjoong, confusion etched on your face. “You know that security guard?”

“The owner of this pub is my best friend,” Hongjoong said with a wink, pulling you closer. “Everyone knows me very well.” The sense of safety his presence offered enveloped you as you stepped into the cool night air, leaving the chaos of the pub behind.

———

The ride back home felt suffocatingly quiet, the tension thick enough to cut through. Hongjoong’s jaw was clenched, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. He stared straight ahead, focused on the road as if it were a lifeline, completely lost in his thoughts.

“Joong…” you ventured, breaking the silence, but he merely hummed in response, his eyes never leaving the asphalt ribbon winding before him.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper. You could feel tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, a bittersweet sting threatening to spill over.

He sighed heavily as he turned into his driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Finally, he parked the car and turned to face you, his expression softening just a fraction.

“Why would I be mad at you, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, yet a hint of concern lingered beneath the surface. He reached up, his fingers tangling lightly in your hair, caressing you with a tenderness that melted away some of the heaviness between you.

“I just hate that he disrespected you like that,” he admitted, knowing the weight of the earlier confrontation with Siwoo still pressed on your heart. Hongjoong’s hand glided down to your cheek, and you leaned into his palm, seeking comfort in his warm touch.

“Who cares about him? He’s irrelevant and pathetic,” you murmured, a fire igniting in your chest. Hongjoong chuckled softly, the sound a balm to your frayed nerves.

“You’re so right, baby,” he replied, a playful smirk creeping onto his lips. He released a deep sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. “Let me show you who you belong to.”

A teasing giggle escaped your lips as you unfastened your seatbelt. “I already know who I belong to,” you shot back, your heart racing at the promise in his words.

In an instant, you both leaped out of the car, adrenaline surging through you. Hongjoong strode toward you with purpose, his hand playfully tapping your hips. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaping into his embrace. He caught you easily, securing your waist as you instinctively wrapped your legs around him.

“Fuck, Y/N” he said, his impatience evident as he made his way toward the grand front doors of his house. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, peppering soft kisses along his neck, each one igniting the warmth in both your hearts.

Hongjoong couldn’t take the few extra steps to his bed. Instead, he dropped you onto the soft plush couch. You giggled in an instant and looked at him in awe. Hongjoong quickly shook off his coat and loosened his tie. You reached for the satin fabric and gripped on it tightly. You pulled it forward, causing Hongjoong to drop onto the couch with you. He propped himself up with his palms on the sides of your head. You pulled him closer, closing the gap between your lips.

You whimpered in the kiss as his tongue lapped against yours. Hongjoong chuckles at your boldness and instinctively begins rubbing his lower body against yours.

“I fucken love you Y/N” Hongjoong moans and moves towards your neck. You begin panting at his warm tongue brushing against your soft skin.

“God I love you Hongjoong” You moan, running your hands through his soft hair.

Hongjoong’s hands move to your thin white blouse and hastily unbuttons your shirt. In desperation, he rips off the shirt. The white buttons can be heard ripping off the fabric.

“Joong~ that was my favorite shirt!” you whine with a slight giggle at his eagerness.

“I’ll fucken buy you a hundred of those later” Hongjoong hisses and stuffs his face in your soft breasts. You moan in response and throw your head back.

Hongjoong pulls away from you and looks at you with the most lustful gaze ever. He begins unbuttoning your black slacks and pulling them off your waist. You’re left in your matching red lace bra and panties.

“You know, I fucken love that you’re always in a sexy pair of matching bra and underwear” Hongjoong praises as his hands run down your body. Taking in your whole existence. He leans down to pepper kisses along your waist and over your chest.

“Oh~ Joong-“ You moan at his intoxicating soft touch.

Hongjoong pulls away once again, and begins pulling off his tie.

“Do you trust me Y/N?” Hongjoong softly asks and he grips his tie in his hands. You nod in response. He begins bringing his tie towards your eyes.

“W—wait” you say hastily, Hongjoong instantly stops and looks at you in concern.

“I—I want to see you take off your clothes first…” you whisper, feeling embarrassed. Hongjoong chuckles and his smirk widens

“Such a dirty girl.” Hongjoong places his tie on the head of the couch.

“Help Joongie take off his clothes then” Hongjoong teases leaning back on his knees. You pout in embarrassment and begin propping yourself up. Your hands reach towards the buttons of his shirt and for some reason you struggle to unbutton it. “Come on baby~” Hongjoong chuckles at your clumsiness. Tears well up in embarrassment as you finally get the last buttons off. You push fabric off his toned arms and whimper at his sexy body. Your fingers grace over his tattoo and you instinctively kiss it. Hongjoong groans at your gesture and caresses your hair.

“Fuck, take off my pants baby” Hongjoong says as he stands up on his feet. You reach towards his belt and unbuckle it quickly. You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes in frustration and desperation to feel him. Hongjoong moans at the sight of your teary eyes. He cups your cheek and wipes your tears slowly.

“So fucken pretty” he whispers as you pull off his pants and briefs. His hard cock throbs in craving for you. Hongjoong leans down and kisses your lips as his thumbs brush your wet cheeks.

“Fuck do I really want to cover your pretty eyes?” Hongjoong chuckles as he rests his forehead on yours. You whimper in protest, to be honest you love seeing his face as he fucks you senseless.

Hongjoong pulls away and shakes his head. Releasing a sigh he grabs his tie.

“Nah, I do.” Hongjoong smirks as you pout. He brings the tie towards your face and you close your eyes in instinct. He securely ties the fabric around your face and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll take this off once your tears soak up that tie.” He whispers softly. “Understood?” Hongjoong leans towards your ear his soft breath sending shivers down your spine, “Yes, Hongjoong.” you whimper out.

“You gotta cry for me, alright baby?” Hongjoong groans as he pulls away to take in the lewd sight of you.

“Yes, Joong~” you moan as tears fall from your eyes and hit the fabric.

Hongjoong carefully pushes your body to lay on the soft cushioned couch. His hands grace over your waist and thighs. He hooks his fingers over your red lacy panties to pull them off, a wet string of your juices clings onto the fabric.

“Fuck, Y/N you’re so wet” Hongjoong moans at the sight of your perfect wet pussy.

“I don’t even need to prep you baby” Hongjoong chuckles as he inserts a finger in you. You release a loud moan, tears streaming down. Hongjoong touches himself as he begins pumping his fingers deeper into your wet cunt. The quiet living room is filled with the sounds of your wet pussy, breathy pants from Hongjoong, and quiet whines from your plump lips.

“What’s wrong baby?” Hongjoong teases, his pace getting faster.

“W—want you inside Joongie.” You cry as you reach out your hands in hope to touch his skin. Hongjoong bites his lips at the submissive state you’re in.

“Yeah? You want me inside of you?” Hongjoong moans.

“Y—yes, please” you whimper out sniffling your nose. You feel the first layer of the satin fabric getting soaked at you cry in desperation to feel Hongjoong.

“Awh~ such a crybaby” Hongjoong chuckles as he pulls his fingers out of you. He places his fingers in his mouth tasting you, and he begins pumping himself faster. He moans at his lewd action, knowing you can’t see how dirty he looks right now tasting your juices on his fingers in pleasure.

“Fuck-“ He grunts as he pops his fingers out his mouth.

Now impatient as well, Hongjoong quickly enters you. You yelp in pleasure, finally feeling him inside of you. Hongjoong moans at your warm pussy wrapping around him. He quickly reaches behind your back and skillfully unclasps your bra. He fondles your breasts and begins moving his hips deeper inside you. You’re a moaning, crying mess from the overstimulation of his hard big cock hitting your g-spot with ease.

Hongjoong bites his lip as he looks at your face. Your lips are plumped and parted as you moaned. Your cheeks flushed red in pleasure. The satin fabric that covered your eyes is soaked with your tears. He moans in desperation to see your glossy teary eyes. So in response, he leans down to kiss your lips softly before he pulls the satin tie off your face.

Your watery eyes are met with a dreamy faced Hongjoong. He clearly looks just as fucked out as you as. His strokes get deeper at the sight of your face. Your mascara began smearing lightly, as the mixture of your tears and the fabric cause the streaks down your face. Hongjoong moans loudly as he brings his hands to cup your face and wipe your tears and smeared makeup.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum already.” Hongjoong grunts as he closes his eyes, taking in the immense pleasure.

“Me too Joong~” you moan in response.

“Yeah, cum for me baby” Hongjoong’s pace becomes sloppy as more tears stream down your face.

“H—harder” you whimper, wrapping your arms and legs around his body, bringing him closer.

“Fuck Y/N~” Hongjoong thrusts harder and deeper. He feels your pussy clench over his cock, knowing you hit your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as you ride out your high. Hongjoong quickens his pace and grunts, feeling himself cumming.

“So fucken good for me” Hongjoong moans loudly as he thrusts deeply in you and releases his load inside you.

You moan at the warm feeling, holding onto him as you both calm down from the intense orgasm. Hongjoong’s face is buried in the crook of your neck as he pants. Your hands found their way to his hair as he catches his breath.

“Fuck I should just make you have my baby” Hongjoong chuckles. You gasp in response and giggle.

“Not yet Joong~” you blush at his words.

“Hm? not yet? interesting” he teases, puckering his lips to kiss your neck. You laugh at his banter as he pulls away from you. He kisses your lips deeply and caresses your face.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his breath a gentle caress against your ear.

The words sent a rush of warmth through you, causing your heart to clench with an overwhelming mix of affection and longing. “I love you, Hongjoong,” you replied, your voice filled with sincerity, each syllable weighted with emotion.

The love you felt for him was unlike anything else—something deep and indescribable. It transcended mere words, existing in the shared glances, the tender touches, and the quiet moments of understanding. You knew that Hongjoong would do anything for you, going to great lengths to ensure your happiness and protect you from harm.

In return, you would do anything for him without hesitation. You’d sacrifice everything for his joy, support him through every challenge, and stand by his side through the ups and downs of life.

You knew that you’d love him, hold him, and cry for him. Forever.

-

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Authors note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH ALL DONE! I hope you all enjoyed reading this filthy Trilogy. Lmk what was your fav part🤭 Me personally was when hongjoong was tasting your juices on his fingers while jacking off 🤷‍♀️ omg.

Anyways, thank you for all the support and patience! Please like, reblog, and comment your thoughts in my comment section or ask box. Lots of loveeee❤️❤️❤️❤️

[stemms]

I could never understand people who treat DSMP like a dead fandom or feel ashamed of still adoring this piece of media in 2024. After all, isn’t the whole point of enjoying any story to keep it in your heart for years instead of forgetting about it the moment it loses its popularity? How did classical literature or old movies/series survive and remain appreciated until today, for example? The DSMP fandom is alive because there still are people who deeply care about the characters, and it will keep on living until there’s at least one person passionate about it.

It is true that the DSMP fandom was bigger in 2020-2022, but it’s also important to remember the quality of the fanbase at the time. I remember seeing so much more harassment, especially directed towards people interested in portraying c!Prime’s canonically abusive dynamic without even exploring the aspect of /p physical affection; many people were forced to deactivate their accounts because of the insane amount of toxic reactions. There were also A Lot of people incapable of understanding that CC’s characters weren’t supposed to represent their real life personalities, which either led to certain CC’s harassment for being “horrible people” or to misinterpretation of certain characters (e.g. c!Dream, c!George, c!Sapnap, c!Quackity, or c!Sam), a huge amount of poor lore comprehension, leading to Lots of victim-blaming and abuse apologism.

Now that DSMP is over and less popular, a significant amount of people responsible for the fandom’s poor reputation is gone, and people who genuinely understand the characters and simply want to discuss and/or create content for their hyperfixation in peace, stayed. Of course, this fandom isn’t perfect or entirely free of Weird™ people, but there’s certainly less toxicity, and it’s all that matters.

The next time you feel ashamed of still enjoying DSMP, try to remind yourself of the wonderful memories, excitement, creativity boost, and friends it brought you, and focus on the fact that this story will remain alive for as long as you let it.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° make me feel like someone else

( shidou ryusei x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — part 5 in my seven petals, all poison series!! ( masterlist )

♡ word count — 1.3k

♡ content — shidou ryusei x fem! reader, lol i swear this one has a happy ending, suggestive content ( not explicit ), all characters are 18+!!, set it where shidou still plays for Paris X Gen (PXG), forbidden relationship, unrequited love, secret relationship, not proofread!

♡ synopsis — when shidou finds himself under the care of the team’s new personal trainer—you—what starts as a dangerous game of lust turns into something far more complicated. Shidou begins to question if all-consuming want can slowly turn into love—and what it means when the one thing he never believed in starts to feel real.

── .✦ feelin' your lips on my cold neck , magnetic everything about you

You're used to athletes. The rigid discipline. The sweat and soreness and endless repetition.

You're not used to him.

Not used to Shidou Ryusei.

The first time you meet, you’re crouched beside Karasu, checking the strain in his hamstring, when Shidou’s voice cuts through the gym.

“Yo, sweetheart,” he calls. “Think you could give me a little hands-on attention when you’re done with crow boy over there?”

Karasu sighs, already too used to it. “Ignore him. It’s how he says hello.”

You do. For the first week. Maybe two. But Shidou is persistent. Not in the sweet, slow-burn kind of way. He’s all jagged edges and reckless heat. He likes to flirt like he plays—aggressively, unapologetically, like there’s nothing off-limits.

But you’re his trainer. That should make you off-limits.

And yet—

It starts small. Too small to even notice at first.

A cocky smirk when you correct his form during a lift. The way he groans during stretches, a little too deliberately. “You tryna kill me, babe? Or just like having me under you like this?”

You roll your eyes, but the worst part is… your hands linger. Just a second longer than they should.

It’s supposed to be routine. You’ve worked on plenty of players before—wrapped ankles, iced shoulders, reset joints. But Shidou comes in one afternoon with a low groan and a wince that doesn’t look entirely exaggerated.

"Quad’s tight," he grunts, hopping up onto the table. "Probably from carrying the team all morning."

You raise a brow but say nothing, reaching for the massage oil and gloves. Your focus is automatic, almost detached—thumbs working along the inner thigh, then outward, across the line of tension built up from too many sprints.

“You gonna talk to me, or just keep pretending I’m a mannequin?” he mutters, voice low, half-laughing.

You don’t answer, just press deeper.

Then—

He breathes out hard. A sharp inhale, not pained. Something else.

You mean to move on. Your hand should leave his thigh.

But it doesn’t.

Not immediately.

Your fingers hover, press again—just barely. You don’t look up, but you can feel his gaze burn into you. Your thumb traces the same spot, once, twice, and then you pull back. Flustered. Disoriented.

Shidou doesn’t say anything. Not at first. But when he finally speaks, his voice is different.

Low. Almost amused. Almost reverent.

“…You feel that too, huh?”

You freeze. Your heart kicks up. And you lie.

“No. I don’t know what you mean.”

But it’s already happened.

You both know

The line is gone.

The worst part is the way he looks at you—like he knows something you don’t.

Like he sees past your professionalism and into something hungrier.

Something you’re trying to ignore.

The moment everything shifts is quiet. Stupidly so.

It’s late. The facility’s almost empty. Shidou’s the only one still around, half-sweaty from his extra reps, bruised and breathing heavy. You should go home. You tell yourself that.

“Don’t suppose I could get a massage,” he says, smirking. “Got this knot in my back that’s been killing me. Might need your magic hands, doc.”

You sigh. “Fine. Shirt off. Face down.”

You try to stay clinical. Professional. But his muscles are tense under your palms, and his breath hitches every time you press too deep. And then—

“You’re good at this,” he murmurs, voice low. “Like, really good. No wonder the team keeps you around.”

Your hands still. He lifts his head to look at you, and there’s something in his eyes—soft, curious, dangerous.

“You ever get tired of playing by the rules?”

“Shidou—”

He sits up, sudden. Inches from you.

“Say my name like that again,” he says, voice rough, “and I’m gonna forget you’re technically not allowed to fuck me.”

You should walk away.

Instead, you kiss him.

It’s fire. All-consuming. All teeth and want and months of suppressed tension snapping free. His hands are rough, desperate, dragging you into his lap. Yours grip his shoulders, nails digging in, anchoring yourself to him.

You shouldn’t. You do.

You don’t talk about it. You pretend it didn’t happen.

Until it does again. And again.

It’s always behind closed doors—your office, the locker room, his apartment. You tell yourself it’s just physical. Just lust.

But he remembers the things you say in passing. Brings you snacks when you forget to eat. Slows down during sets because he knows you’ve had a long day.

It’s not love. Not yet. But it’s not just sex anymore.

He touches you like he wants to claim something.

He kisses you like he’s starving.

And you—stupid, soft, already too far gone—you let him.

It sneaks up on Shidou.

Not during sex—never during that. It’s always too heated, too consuming. 

Lust is easy. It’s natural for him, primal and wild. 

But love? That’s foreign. Love is quiet. Love doesn’t punch you in the face.

It happens on a random Thursday.

You’re sitting beside him in the recovery lounge, hair tied up, scribbling on a clipboard. There’s an energy bar between your lips, forgotten as you focus, your brow furrowed in that way you do when you’re double-checking reps and schedules.

He watches you. Not because you’re hot. (You are. That’s a given.)

He watches because you look tired. And you’re still here. Still helping him, even after a fight the night before—words exchanged too sharp, boundaries blurred too far. You’re still here, in his space. Looking after him like he’s more than just your job.

You glance over, catch him staring.

“What?” you ask, frowning. “Did I mess something up?”

He shakes his head slowly. Something stirs in his chest—ugly and soft.

“No,” he says. “You just… look good. Being all smart and shit.”

You roll your eyes, biting the bar between your teeth. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “But I think I’m in love with you.”

You freeze.

He hadn’t planned to say it. It slips out like a truth that’s been dying to breathe.

You look at him slowly, wide-eyed, mouth half open.

“…What?”

Shidou scratches the back of his neck, then shrugs. A small, crooked smile.

“I’m serious. You make me wanna be… not better, but like—less shit. You know?”

There’s no poetry to it. No flowers. Just Shidou, stripped bare.

He thinks you’ll laugh. Or worse—leave.

Instead, you reach out, touch his knee, gentle.

“…That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He grabs your wrist, tugs you into his lap with a grin. Kisses your temple like it’s his first time doing anything carefully.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles, breath warm against your skin. “And not just in that filthy way.”

You kiss him slow.

Maybe lust brought you to this place.

But love is what’s going to keep you there.

Rumors start.

Whispers in the halls. The captain gives you a long look one afternoon after practice. Teammates make jokes that hit too close to home.

“You spending a little too much time stretching out our striker, huh?”

Shidou brushes it off. Winks. Grins.

But you’re not smiling.

“This isn’t sustainable,” you tell him one night, your hands against his chest. “If anyone finds out—”

“So what?” he shrugs. “They do. Let ’em.”

“You don’t get it. I could lose my job.”

“Then quit.”

You blink. “What?”

“Quit PXG. Come with me. Wherever I go next.”

“Shidou…” You can’t even breathe.

But he just looks at you—calm, steady, real. The first time he’s ever looked like that.

“I want you,” he says, quiet. “Not just for this. Not just behind closed doors. I want you. All of you.”

You don’t say yes. Not right away.

It takes weeks. Time apart. Time to realize what life looks like without him in it. You miss the chaos. The fire. But mostly, you miss him—his laugh, his heat, the way he’d always meet your eyes across the gym like he was just waiting for an excuse to touch you.

Eventually, you reach out.

It’s raining. You find him at his place, hair wet, mouth curled into that same wicked grin you’ve always hated loving.

“You said you wanted me,” you whisper, voice low. “I want you too.”

He doesn’t ask if you’re sure.

He just kisses you. Long. Deep. Gentle for once.

And this time, it’s not just attraction.

It’s everything.

am i insane for making shidou have the only happy ending in this series ( so far ) ? perhaps. do i regret it? hell no.

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[xetlynn]

Yellowjackets- Lottie Matthews

protective forevermore…

A Lottie Matthews x reader imagine

more like this-> [yellowjackets]

Synopsis- In which Lottie still has her eyes on you after all these years, silently protecting you and making sure you stay safe. Even after everything the two of you have been through.

warning for content below-> may be triggering for some

warning: talks of suicide. talks of death. character attempting.

It’s getting harder to be normal, to be with civilization and go to work everyday. I feel as though I’m watching over my shoulder every second of every day. I feel dazed as though none of this is real anyways. Almost as though everything has a blur effect I can’t see clearly. This is the only thing that feels right. 

As I stand here on the edge of the bridge, holding on to a pole, my heels are the only thing keeping me on the platform. My eyes look up to the sky, as if I’m pleading to someone. 

There’s no one to plead with. Nothing to plead for. I feel that night breeze and it gives me goosebumps. A tenderness that reassures me. Comforting me. I’m tired of the nightmares, of the flashbacks of the terrible things in life. I want it all to end. I’ve come with such terms that it doesn’t even hurt anymore. My chest stopped aching months ago.

And as I feel my hand slipping, I let it do so naturally. I step out, ready for what’s to come next. 

Ready to feel the water surrounding me. Instead I feel multiple arms grab at me, pulling me backwards. “Hey!? What the fuck?” I squirm, trying to push away but they only get tighter. A bag going over my head and I can’t see who did this.

“Let me go!” I scream, wriggling my body aggressively. “Let me die! Just let me go!” I shout, kicking and kicking at whoever is near me. I feel my body get placed on the ground?

I try to get myself up but they’re already working on restraining my feet, along with my arms. “Who the fuck are you!? Who are you!?” 

I then feel a pinch in my arm… “What the fuck… what th-” and it goes black. 

•••

Groggily I open my eyes, blinking slowly as I look around me. Attempting to remember what the hell just happened. What the fuck happened? I try to bring my arm down to rub my face but it’s stuck in place, metal clinging as I jerk it again. “The fuck?” I look up to see myself restrained by handcuffs. I grow panicked, trying to slip my hand out. 

“Hey, hey… calm down!” A voice speaks as the door opens and I sit up, backing away as much as I can. “Who the fuck are you?” I angrily ask. Furrowing my brows, pushing my knees up to my chest, my ankles still tied together. 

“[Name], you don’t recognize my voice?” They say with hurt laced in their tone. You try to focus on what’s happening and they finally show themself. 

I gasp at the sight, but feeling multiple emotions all at once. “Lottie? Are you fucking kidding me?” My face contorts in confusion as she gives me a weak smile. “Been a while, huh?” She asks and I roll my eyes. 

“25 years is quite a bit, yeah.” I scoff, relaxing a bit. “Yeah, took me a while to find you.” She frowns deeply and I look back up to her. “To find me?” 

“Yeah… you’re pretty off the grid.” She chuckles, sitting on the edge of this bed. After being found from the plane crash we got separated. I heard she was sent off to Switzerland by her father. I had a hard time without her. Without someone who truly understood. I isolated myself for the first couple of years before moving to a more… rural area. 

“You’re beautiful.” She whispers, seemingly taking in my features and I avert my eyes from her. 

The room gets quiet and all of a sudden it hits me. I have handcuffs on. I was kidnapped. People watched me at my lowest as I was going to… jump. 

I jerk my wrist like before. “What the hell was with the theatrics?” My mood shifts, glaring up at her. She presses her lips together, muttering an “oh, right.” Getting a key out and letting me free before helping me with the rope around my ankles. “I didn’t know how you were going to be when you woke. Couldn’t risk you running away and finding another way to die.” She huffs out a dry laugh. 

My face gets warm as I rub my wrists from how tight the metal was after I jerked around. “Right.” I say softly, standing off the bed. “Who were all those people, Lottie?” I question as I step around the room, searching around to give a clue on where we even are. It looks like a bedroom meant for a married couple. 

Like a hotel retreat type room. 

“They’re a part of my intentional community here at Camp Green Pine.” She smiles, joining by my side. “So a cult?” I cross my arms, I wouldn’t be shocked if that’s actually what Lottie started doing. She snorts. “Some would say so. Come. Follow me.” She reaches out for my hand, I stare down at it. 

Hesitantly I take it, the comfort immediately setting in. I feel fuzzy in my chest. Something I haven’t felt since right before I lost her. 

She shows me around the Camp, showing me what she built, with the help of the members of course. It was strange, she had been building something… sort of strange but also good? It’s not hurting anyone nor does it endanger these people. They seem happy. She seems happy. 

Jealousy seeps into my chest the further I’m shown things around here. Them calling her Charlotte. Lottie isn’t around anymore? It’s Charlotte here… And for years I was nothing, I was alone. Not that anything will change once I leave here. I’ll still be… nothing. 

How long has she known where I am? Did she know how depressed I’ve been? How alone I’ve felt? Did she ever receive those letters in Switzerland?

“Lottie.” I spoke up but it went on deaf ears as other people were talking. “Lottie.” I repeated, tugging on her hand that has refused to let go of me since I took it. “Charlotte!” I exclaim finally earning her attention along with a few others that I didn’t want. “Yes, love?” She gently turns and I think my heart just skipped a beat at the nickname. 

Love. I haven’t gotten the chance to hear that come out of her mouth in years. Two and a half decades if we’re counting. “I need to talk to you. Now.” I motion to the opposite direction of the people. I can’t let her manipulate this feeling, can’t let her distract me out of this conversation. 

Her eyes were soft when she spoke to me, her lips fidget upward before nodding her head. Squeezing my hand. “Give me just one moment. See that room over there?” She points and I glance over, seeing a wooden door. “That’s my office, meet me in there?” She asks with a tilt of the head. 

“Okay, don’t be long. I won’t wait more than ten minutes.” I sternly tell her as I drop her hand, moving toward the room she told me to go to. Entering it I look around before going behind the desk. Plopping down on the weirdly comfortable chair. I turn it side to side. Checking it out. 

I roll it back so I can kick my feet up on the wood. Boredly observing the place. The anxiety of this is finally starting to kick in. I just got her back and there’s a possibility I’m going to hate every answer that she could give me. 

I just beg betrayal is far from the truth. I plead, plead to whoever is listening. 

Pleading is pathetic but in this case I’m willing to give up my dignity. 

The door is pushed further in, shutting swiftly behind her. I look up, placing my feet back down on the ground. “Ah, sorry [Name], they have to update me on every little thing sometimes.” She takes off her robe that she was wearing, placing it on the back of a chair. I stand up, going over to her. “How did you know where I was?” 

“I’m hard to track, you even said it. I’m off the grid. How did you find me?” I question her, trying my hardest not to jump to conclusions or grow angry without knowing anything first. 

“[Name], you think I of all people wouldn’t be able to find you?” She raises her brows and I scrunch my nose. “What- what do you mean? You of all people?” I ask and she smiles sweetly. “[Name], I’ve kept tabs on you all these years. I’ve had eyes where you wouldn’t believe.” She starts. 

I go to ask another question but she stops me. “Yes, I received your letters. No, I was not allowed to write you back. No, I didn’t know exactly where you lived. I just recently figured it out. And I’m lucky I did.” She steps closer to me but I step back, hitting her desk. Knocking something over. 

“[Name], I promise the second I found you I was trying to figure out how to contact you without coming across like a creep. Then you… did what you did and I acted fast. When I was told you kept visiting a bridge I knew. I knew you were-” She can’t get herself to say it, tears well up in her eyes and I find myself feeling guilty. 

“When we were younger, I protected you as much as I could. With the wilderness I could never leave your side and when that was stripped from me. When you and I were separated by my father I had to find another way to protect you.” She grabbed my hands, it was firm but tender. Electrifying. 

“I did everything in my power that I could. Cause never matter how hard I could attempt to even fathom the idea without you. Without protecting you, loving you, it would never feel right.” She knocks my chin up to look her in the face. I want to avoid her eyes, Avoid that look of sincerity and admiration that I’ve never felt that I deserve. 

“Do you have any more questions, love?” She asks me and I shake my head. 

“Good.” She brings me into an embrace for the first time this whole day and I melt into her body. 

“You’re beautiful…” She whispers just like she did when she first saw me. “And you’re never leaving my sight again.” She says and I feel her kiss the top of my head multiple times. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The smell of the roast fills the house as you focus on small tasks, things that aren’t urgent but keep you busy. Sy’s footfalls creak in the floorboard as he looms in the front room. You’re thankful to have him away from you for the time being. You’re confused and concerned about his unannounced arrival. 

You’re not sure what he means. Blessing. You look at the flowers. You’re not stupid. That’s a clear gesture and yet why would he do that for you? Why would he have an interest in you? 

The bigger question, one you can’t answer, how do you feel? Sy is nice enough but he’s scary all the same. Big and boisterous. He’s never done anything to you but you don’t really know him, do you? He doesn’t really know you. Well, this must be his way of getting to know you. 

It’s all a mystery to you. Relationships and all. Even familial one. You know from the movies that what you have with your dad isn’t normal. You can feel that he only really resents you. 

“Smells good,” Sy startles you. 

You peek over your shoulder and close the fridge. You go to the sink to rinse the cloth of the crumbs you wiped off the shelves. You wring it out and hang it to dry over the edge of dish rack. 

“Daddy’s late,” he clucks. “Ain’t he?” 

You look at the clock then him and shrug. He circles the table, pacing as his thick fingers twiddle. As he prowls, you’re reminded of a coyote. They always get into the shed in the hotter months, tearing at the rubbish stored there before truck day. 

“Anything I can help with, sugar? I don’t wanna be in your way,” he offers. 

You shake your head. You turn to the stove and open it slightly to check the roast. Still a bit to go. The potatoes need some softening. You shut it as the floor groans. You peek back and catch only Sy’s back as he disappears down the hall. He must need the bathroom. 

You continue your meandering cleaning. It’s not really messy at all but the place is old and everything’s a bit worn out, including you. As you adjust a canister in the spice rack, a noise catches your ear. Something familiar. 

You tiptoe to the hall and peer down it. You frown. Your bedroom is open. You go down and peek inside. Sy stands facing the wall, staring at the diamond art you did of finches in a nest. It’s one of your favourites so you hung it. 

He leans in as you tap on the door frame. He flinches and looks at you. He gives a sheepish expression and runs his hand over his beard. 

“Sorry, wasn’t meanin’ to intrude but the door was open so I... I was just lookin’ at this. You made it?” 

You nod. How can you tell him to get out? You have no way of making him. The door doesn’t always catch, he might not be lying. 

“Real pretty,” he praises and approaches you, “like you.” 

You blink and back up. You point back down the hall. You scurry away before he reaches you. You enter the kitchen and pull out a small saucepan. You’ll need it to make the gravy even if you won’t have the drippings to do so for some time. 

The puffing putter of your father’s truck underlines the tension as Sy lurks in behind you. You stay facing the stove, stilling your hands as you keep them on the hot edge of the stove. The warmth is just short of unbearable. 

Sy exhales and you brace yourself. Your heart beats furiously in anticipation. What will your dad think? How will he react? Usually, the large man cozens him with beer but today he’s only brought flowers. You can’t help but think of those floral curtains your dad tore down because they were too girly. 

Your dad clamours loudly up the steps. The door opens and snaps shut behind his stomping. He keeps his boots on as he enters the kitchen and scuffs short. 

Sy clears his throat, “hey, Don, how’s it goin’?” 

“Mmph, what’re ya doin’ here?” Your dad grumbles. You watch over your shoulder as he brushes past the large man and slams his lunch pail on the table. “Damn shit show down at the shop.” 

“Every day, isn’t it?” Sy chuckles. 

“Why’re you dressed like a funeral?” Your dad sniffs as he goes to the fridge. He snorts as he takes out the last beer. “Runnin’ low on Miller, too.” 

You wince and turn back to the stove. You do your best not to draw any attention. The awkwardness is as stolid as the heat radiating from the metal. 

“Well, ya know, I was comin’ to ask ya something important,” Sy explains. “About your daughter.” 

Your dad cracks the can open and slurps, nearly choking at the end, “her? What’d’ya want with that deaf rat?” 

Sy inhales audibly, “now, that ain’t no way to talk about a lady, is it?” 

“Lady?” Your dad chortles, “sure, Syverson, whatever you wanna call the appliance.” 

“I’m gonna say it one more time, you don’t talk about a lady that way,” Sy warns, the nervousness fading from his tone. “I came to ask for your blessing as I do have intentions with her. I’d like to... to build something with her. I’m a good man, Don, I think--” 

“Fucking shit,” your dad guffaws. “You ain’t serious? Her?” 

“She’s a nice lady. She keeps a good house, don’t she?” 

“She’s no use to you,” he retorts. “Got no more personality than a lamp. She can turn the stove on and wipe a dish clean but nothing else goin’ on there.” 

The oven buzzes and you quickly silence the timer. You take the oven mitts as the men behind you shift. You step back to open the door and carefully balance the roast pan as you bring it up onto the burners. Your dad makes another throaty noise. 

“Sure smells like a good dinner,” Sy says. “How about we enjoy it together--” 

“You’re fucking laughin’.” Your dad accuses. “Makin’ a joke of me ‘cause I’m stuck with the moron.” 

“Don,” Sy grits. 

“Nah, she’s a doornail, I know it. I don’t need ya pullin’ my leg about it.” 

“I’m not,” Sy insists. 

“Look at her. Like a goddamn robot. All she know how to do is cook and clean. Empty inside, ya know? It’s why she don’t talk. Nothin’ goin’ on, nothin’ to say.” 

“That ain’t true, and ya know it. You got no right mistreating your own daughter. I don’t like it.” 

“She’s my daughter, so why don’t ya take that ugly tie and get outta my house?” Your father snarls. 

“I came here honestly, Don. I’m not here to argue. I asked ya a question--” 

“No, you ain’t got my blessing. I told ya, she’s a fucking invalid--” 

“Don’t--” 

“You big lumphead, why don’t you ask her and see what she says?” Your dad interrupts. “Huh, see what you hear...” he pauses and you don’t move. You’re terrified. “See? She’s wacky--” 

“Don, you have some respect for her--” 

“Don’t tell me how to treat my own kin.” 

“Well, I’m tellin’ ya,” Sy sneers as his shadow moves. 

“You threatening me right now, boy?” Your dad puffs. 

“Only if you’re not gonna show her some decency--” 

“Get out of my house. You’re just as screwy as her. Two of ya together, fucked--” 

“Stop.” 

“Well, it’s true. Fucking mad for even thinkin’ of it--” 

“You don’t treat her right--” 

“And what would ya do with her? Big fucking ox like you. I seen the way you handle an engine. You’d break her.” 

“I didn’t call you any names, you don’t needa be rude.” 

“Rude? Aw, baby boy--” 

“I been nice, Don--” 

“Boo fucking h--” 

The crack of bone on bone makes you flinch. Then the loud crash and clatter draws you around. Your head is thrumming as your father’s body sprawls across the floor, the table scraping away from him. You only see his feet poking out from the other side.  

Sy stands over him, squared up, fists clenched, panting heavily. He’s a terrifying sight as he glares down at your father. You clasp your hands over your chest and sway. He doesn’t move. 

Slowly, you come around to look at your dad. He’s unconscious. His head lolls to one side as trickle of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. He’s not moving. You stare at his chest in search of his breath. One hit... no, that couldn’t be. 

The flowers lay across the floor, the canister overturned as water pools on the tile.  

“Told him not to insult ya,” Sy growls. 

Your eyes round and lower yourself to look over your dad. He can’t be gone. That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way one punch could kill him. Is there? 

“Don’t touch him, sugar,” Sy commands as he bends to catch your wrist before you can check for a pulse. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You look at him and your mouth falls open. What does he mean? You fidget in his grasp and shake your other hand. What do you mean? 

“I didn’t mean to...” he drags you up and away from your dad.  

You let him, quaking and afraid. If he can do that to your dad, what could he do to you? He puts you by the stove. 

He turns and strides around the table. He doesn’t hesitate as he lifts up your dad and carries out his limp body. You watch after him until you hear the garage door. What is he doing? 

You cling to the stove and listen. You hear metals and scraping, the grind of the rusted old hood opening in that old broken Bronco truck. A cantankerous cacophony. Then a deafening crash. 

The garage door opens and Sy’s footsteps come down the hall. He walks in calmly and pulls the table back into place. He fixes the chair and gathers up the stems, putting them all back into the canister. He hands the bunch to you. 

“Needs more water.” He says plainly. “I’ll get the mop.” You stare at him as you hold the canister in your hands.  

He backs away and leaves you without another word. You look at the flower then fill the canister again. You put it back on the table as he comes back. He hands you the mop. 

“You mind? I gotta call the medics for your daddy,” he drawls. “You know, I told him not to yank that chain. Whole engine just came down on him...” 

Your lashes flutter in confusion. You take the mop and he steps away. He takes out his cell phone and pauses, inhaling deeply. You sop up the water cautiously. 

He dials out and lifts the phone to his ear. You take the mop to wring out in the tub. You go down the hall and peek through the open garage door. You stop short as you come upon the scene. 

Your dad is bent under the open hood, his shoulders contorted grossly. The hoist is overturned, the chains twisted as the engine sandwiches your dad’s head beneath it. A tragic scene of carelessness. Staged perfectly. 

Your stomach churns as Sy’s voice drowns under the tempo of your fear. You grip the mop and twitch as your insides spasm. You think you’re going to be sick. 

Dead. He's dead. Sy killed him. It was an accident. He said so. He didn't mean to, right? He couldn't have meant to. They were friends. He always came over with beer. For your dad, not you.

“Aw, honey, don’t look at all that,” Sy comes down the hall towards you and you shy away.  

You bring the mop close to you and stumble away from him. You hold it up then quickly flee. You scurry down the bathroom as the garage door clicks shut. Sy tuts as he lingers. 

“Gotta wait for the cops to show,” he calls after you. “They on their way.” 

[eupheme]

So I finally watched Fallout. Really cool. Loved the main characters a lot. Totally going to be normal about it all 🫠 Also, if you're still taking requests, what about #10 "Spread your legs wider" with The Ghoul but in two different contexts? One where he's (begrudgingly) teaching reader how to shoot and another that's spicy.

ooh hi anon, I love this idea! 👀💖 these were such fun scenarios to explore together, I hope you like this! thank you so much for sending it in!

— on target

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 1.8k

Tags: weapon practice, pining, flirting, big dick cooper howard, parters-with-benefits, mutual mast, rough PiV

Two times the Ghoul tells you to spread your legs, and two times that you listen.

"Again."

You frown, a sideways glance from over your shoulder, "But I hit it."

A neat mark pierces clean through in the outlined target. Low and to the left, but still within the boundaries. A win in your book, compared to the mess where you started.

"That'd just slow a fella down, not kill 'em." The Ghoul snaps, "If you were aimin' for a head, you'd have missed. Again."

You sigh, as you peer down the sights. Somewhere along the way, your desire to learn became a desire to prove him wrong.

That you could be - would be - good at this.

Enough time spent watching him - drawing and firing before you can even blink - to know, out of anyone in the Mojave Wasteland, that you wanted it to be him to teach you.

But the Ghoul had been reluctant to show you how to shoot. Seemed content enough to handle things himself, when shit went down. A sneering curl of his lip, when you had asked.

"Shoot your own damn foot off, sweetheart," He scoffed, "Then were'd we be?"

You had pushed. Never begging, you wouldn't stoop to that. Just needling - a reminder of how much use you could be to him if you could truly have his back.

He had laughed. Hadn't needed someone in two-hundred years to do that. Doesn't know why he'd start to worry about someone watching his back now.

But, he relented. A small pistol pressed in your hand, with a spinning chamber and everything.

The next shot you take is closer, but still too low.

With a grunt, he's manhandling you. A hand at your waist, at the small of your back - moving you into position. His knee pressing to yours, a heavy boot nudging your own.

"Spread your legs wider, now." His voice is low in your ear, making you shiver, "Center your gravity."

Your body is slow to respond. Caught up in how close he is, how his touch feels electric - even through the layers.

"You listenin’, vaultie?" The sharp tone snaps you back, as you do as he says. Thighs inching wider, the curve of your ass pressing against his front.

"Good girl." He hums - the syllables drawing out - and it shoots straight through you.

A heat pounding in your cheeks as his hands still rest at your waist. Solid and unyielding, as he always was.

It takes a real effort to raise your arms and aim again. Inhaling a breath, and holding it.

His voice rough, as he rasps in your ear.

"Now, take the shot."

This time when you fire -

Your bullet hits dead center.

“Well, come on.” The Ghoul’s fingers pinch into your skin, “This was your idea now.”

As if he was no more than an innocent bystander. As if he doesn’t need this as much as you do, with the way he shifted into your wandering palm.

Your back arches, where it presses against the bedroll. Bare knees clamp against his waist. A boot lost to the wastes in your urge to rid yourself of clothing - pants and underwear in a twist around one of your shins.

Torn down after all that pent-up pressure finally came bubbling over.

“Spread ‘em wider, sweetheart.” There’s a tap against your thigh, a command in the low rasp of his voice. “Show me.”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you obey. Legs butterflying as they spread, dipping down as you open yourself up for him.

For once - instead of that laser focus on you, with that distrustful nature of his - those eyes dip down.

There’s a shark intake of breath. His fingers flex when he sees you - damp and glistening, as few things are out in the wasteland. The pretty gleam of your arousal as it drips from you.

Almost as if he means to touch. Sink two fingers deep, bury himself in you until you forget everything else.

Instead, they pinch against your hips. Slipping back up to work open that thick belt buckle. The sun glinting off ancient, yellowed resin as his layers loosen. Fingers closing around himself instead, easing the hard length free.

He’s thick, bigger than you thought. Your pulse spiking at the way his fingers, bigger than yours, just make it around. Ruined and red like the rest of him - though it doesn’t stifle the urge to part your lips and stick out your tongue.

The Ghoul’s chin dips down, when those eyes fix on yours again. A breath passes before realize what he wants - your own hand drifting. Your moan soft as the tips of your fingers press down, slowly sliding to your clit.

Teeth clenching down as your circle, aware of the sounds you make. Not just the hitch of your breath, but the loud, slick swirl of your fingers.

A betrayal, showing how much you need this - aching even before that first brush of his hands, guiding you into position.

His attentions transfixes you enough that you almost miss it. How his fist moves in tandem with yours, copying your rhythm.

It has your hips bucking into your touch, fingers rubbing just a little faster. Your lips parting with a harsh breath - torn between watching him get off to you, and wanting to see the look in his eyes doing it.

The decision makes itself - your eyes lifting until they’re dixing on each other, held until he makes a rough sound.

“Never seen you want somethin’ like this before,” He rasps, “You gonna ask nicely for this, too?”

His fingers tighten with the emphasis, squeezing. The tip gleaming with a pearl of precum, before it dribbles down to smear against his swollen tip.

Reminding you how you had needled at him to teach you, until he had barked a “fine, fuckin’ fine already-”. But this time, you can already feel that strung-tight wire inside you.

An innate knowledge that yes, it would be pleasurable to come with the heat of his gaze upon you - but to have his length buried deep, to come around his cock as he fucks you -

It would be incomparable.

“I need you,” You hear yourself beg.

“You need me to what?” His brow lifts, “Seems like you’re doin’ a fine job yourself.”

Your teeth grit, swallowing down your pride. The pace of your fingers just barely slowing - drawing it out, in the hopes he gives you what you need.

“Please,” The syllables draw out as you keen, “I need your cock, need you to fuck me-”

His eyes glitter in the afternoon sun, the cat that caught the canary.

“Where was this before, hm?” The Ghoul rasps, a twitch at the edge of his lips, “Could’ve gotten what you wanted a lot sooner, darlin’.”

Your answer comes out strangled, his hips moving just as your lips part. Fingers wrapped around his base to angle the tip. Nudging himself just inside the tight clench of your pussy - parting you open - before there’s the sharp forward punch of his hips.

It’s immediately too much.

The moan breaks, the air stolen from your lungs. Going from aching and empty to full in a second, all of your muscles going tight.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He breathes - jaw gritting the same way when he had looked at you, on that last day of practice, “Gonna snap it clean off if you don’t relax.”

That hunger etched so clearly across your face, his hands still resting on your hips. Tired of the teasing. The flit of his hands and the shift of his hips into yours. The rock of his thigh against your core, just as you were about to fire.

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish, sweetheart.” It had been rough in your ear, a warning and a challenge.

But if you could handle his gun - you could handle him, too.

With your own little snarl and a tilt of your head, you had kissed him. It feels like a dream, now, even though it was only a few moments ago.

And it’s only been a breath since you’ve been full of him, but each second lengthens. Your sounds bleeding into a whine as he starts to move - hands grasping at your hips, the thrusts starting shallow and turning longer.

“Not my fault.” You huff, that sharp sting easing into a syrupy warmth as he starts to move, “Didn’t tell me you were packing a-, a sarsaparilla bottle down there.”

“Is that right?” Lips wide stretch over stained teeth, “Can’t say I’ve heard that before.”

Your strangled laugh becomes a groan, as your start fingers swirl again. This is how it should be, you think - stuffed to the brim with him, as you bring yourself to the brink.

Eclipsing your quiet fumbling in the dark, the bitten-back hiss of pleasure. No more than a relief of tension and a way to sleep. Now, it’s so much more than that. The pleasure mounting, clicking upward - a geiger counter in the wastes.

Only for your cunt to tighten around him - a new wash of desire crashing over you - when the Ghoul inches his thighs wider. Arcing over you - his eyes narrowing when yours go wide, lips parting with a breathless gasp.

You wonder if he’s had as much practice with this, as he has with that gun of his. This new tilt of his hips sends him against a sensitive spot inside you, the tip nudging against it again and again.

He must, with the way he bares his teeth - the rough chuckle at the “oh fuck” that loosens from your throat.

The sound is like the sharp scrape of steel against flint to your ears. It would be startling if you didn’t know him the way you do.

“D-Don’t stop.” You beg again - the heel of a foot hitching to dig into his back, keeping him close, “Oh, you’re gonna make me come.”

“That’s the idea, sweetheart.” He growls - but for once he listens. That pace staying steady, his own chest heaving as you writhe beneath him.

Hips bucking to meet the sharp slap of his. Your touch too harsh, too needy. Pulling you to the edge with the realization that he wants to feel you come around him.

Just like he wanted to see you hit that target.

It’s that flicker of knowledge that sends you over.

The grin he gives you is near feral. Your head tilting back as the pleasure floods through you, sending your nerves endings alight.

Barely able to hear the soft echo of his words before.

“Good girl.”

thanks so much for reading! I have a few more requests I am working on, can’t wait to share them when I am done! 💖