#the strut one happened to me

[raspberry-parfait]

Jimmy's truck headcanon BONUS: in a relationship (NSFW)

Original hc here

Insists on trying to teach you how to drive a manual, but he's an awful teacher so he gets belligerent when you don't understand

You realize his road rage is starting to wear off on you when you catch yourself yelling at someone going only 70 in the fast lane

You can't tell if he keeps the piece of junk because he has a complex or it's just self loathing. He says it's because he likes having a project to work on

The death nail for the poor truck is when you two break the suspension by fucking in it and a strut bursts through the mount. (Credit @hellokittycondoms)

> nothing to fix because there's nothing to remount a new strut to but more rust. Rip truck.

> Says you have to buy him a new one since it's your fault you broke this one.

Has tried to get you to give him road head on more than one occasion

[blitheringmcgonagall]

Canon James Potter on hearing his name is linked to two ships in ao3’s top 20 ships for 2023 (no 8 and no 18):

Canon James Potter on hearing the most popular of the two is him & Sirius’ Deater baby brother Reggie:

[ladyofthelake]

Just got cameos from basically everyone in my fave band The Struts and just received the lead singer Luke (its like 4am hfsfbshdfbs) AND HE WAS SO SWEET AND GRACIOUS AND IM SO

[theinfinitedivides]

have a great need to see Kim Kibum vogue to Strut by Elohim & Big Freedia during this Pride Month. idk i think it would work

[h-t-m-l-o-v-e]

PLANET BOOTY CONCERT AAAAAAAAA

gifs to follow

[everlastingserenitys]

RIDE LIKE A PONY

summ. who would've thought you were going to get railed by the star athlete of the hockey team...before his game.

pairing. Caleb x f!reader cw. hockey player!Caleb, p in v, he's sensitive, dirty talk, kissing, semi public, wearing his jersey during sex, 1.3k wc a/n. hi guys i gave in and i'm starting a caleb series...starting off with a boom!

“Is this your way of wishing me luck, pipsqueak?” Caleb chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, sinking himself in the unexpected hug he received from you.

He still hasn't gotten changed in his uniform, and here you were, hugging on him for dear life as if he was going to die once he leaves the changing rooms. A few moments of silence pass and Caleb pulls away, looking down at your flushed face, probably caused by the cold temperature in the room.

He brought his hand to the sides of your cold skin and held onto you for a few moments as he stared into your eyes and then pulled himself away from you, heading over to his bag to grab his gear and clothes.

You stood still, watched his every move as he started stripping himself and started getting changed into his gear.

“Do you have practice today?” Caleb asked, sliding his shirt off and grabbed onto another one. You shook your head and sat on the bench across from him, eyes still locked on his figure as each piece started to stick to his body, one by one, he was already almost done getting changed.

“Just the jersey and pants left.” he mumbled to himself, digging his hands in his bag as he searched for his desired items.

“I’ll help.” you say, getting up from the bench and strutting towards Caleb, shoving him aside and dug your hands in his bag to find the things he was looking for. After a few minutes of searching you found the jersey and pants and pulled them out, waving it in front of his face.

“Thanks pip- huh?” Before Caleb could grab the stuff from your hands you pulled your hand back, a small smirk resting on your lips as you watched Caleb's reaction twist from confusion to amusement.

“Oh? Wanna help me put it on then?” Caleb pushed aside his bag and sat on the bench, spreading his legs and arms apart, indicating that you have the will to put his uniform on, but that wasn't what you wanted.

“Give me a kiss then I'll give your stuff back, deal?”

“If that’s all you wanted then you could have asked sooner.” Caleb teased, lifting himself off the bench and walked towards you. Once you were just mere inches away he slid his arms around you and lightly picked you off the ground, walking back to the bench and placed you there.

“Just a kiss, alright?” he whispered, his hot breath ghosts over your cold skin as his eyes stared down at you, waiting for approval. You nod and not even a second passed and he already had his lips planted on yours.

Caleb was practically devouring you, why? Because you wore his favorite lip balm that always sends him to a spiral when he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him even closer so he could savour more, there was no backing out now that he had a taste.

“Hey..” he muttered between the kiss, pulling away for a second to just dive back on you again. Caleb's tongue seeked for entrance and when you gave it to him, his hands reached the sides of your face, pulling you closer than ever.

His tongue intertwined with yours, and he couldn't pull away. He knew this would happen, and as much as Caleb tried controlling himself, he couldn't. He felt like a glass cup that shattered the second it drops on the ground.

“You did this on…ngh…purpose, didnt you?” he breathed, pulling away staring at your flushed face beneath him. You gave him a quick nod, the corner of your lips were playing a slight smirk that couldn't be held back anymore.

Caleb groaned, looking around the changing room before he picked you up, and placed you on his lap. Your eyes widened and instinctively, you started grinding your hips against his. Low whimpers filled the room, Caleb held onto you with a tight grip as he watched you ride yourself against him.

“That's itt, roll your hips ju-just like that…” he whimpered, bucking his hips the slightest to indicate to you to go quicker. You obey his silent orders and continue driving yourself against him, feeling his warm fabric make contact with your bare thighs.

“More caleb..” you whisper, grabbing onto his shoulders, pulling yourself closer. Caleb nodded and slid his fingers under the waistband of your skirt, toying with it before pulling them off, and also removing your other clothes in the process. A low whistle left his lips the moment you were left in nothing except your panties and bra.

“Is it cold?” he teased, bringing one of his hands to his pants and slowly sliding them off, revealing his aching, dripping cock.

You shook your head, well it was a complete lie, ‘cause the room was freezing but you couldn’t tell Caleb that so you just stayed quiet until he notices.

“Yeah? Alriightt” Caleb purrs and with his free hand he pushes you closer to his cock, and soon slides his hand down your body playing with your waistband of your panties before pulling them down.

“Don't make a mess, pips.”

You rolled your eyes and then felt his dripping tip make contact with your cunt, a quiet moan escaped your lips and you kept your eyes shut as Caleb continued to slowly push himself more and more inside you.

The comfort of his hand ghosting on your waist suddenly disappeared and that's when you realised he was reaching for the jersey that was still clenched between your fingers. In a swift movement he grabbed on the jersey and slid it on your body.

With the jersey on and half his length shoved deep inside you, you stare at Caleb in disbelief. His fingers soon found their way back to your waist and he pushed you up and down, up and down, keeping the rhythm at a slow pace.

“I knew you were cold,” he chuckled, rubbing one of his hands up and down, letting the friction of his jersey rub against your skin to make you feel a little warmed up. You put your head down, letting the sides of your hair cover your flushed face and gripped onto his shoulder tighter, as the pace started to get quicker.

“Let me see..mmh you.” Caleb asked, wrapping his hand on the back of your neck, prying your head to look at him but you shook your head and continued to keep your head down.

You eventually found control in the situation and rode yourself against him. Caleb chuckled and slid his fingers away from your head and sat back as he watched you pleasure yourself on his cock. Moans filled the secluded, echoey room. Both you and Caleb were in a daze, and god, it felt good.

“Hey.. Let me see you–urgh fuck yourself in my jersey,” he moaned, brushing his thumb against your lips and soon, you gave in, and slowly lifted your head up, looking directly into Caleb’s violet eyes.

Your vision was blurry, probably caused by the pleasure rushing through you. Caleb’s face looked like a fever dream, twisted and yet, still so beautiful. Your hips started to get tired and Caleb grabbed onto you again, thrusting you quicker and quicker.

He was hitting, Every. Right. Spot. Which was making you closer and closer to release, you wrap your arms around him and arch your back, feeling him against you as you chanted your release.

“Let it out.” he whimpered, thrusting you one more time before you unexpectedly came all over his cock, a sigh of relief escaped both yours and Caleb's lips, he panted against your shoulder and held onto you for a few moments.

“Caleb, your game?”

“It should be starting in a few minutes but my jersey is now messed up.” he frowned, skimming his fingers down his jersey you were wearing.

“Just wear it.” you mumble, taking it off and throwing it at his face before hopping off his lap and putting your clothes back on.

Caleb chuckled and eventually got changed, getting up and putting the final parts of his gear on. Once he finished changing he walked towards you, ruffled your hair, and gave you a kiss on your head.

“Wish me luck.”

“I will.”

part 1 of fly into your heart | caleb -> next work

[daryltwdixon]

Do It For Dale

I do it for my daddy and I do it for Dale I'm doing what I want and, damn, I'm doing it well

Summary: As Sarah’s best friend, you’re determined to give her the perfect 21st birthday—even if it means going behind her grumpy old dad’s back. But when the night spirals and you end up stranded, you’re forced to call the last person you want to face. And once Sarah is asleep, he shows you exactly what happens to girls who misbehave. || smut MDNI 18+, cheerleader!reader, bratty!reader, overprotective!joel, grumpy!joel, sarah's best friend!reader, sbf!reader, bfd!joel, wtf are these acronyms my god, college au, brattamer!joel, no outbreak, pinv, reader is on birth control, blowjob, f!receiving oral, no use of y/n, riding, dirty talk, tiny bit of degradation but also praise kink, spanking, big girthy age gap reader is 21+|| Inspired by Ethel Cain's American Teenager. "Do it for Dale" is a saying in memory of the nascar driver dale earnhardt who was known for his risky driving. basically 'take risks, make dale proud" the southern version of ‘you only live once’ >> thank you to my angels @dixonsdarkelf & @dixons-sunshine for looking this over / beta reading when it was just mere scraps on a page and giving me the confidence to keep going!!

“I don’t care what your dad says,” you snap, wedging your phone between your shoulder and ear as you bend to tie your pristine white sneakers. The laces cinch in your fingers with the kind of practiced precision that only comes from years of repetition—pure muscle memory.

The locker room is chaos. There are voices shouting across aisles, lockers slamming, pom poms rustling like restless birds. The low thump of stadium bass rattles up through the concrete floor, humming in your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s electric.

On the other end of the line, the voice is borderline panicked. “I’m serious—he said no going out. Just the two of us, nice dinner, low-key—”

“Sarah.” You switch the phone to your other ear, and tug a stray piece of hair back into place as you catch your reflection in the mirror screwed to your locker. “You’re turning twenty-one. Twenty. One. That’s the last birthday that matters until you hit, like, fifty and buy a boat.”

“Easy for you to say,” she mutters. “You don’t have Joel Miller for a father.”

You grin. “No, but I know him. Man’s all bark and no fun. Somebody needs to shake the dust off him.”

“Oh god,” she groans, “he’s coming to the game, by the way. So whatever you’re planning? Don’t make it weird.”

“Please.” You dig through your duffel for your lipstick. “Give me two minutes, and he’ll be begging to let you out of the house.”

“That sounded disgusting. Never say my dad and ‘begging’ in the same sentence again.”

You laugh as you swipe the red across your lips, smooth and practiced. In the background, Coach Peña barrels through the locker room doors like a storm system, barking out the countdown to kickoff. The girls start filing out around you, all pep and nerves.

“I gotta go,” you say, “Coach is foaming at the mouth.”

“Fine. Just don’t get me grounded before the third quarter.”

“No promises. Love you, mean it, bye.”

You toss your phone into your bag, zip it shut like sealing a vault, and pause for one last look in the mirror. Bright smile, flushed cheeks, and candy-glossed red lips. The kind of lashes that get you out of tickets. The kind of uniform that falls somewhere between school pride and a pin-up calendar hanging in a mechanic’s break room.

You lean closer to fix a clump of mascara and rub a smudge of red off your tooth. That smile curls back again—not the sweet one from halftime routines, but the other one. The one that gets you into trouble.

Then you grab your pom poms, swing your locker shut, and strut out of the locker room with the confidence that gets you into bars for free and banned from Student Council meetings. 

Game on.

The air is electric—crisp with that first snap of fall, leaves crunching under boots in the parking lot, the smell of cheap beer and burnt hot dogs drifting in from the tailgaters who’ve been posted up since noon. The stadium’s packed, a blur of school colors and screaming faces, everyone high on spirit and spite and way too much booze and energy drinks. There’s nothing quite like the high of a homecoming game.

If this wasn’t American football, you’d swear the crowd was here for blood.

You kick your leg up high, pom poms shaking like fireworks in your hands, your grin sharp enough to slice through the October air. Your thighs burn with the repetition, but you don’t stop. You feed off of this: the roar, the stomping feet, the chanting, the band playing at volume in the field behind you. It’s chaos, it’s magic, it’s everything.

You spin into another high kick as the running back punches into the end zone, and the crowd erupts. Your ponytail bounces, your lipstick still flawless despite the sweat, the screaming, the adrenaline thundering through your veins like rocket fuel.

This is what you live for.

You cartwheel, hands and pom poms catching the ground before your squad forms into a pyramid with practiced ease, launching into a cheer that gets the whole section yelling along.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Sarah posted up in the stands—her dark hair pulled up with school-colored ribbons woven in, ends tied off in bows like she just walked out of a Pinterest board. And next to her, arms crossed and jaw set in his signature I hate fun expression, is the man you plan to convince to let his perfect Honor Society daughter get blackout drunk tonight: Mr. Miller.

Flannel. Scowl. Zero sense of humor.

As if he can feel your stare from the top of the pyramid formation, his eyes flick from the players taking a timeout on the field—to you.

Even from this far away, you can see the way his brow furrows just a little deeper, the lines on his face etching like fault lines, like he can read every debaucherous plan in your head about tonight.

And it only makes your grin widen.

After your halftime performance—which included you seeing your entire life flash before your eyes when Ryan, one of your catchers, stumbled as you came flying down from a basket toss—you found Sarah at the bottom of the bleachers, about to head back up with a charred hot dog in one hand and a Gatorade in the other.

One second, you were airborne under the stadium lights, all grace and clean lines, the crowd roaring like they’d never seen a cheer squad stick a toss before. The next, you were dropping way too fast, Ryan’s hands scrambling to catch your left leg as the whole formation wobbled.

You landed hard, your shoulder slamming into someone’s chest, your breath punching out in a sound that definitely wasn’t choreographed. Half the squad gasped. The other half kept smiling. Coach screamed something incoherent from the sideline.

But you popped right back up, beamed like you hadn’t just bruised half your spine, and finished the routine.

Showbiz, baby.

“Hey!” Sarah calls when she spots you weaving through the crowd. “I seriously thought you died when Ryan almost dropped you.”

Her face is twisted in a full-body cringe as she looks you over, like she’s checking for bruises.

You swipe some sweat off your brow with the back of your hand, catching your breath as you lean against the metal railing. “Tell me about it. If he thinks he’s copying my chem homework next week, he’s got another thing comin’.”

She snorts. “He hasn’t passed a test since freshman year.”

“Exactly. He’s one C-minus away from being kicked off the team,” you grimace, then lean in a little on the railing with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Though I heard he and a bunch of the guys are hitting up The Tipsy Bison later. I know it’s a dump, but the drinks are cheap and the bartenders don’t card if you tip them, like, a couple bucks and wink. We’d only need to wait it out til midnight anyway since–”

“Uh-huh,” Sarah says, but her eyes are already shifting—because someone else is approaching.

“Evenin’.” A low voice cuts in from your left, and the air instantly shifts. 

You look in the direction of the voice, and there he is. Joel Miller, in all his glory. Holding a hot dog and Miller Lite (ironic that the man likes his own namesake beer, no?), wearing that same dark green plaid he probably wore to every barbecue and grocery run. His expression is set in granite. The man looked like he hadn’t smiled since the Bush administration and he was damn proud of it.

“Enjoyin’ the game, Mr. Miller?” you smile sweet as can be up at him. The breeze shifts, carrying the scent of his cologne—all woodsy and dark. There’s something you can’t place but hate how much you like.

He grunts, then looks at his daughter, “You ready?”

“So–” you cut in quickly as she nods, ready to turn around and head back to their seats, “word on the street is Sarah’s got a very important birthday tonight. Twenty-one’s a big deal. Life-changing, even. Seems like something worth, I don’t know… celebrating?”

“She’s not going out to your Tipsy Bison bullshit,” he said flatly.

So he had heard everything.

“Not even for one little drink?” you asked, eyebrows raised in mock innocence, “C’mon. She’s practically a senior citizen in college years. You gonna keep her locked in the tower forever, or what?”

“She’s got class Monday.”

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice just enough to sound like a co-conspirator. “Good thing it’s Saturday.”

Still nothing. His silence is like a damn wall. An unreadable, infuriating, weirdly attractive wall.

You blinked up at him, mock-offended. “Wow. You really need to get laid, don’t you?”

That earned you a shift—a quick flick of his eyes in your direction, sharp and unreadable, his jaw tightening, but still not a word.

Joel Miller, the human embodiment of a steel door.

You smirked. “Ooh, that bad, huh?”

From a few steps above, moving out of the way like a storm was brewing between the two of you, Sarah groaned. “Dad, please don’t murder my friends!”

You took a step back, throwing both hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just thought I’d ask. Y’know, on behalf of your adult daughter.”

Joel turned away, back up the bleachers, “Get back to your little song and dance, kid.”

And that was that. You watched his back for a second longer, half amused, half intrigued. Then you looked up at Sarah and surprised her with a grin as her dad began ascending the stairs.

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

You didn’t bother texting first. Sarah would’ve found some way to talk you out of it, knowing her.

Still in your uniform, though the pom poms had long ditched, lipstick a little faded but your confidence entirely intact, you march right up the Miller porch and rap your knuckles against the tall wooden door.

It only takes a few seconds before it swings open.

Joel stands there, beer in one hand, jaw already clenched like you’d personally ruined his evening by breathing on his welcome mat. His eyes take their time sweeping over you—legs bare, cheeks flushed from the walk over, school jacket slung over your arm. By the time they land back on your face with that signature glare, there’s a smile on your lips.

“The hell you doin’ here, kid?”

Your grin widens, sweet as sugar, “Evenin’ to you too, Mr. Miller.”

He barely even blinks.

You shift your weight onto one hip, the skirt of your uniform shifting across your thighs. “Thought I’d come talk to you again. Woman to man.”

He exhales hard through his nose. “’Bout what, exactly?”

“You know what,” you say, rolling your eyes, “It’s your daughter’s birthday. I just want to take her out for one drink!”

“She ain’t goin’.”

“Ya know, Mr. Miller,” you say, eyes dancing as you lean in a little closer, voice syrupy, “if you’re gonna make me beg, the least you could do is pull my hair while you’re at it.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes, dark and dangerous as his lip curls up, his figure stepping close enough to cast a shadow over you. You hold your ground, grin tugging at the corners of your mouth, daring him to snap, to rise to it.

Just as he opens his mouth to retort, you hear footsteps on the stairs.

“Oh my god,” Sarah says, voice full of disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

Joel‘s eyes are still on you, but as if remembering himself, he scoffs, stepping aside just enough for her to poke her head out from over his shoulder. As you pull yourself on your tip toes to look over him, you see Sarah— hair still tied up in those bows, though they’ve fallen since you last saw her. Her brown eyes are wide as she takes in both of you standing together.

You lift your hand in a casual wave. “Told you I’d try. But your dad’s playing medieval warden again.”

Sarah groans, coming down a few steps. “Daaad…”

You raise a hand, cutting her off before she can jump in too. “Don’t worry, I had a feelin’ he’d be like this.” You reach into the bag slung over your shoulder and pull out a DVD, holding it up like a peace offering. She’s The Man. “If we can’t go out, we’re celebrating in. I at least want my best friend to enjoy her goddamn birthday.”

Joel’s eyes narrow. “You’re stayin’?”

You shrug. “Unless you’re plannin’ to physically remove me—yeah.”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t stop you, either. He just stands there, glaring, as Sarah appears beside him and grabs your hand to pull you inside. The two of you are already halfway up the stairs by the time he can manage to take a breath.

You glance back at him just before turning the corner. He’s still standing in the doorway, muttering something under his breath, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck like you’ve given him a migraine in the span of two minutes.

“Don’t wait up, Mr. Miller,” you call with a grin.

He shuts the door with more force than necessary, and you swear you can hear him muttering as he takes a sip of his beer, something like, “Goddamn pain in my ass.”

You follow Sarah into her room, shutting the door behind you with a soft click as she drops onto her bed in a dramatic sprawl.

Your eyes scan the familiar space. The twin bed, with its purple-and-gray comforter, is pushed into the corner, the lineup of band posters curling at the corners on the walls. The old photo of her and her dad at a soccer match she won a trophy for with her team is still taped above the lamp.

“So,” you start, turning the lock.

Sarah immediately sits up, eyes narrowing. “No. Nope. What are you up to?”

“What?” you say, all wide-eyed innocence.

She points at you like she’s caught you red-handed. “That face. I know that face. You’re scheming.”

“Of course I’m scheming,” you say, manicured nails finding your hips once you drop your bag down. “Sarah, you’re twenty-one. You only turn twenty-one once, and you wanna spend it… what? Watching She’s the Man and ordering pizza?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t not say that.”

She groans. “I don’t know…”

“Look—we’ll watch the movie I brought, play it chill for now, and then once the old man crashes on the couch like he always does—boom. We’re out. You’re putting on your hottest jeans, I brought you Jason’s football jersey—”

“Why do I need a jersey?”

“Half-off beer for anyone wearing school colors,” you say, like it's obvious, “God, do you ever go out?”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead, “you really planned this all out.”

“Correct,” you grin, “and that’s why you love me. Now—either those jeans that make your ass look phenomenal or that little skirt I gave you last year. We’ll do your makeup, fix those ribbons, and then you’re hauling your ass out that window whether you like it or not.”

As you ramble on, you catch the smile forming on her lips, her fingers rising to hide it, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’re insane,” she says, laughing.

“I’m a genius,” you correct.

“He’s gonna kill you.”

Your red lips stretch into another grin. “I’d love to see him try.”

God, you were good. You’re a humble girl—really. Scout’s honor. But the things you can do with a makeup brush…Honestly? It deserves scientific documentation. Because by the time Mr. Miller’s snoring echoes through the walls and drifts up the stairs, you were already at work.

And now, only half an hour later, the birthday girl is glowing.

Her eyeliner is sharp enough to cut glass, her lips gleaming with that pink gloss you found buried at the bottom of her vanity drawer, and her cheeks are flushed that perfect rosy tone that makes her caramel skin look like it belongs in a beauty campaign.

“Oh. My. God,” you breathe, stepping back to admire your masterpiece. “You are so getting us free drinks tonight.”

“Drink,” she corrects, holding up a finger. “Singular. I promised one.”

You roll your eyes, already heading for the window. “Uh-huh. One drink. One shot. One phone number. I’m flexible.”

“I mean it!”

You just grin over your shoulder. “I know. But I also know you. You’ll cave the second someone with a thick Texan accent says you have pretty eyes.”

She lets out a groan—half exasperated, half excited—as you push the window open. The Austin night air drifts in, dry and cool against your skin, the quiet hum of cicadas in the distance. The sky is dark and clear, moonlight pooling across the shingles like it’s inviting you out.

You duck through first, your legs swinging over the sill as you balance on the edge. “Come on, birthday girl.”

“You're gonna get us killed before my dad even has the chance.”

You glance back with a grin. “Relax, it’s just a little jump.”

“Uh-huh.” She squeaks, but still climbs out behind you, barefoot and holding her heels, a whispered shit shit shit under her breath as the two of you crouch low and begin the careful climb down the old lattice nailed into the side of the porch. It isn’t exactly stable, but it holds—like it always does when you’re the one sneaking in.

You land with a soft thud in the grass, then looking up, you reach a hand toward her. “Easy. I got you.”

She drops down next to you, a little breathless, a little wild-eyed, already grinning.

Your phone buzzes with the alert of your driver arriving.

You slip your phone into your purse and nudg her with your elbow as the two of you start toward the street.

“One drink,” she reminds you.

You just smirk. “Sure, babe. One drink. And if we end up dancing on tables by midnight?”

“That’ll be on you.”

“Yeah. I can live with that.”

And off you go, pulling on your sneakers, the stars bright overhead as you climb into your Uber.

The night had gone from rowdy to regretful real fast.

And now, sitting on the curb outside the bar, shoes dangling from your fingers, the soles of your feet throbbing, you’re realizing just how deep in shit you are. The air has cooled just enough for goosebumps to rise along your arms, the sweat and heat from the crowded dance floor long gone. Your other hand clutches your phone, the blue glow of the screen casting shadows across your face.

The Uber app spins. And spins. And spins.

“No. No, no, no,” you whimper, voice tight as the screen flashes: No drivers available in your area.

No Uber. No Lyft. And no way in hell are you spending fifty bucks on a yellow cab. Yeah, you waitress at the diner, but that’s damn near an entire shift’s pay. Just to get home in one piece? No thank you.

You glance sideways.

Sarah is slumped beside you, her head cradled in her hands, the ribbons that once sat perfectly in her hair now unraveling in limp curls. One of her earrings is missing. Glitter streaks across her cheek like a tear. She lets out a soft, pitiful sound—somewhere between a sigh and a groan—and you swallow hard.

“Hey,” you murmur, crouching down in front of her, trying to keep your voice calm, “drink some of this.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she mutters. She sips from your water bottle like it’s acid.

“Well,” you say, steadying her with one hand on her shoulder, “if not now, you definitely will be in a second.”

Your stomach churns. Not from the alcohol—from what you’re about to do.

You take a breath, swipe to your contacts, and tap the name you’ve been avoiding all night.

Joel Miller’s truck pulls up ten minutes later.

It rumbles into view like a warning—headlights sweeping across the sidewalk, engine growling low and loud in the silence of the early morning. You stand, heart in your throat, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

He barely put it in park before he’s out the door and moving.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, soft as ever, sliding his arms under Sarah’s shoulders to lift her, “I got you. It’s alright.”

She whimpers something, an apology maybe, but he just hushes her gently and helps her into the back seat, tucking her in like a child and buckling her seatbelt.

And then he turns.

Gone is the soft-spoken dad. Gone is the cooing.

His face shifts in the dim streetlight—jaw locked, eyes hard, voice like gravel.

“Get in the truck.”

Your mouth opens. It closes again, then you say, “I can find my own—”

“I said.” He takes a step toward you, slow and sharp. “Get. In. The truck.”

He yanks the passenger door open.

You stare at him for a second too long, heart pounding, but you step up into the cab and slide into the seat without another word. Joel slams the door behind you, and the truck rattles as he gets back in, hands gripping the wheel hard enough to make the leather creak.

The house is quiet when you get back, the kind of silence that feels like it might shatter if you breathe too loud.

Joel doesn’t say a word as he parks the truck and gets out. He silently opens the back door and unbuckles Sarah, arms curling under her like second nature. She stirs with a small groan, burying her face in his chest, and he murmurs something you don’t catch—low and warm and so damn gentle it makes your throat tighten.

The whole drive, his jaw had been clenched, eyes fixed on the road, one fist pressed to his mouth like he was holding back something dangerous. But now all you see is the gentleness in him as he carries her inside.

He nudges open her bedroom door with his boot at the top of the stairs, and you linger in the doorway, half-hidden by the frame, watching him move.

He settles her onto the mattress like he’s done it a hundred times, pulls back the blankets, and slips her shoes off. You watch as he tucks her in with practiced hands, slow and steady, smoothing the covers up over her chest.

Then he kneels beside the bed and brushes the hair from her face. Just once. A soft tuck behind her ear. Your heart thuds heavily in your chest. There’s so much love in that one motion, it feels like you shouldn’t be allowed to exist in it with them.

He stands, turning toward you only long enough to brush past you without a word. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge you. Just moves down the hall, shoulders stiff and set, and disappears into the bathroom.

You hear the cabinet open. The faucet runs, something rattles on the counter.

When he passes you again, it’s with a glass of water in one hand and two white pills in the other. Still no words. No glance. Like you aren’t even there.

Your jaw tightens as he ducks back into Sarah’s room.

A minute later, he’s back in the doorway, pulling it shut behind him until the soft click of it closing can be heard in the dim hallway. Then, he turns.

And finally looks at you.

His face is unreadable. Jaw set and eyes cold. His mouth is a hard line, and those eyes that were once holding warmth as he took care of Sarah are deep and dark as they look down at you.

“I shouldn’t have—” you start, your voice small.

“Don’t,” he says.

You blink.

“I mean it,” he adds, walking past you toward the stairs, “don’t start with some half-ass apology just ‘cause you feel guilty now.”

You follow him. “I do feel guilty.”

He stops short, turning back to face you before stepping down. His eyes catch yours, sharp and cutting.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You snuck out,” he snaps, the words cracking like a whip. “You took my kid into some shitty bar in your stupid little uniform and cheap perfume and thought that made you clever. Thought it made you cute.”

You feel the heat rise in your face—not from shame, but from something else entirely.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some little girl.”

“Then stop actin’ like one.”

You take a step toward him. Then another.

Joel doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His arms stay locked at his sides, fists curled, shoulders tense. His jaw flexes once, twice, like he’s biting back something worse.

“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?” Your voice softens, but only just. “You think I don’t catch the way you hover near the kitchen when I’m there, like you just happen to need something the second I bend over to grab something from the fridge?”

His eyes flash, but he still doesn’t speak.

So you keep going.

“The way you are at the games, pretending not to look. Pretending that you don’t think about me in this ‘stupid little uniform’?”

His breath comes a little heavier now, and his fists still haven’t unclenched, “You’re treadin’ on some mighty thin ice here, girl.” he says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re gonna wanna back up.”

You step in anyway, closing the last of the space. You lift your hand and press a finger to his chest, right over the line of buttons. You feel the heat of him through the cotton, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Just admit it,” you whisper. You tilt your chin up, just enough to meet his eyes. “You don’t see me as some kid anymore, Joel.”

His gaze drops to your mouth, lingering like he wants to watch his name fall from your lips. Then you watch as his eyes climb their way back to yours, slower this time. Measured. He looks at you like he’s still trying to convince himself this isn’t happening, but all you can see is the heat in his eyes. 

And then his hands are on you.

Large, rough palms grabbing you with more force than you were ready for—dragging you forward, only to spin you and shove you. Your body hits the wall with a muted thud, breath catching as your palms splay flat against the cool surface. His chest is pressed to your back in the next second, pinning you there, the heat of him burning through your shirt.

You gasp, your cheek catching against the wall, breath fogging the paint. “What’re you—”

“You are such a goddamn brat,” he cuts you off, growling in your ear.

Your legs nearly buckle. You’re breathing hard already, the adrenaline and arousal twisting into something dizzying, but still—still—you can’t help the smile that pulls at your mouth.

His hands drop to your ass, gripping a handful through your skirt, his fingers digging in possessively. You arch slightly, instinctively, and he groans low in his throat, pressing harder into you like he’s trying to pin every inch of you still.

His forearm slides across your chest, then wraps around your throat—not quite choking, but holding. His bicep rests against your jawline, elbow snug beneath your chin, tilting your head just enough to keep you in place as his free hand drags your skirt up.

“Damn shorts,” he mutters when he finds the line of spandex in his way, annoyed. And then he’s yanking them down in one rough pull, not gentle or remotely slow. You let out a curse under your breath as the fabric drags down your thighs, baring you to him.

“Mr. Mill—”

“Need to show you.”

Your voice shakes when you answer. “Sh-show me?”

He leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice like gravel and heat.

“What happens when brats disobey me.”

You try not to picture what it would look like if Sarah suddenly walked in—if she rounded the corner and saw you like this. Bare from the waist down, palms pressed to the wall, thighs trembling. Her dad standing behind you, his hands still on your hips, the hard press of him straining against his jeans.

But then your thoughts are shaken loose when you feel it. His palm, warm and broad, resting on your ass.

“Count,” he says, low and firm.

You barely have time to ask what he means before the first smack lands.

The sound cracks through the hallway, and you jolt, a gasp ripping from your throat. Not just from the sting, but from the way it shoots straight down your spine, heat blooming through your core.

“One,” you whisper.

His hand is back on you, soothing for a second, then gone.

Smack.

You bite your lip, hips jerking forward instinctively.

“Two.”

He hums behind you, like he’s pleased with himself. Or with you. Maybe both.

Another smack. Harder this time.

Your knees wobble.

“Three.”

“Mm,” Joel mutters, his voice deep, lazy, “thought you’d get louder than that.”

You grit your teeth, fingers flexing against the wall, breath starting to come faster.

The fourth one stings, sharp and hot.

“Four,” you moan. You can’t help it. Joel chuckles darkly behind you at the sound.

And then his hand slides down lower, to the slick waiting for him between your thighs.

Fingers dragging through your folds, slow and unhurried, and when he finds you soaked, he hisses through his teeth.

“Well, would you look at that.”

You squirm, a breathy whine escaping before you can catch it. His fingers stroke through your arousal a little firmer, a little more deliberate. You whimper at the contact of his calloused fingers, so thick and warm against you.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, and you can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks.

“Bad girls don’t get to play,” he murmurs, “even if their pussy’s practically cryin’ for me.”

Joel tsks quietly. His hand cups your ass again, possessive. His fingers are still slippery with the feeling of you. “Spoiled little thing. Thinkin’ she gets a reward for sneakin’ outta my house.”

His hand falls from your ass, and you hear the low scrape of his boots on the hardwood as he steps back.

“Turn around.”

You obey instantly, cheeks hot, body still throbbing from the sting of his palm. You pivot slowly, heart hammering, eyes catching on the way he towers over you—jaw tight, eyes dark with something closer to hunger than anger.

“Down.” He says, nodding to the floor in front of him. “On your knees.”

You drop without hesitation, the wood floor hard beneath your skin, but you don’t care. Not when he’s looking at you like that. Not when the air between you is so thick it’s hard to breathe.

His eyes stay on yours as he lifts one hand, fingers twitching as they tilt your chin up.

“Show me your tongue.”

You blink up at him, heat rushing straight between your legs at the command.

“Now.”

You part your lips and slowly stick your tongue out, holding it there—wet, obedient, waiting. Joel’s gaze drops to your mouth, and his jaw ticks again.

“So…” he mutters, voice low, approving, “she does know how to listen.”

His hand under your chin turns your face from side to side, your spit beginning to gather at the sides of your mouth as you realize he’s…admiring the view.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl when you wanna be.”

You grin, just a little, tongue still out, but there’s mischief behind your eyes. You tilt your head the tiniest bit, eyes flicking down to the bulge in his jeans, then back up again—deliberate.

“I’m always good,” you say around your tongue, your voice smug, a little breathy. “You just can’t handle it.”

Joel’s jaw flexes. He lets out a slow breath through his nose, like he’s trying very, very hard not to lose it.

“Always gotta run that mouth,” he mutters.

Then his hands find his belt. You stay right where you are, tongue still out, eyes narrowed, but now there’s a smirk tugging at your lips, even as your breath hitches when the buckle comes undone. You watch him with that cocky little tilt to your chin, like you’re waiting to see what he’s working with. Like you know exactly what’s coming, and you’re not sure he deserves your awe just yet.

He unzips his jeans, pushing them down just far enough to pull himself free.

His cock springs out thick and flushed, already hard, already leaking for you. The head is a deep, angry red, and it twitches slightly in his hand as he wraps his fingers around the base. 

Your smirk falters. He’s huge. Bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and your stomach flips at the idea of it going…anywhere.

“Think what you mean is can you handle it?” Joel asks, voice low, rough.

You blink slowly, playing it cool even as your thighs press together.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Joel chuckles as he strokes himself once, slow and firm, eyes on your mouth.

“Open wider,” he says.

You do—but not all the way. Just enough to be a little annoying. A little slow. You even raise your eyebrows like this what you wanted?

Joel’s smile fades as he guides himself to your mouth.

“God,” he mutters, sliding his cock along your outstretched tongue. He teases himself there, the thick, swollen head dragging slowly across the surface—coating your lips in precum, smearing it slow and slick.

You hate how intoxicating he smells. Hate how good he tastes. Hate how much you love this angle—kneeling between his thighs, watching him look down at you like this is where you belong.

“Gonna paint my cock with that pretty red lipstick, baby?” he asks, voice rough with amusement, a smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You smile up at him—defiant, even now—before closing your lips around the tip. The moment you suckle, your tongue flicking at the salty bead of arousal, he lets out a sharp, broken breath like you knocked it out of him.

He growls and suddenly backs you into the wall. Your head bumps against the hard surface, and your hands shoot out, grabbing at his thighs—nails digging into the worn denim for something to hold onto.

You glare up at him even as he presses deeper into your throat, taking control. His fingers slide into your hair, tightening, holding you there against the wall. He watches with dark, hungry eyes as your lips stretch wide around him, spit glossing the corners of your mouth.

“I like you so much better when your mouth is full of me.”

And then he starts to move.

He fucks your mouth with steady, brutal thrusts—your throat flexing around him, gagging as he pushes deeper, harder. You choke, sputtering when he thrusts all the way in, tears springing to your eyes as mascara streaks down your cheeks.

“That’s it,” he groans. “Gooood girl.” He drawls it out low and thick before pulling himself from your mouth, bending to hover in front of your face, eyes drinking you in—wrecked, ruined, perfect.

Your lipstick’s smudged across your chin. Mascara tears drag down your cheeks. Your mouth is red and wet and trembling.

He leans in and kisses you.

It’s brutal and hungry. His tongue pushes past your lips with zero hesitation, and you open for him instantly, swallowing the kiss like you’re starving. He tastes like that stupid Miller Lite and something synthetic, waxy—and you realize it’s your lipstick on his mouth.

When he pulls back, it’s too soon, and you chase his mouth without thinking.

He grins down at you, wicked and wild, and pats your cheek. Not gentle, not quite a slap, but something in between. Like a good dog.

Then, standing tall again, he grabs the base of his cock, lines himself back up, and guides it back into your mouth. He’s slow at first, letting you feel the weight of it. The heat. The way it stretches your jaw until your lips ache, the base of him thick and veiny against your tongue.

“That's it,” he murmurs, his hand tightening in your hair, “all the way into your throat, baby.”

He starts to move again in controlled, steady thrusts that make your throat flutter and your eyes tear up all over again. You moan around him, and the vibration makes him grunt, hips stuttering forward like he wasn’t ready for how good it feels.

His other hand drops to your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheekbone as he watches the slick shine building around your lips.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You moan again, louder this time, and your thighs squeeze together.

Tightly.

The pressure spikes, your breath shallow and high, and your hand flutters down between your legs before you even think about it. Your fingers find your soaked folds—so warm, so wet you could cry—and you can’t help it. You have to touch. Just a little. Just enough to take the edge off. You swirl two fingers over your clit, barely a brush, just enough to ease the pressure. 

Your throat tightens around Joel’s cock as you jerk against your fingers, and his eyes widen as he looks down at you.

“You touching yourself right now?” he asks, voice low. Disbelieving. His eyes drop to where your thighs are clenched together, to the subtle movement of your hand, and then back to your mouth wrapped around his cock. “Jesus fuck, baby.”

You moan around him again, your free hand bracing against his leg, nails digging into the muscle of his thigh.

“Couldn’t help it, huh?” His voice softens, but not with mercy—with need. “S’that good? That what my cock does to you?”

You nod as best you can, eyes fluttering, lips sucking harder, chasing that praise like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the floor. Your hand moves faster between your thighs, the pressure building hot and tight, a slow coil of need that burns through you like fire.

Joel groans above you, his hips starting to move again—deep, steady thrusts, like he’s savoring every inch of your mouth. You can’t help but moan around him again and again, eyes glazed, desperate.

But then, to your dismay, he slows.

And then he stops.

You whine, brows knitting together as he pulls out of your mouth, his cock heavy and flushed, spit-slick and twitching just inches from your lips. You blink up at him, lips wet and trembling, throat aching and still wanting more.

He doesn’t let you whine or complain before his hand is pulling yours away from yourself, tugging you up from your knees. Your legs are unsteady, muscles cramped and shaky from the floor, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust. In one swift movement, you’re off the ground, hauled up and over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

“Hey!” you gasp, hands scrabbling at his back, your stomach squished against the hard plane of his shoulder.

He swats your ass—hard—the sound sharp in the hallway. You yelp again, and his voice drops to a low, lethal hiss.

“Quiet.”

He carries you past Sarah’s door, the floor creaking beneath his boots, his arm tight around the backs of your thighs to keep you in place. You bite your lip, breath catching in your throat as you pass the one room you’ve never dared to enter.

And then he opens it.

His door.

The space is dark and warm, and you only have a second to process it before you’re flung onto the bed.

You land with a soft grunt, arms propping you up as you sit up to look at the man before you. He takes off his shirt, shucking off his jeans with haste, and is on you in the next breath. 

“Ain’t about to let you come all by yourself on those fingers,” he says, reaching for your thighs and yanking them toward the edge of the bed with one rough pull.

His hands are already on you again, calloused palms spreading your thighs apart, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh until you gasp.

Joel groans in his throat, his eyes still on your glistening center, thighs shaking and slick with yourself. Your red cheer top is still on, bunched up slightly, your stomach showing and quivering under his touch. 

He grips your thighs harder and spreads them wider, dragging you to the edge of the bed until you can feel his breath against your skin. His eyes never leave your pussy—pupils blown wide, jaw slack and lips parted like in awe. 

And then he dives in, no hesitation, no slow teasing or light licking. No, Joel Miller devours you. Like a man possessed.

His tongue flattens against your folds and drags up, slow and deep, tasting everything. Your head is thrown back at the feeling, a moan escaping you before you have the wherewithal to keep yourself quiet.

“Christ,” he mutters, mouth slick with you, “tastes better than I ever coulda’ dreamed, baby,”

Your hips buck up, and he throws an arm over your stomach, pinning you down.

“Nuh-uh, you stay still,” he growls, nose nudging your clit before his mouth wraps around it, sucking. His tongue sends your vision white. 

“Oh my–oh my god,” you gasp, crying out, hands clawing for his hair, nails scraping his scalp as he eats you out like it’s the last fucking supper. He moans into you, beard soaked and eyes hooded, watching you squirm. But just as your thighs begin to shake, your moans getting high and choked and frantic–

He stops. Your hands fall from his thick hair, gripping the sheets instead as you whimper. You open your eyes to look down at him, nearly sobbing at the loss.

“What’d I say about bad girls?” he asks, voice gravel and sin. 

“I’ll–I’ll be good,” you stammer, breathless, “I’ll be good, Mr. Miller, I swear–”

He nips the side of your thigh, and your thighs still shake with the aching tension lost from them. “Come on now, baby,” he purrs, “call me Joel. Think we’re past the formalities when your pussy’s soakin’ my face.”

Your face burns red hot, stomach tightening and flipping on itself at the deepness of his sex drunk voice.

“Please,” you whisper, “please, Joel, let me come.”

But he’s already pushing himself up, stroking his pulsing cock in one hand, eyes on the slick mess between your legs.

“No,” he says, voice rough, “not yet.”

You let out a soft whine, your legs still twitching, your body begging.

He climbs over you, slow and deliberate, crowding your space. He nudges you up the bed with the weight of his body, palms guiding you like you’re something delicate. His knees cage your thighs, and his hand finds your ribs, broad and warm and steadying. His thumb curls under the hem of your uniform top.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?” he says, and you’re surprised when it’s said so gently, even if his eyes hold a hunger so deep they’re nearly black. You nod, lifting your arms up, and he pulls it over you swiftly, throwing it to the side of the bed. His eyes fall to your chest, and his hand is back on you, splayed wide against your skin.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he whispers, breath ghosting over your pebbled breasts. You shiver, hips lifting unconsciously, and you feel the pulse of his hard cock against your thigh.

He leans in, taking your peaked nipple into his mouth, so warm and wet. Your back arches at the feeling of his tongue lapping over you, teeth grazing until he releases your breast with a soft pop, kissing between the valley until he finds the other nipple, treating it to the same gentle worship.

His lips move up to your throat then, slow, hot, the kind of open-mouth kiss that's more tongue than anything else. You gasp as he finds the crook in your neck, goosebumps rising as your back arches into him.

You feel his wide, open palms slide beneath you, one pressing into the small of your back, the other across your shoulders. You feel the shift in his body before he moves. His muscles tighten as he gathers his strength, and then he’s rolling you over. 

He turns smoothly, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of movement, his hands still wrapped around you. But as you find yourself on top of him, in his lap, you sit upright.

“You wanna come so badly, baby?” he murmurs. “Then take it.”

Your eyes go wide as you look down at him, palms splayed across his chest, feeling the heat and sweat slick over taut muscle. He’s burning beneath your hands, every breath you take ragged and shallow.

Whatever you had been expecting tonight, whatever you had thought would happen the more and more you goaded him, it wasn’t this. 

Joel Miller was filthy and delicious and feral. 

“Go on,” he says at your hesitation, “show me how much you like when your best friend’s daddy touches you.”

Your breath shudders out of you, his hands finding your hips and gently brushing his thumbs against your heated skin.

You reach down, moving your hips back to make space for your hand to wrap around the base of his cock. The moment your fingers make contact, his eyes flutter shut, his breath hissing out of him. You watch his face as you position yourself above him, teasing the head through your slick folds, dragging it up against your clit. 

You take a deep breath as his cock catches the notch of your entrance, his eyes flashing open at the sudden feeling of you sinking onto him. You roll your hips, adjusting to him, his hands tight against your hips. 

“Fuck,” he chokes.

The stretch of him as you glide down him slowly, gently, nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s too much, way too much. But it’s so perfect, the sheer girth and stretch of him making your eyes roll back. Your mouth falls open as you inch your way down, down down, until you’re fully sheathed over him, your hips meeting his. 

You sit there for a moment, rolling your hips a bit back and forth, around, letting yourself feel every vein, every nook and crevice of him, and when you look up at your face, a breathless little smile grows on your lips.

“This got you all worked up, Joel?” you purr, “All that grumpy ass attitude, you just needed this, didn’t you?”

You move again, adding a little bounce, and his jaw slackens, his grip tightening on you.

“Goddamn,” he breathes, nearly wrecked.

“You’re so easy, Mr. Miller,” you hum, rocking over him again, “all that control, that stoicism, just…gone.” 

He narrows his eyes, something dangerous flickering there. He bares his teeth, voice tight and low.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, growls,  “Keep runnin’ that slutty mouth of yours, see where it gets ya.”

You lean in close, hands moving to his hair, lacing your fingers through his thick locks as your lips press to his ear, “Where, Joel?” you whisper, “What’re you gonna do? Punish me?”

His grip on you shifts, he moves his hands up your body, mirroring your hands and pushing his through your hair, wrapping tight at the nape of your neck. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck. Your breath catches, somewhere between surprise and delight. Your pussy clenches around him at the feeling, and he groans beneath you.

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you?” he hisses, “I give you a little control, let you ride my dick, and you already have shit to say, huh?”

His hips thrust up hard, and you choke on a moan. The new angle makes you jolt as he drives into you, deep and unrelenting, hitting places he hadn't before.

You cry out when he keeps moving, hips grinding in steady, punishing strokes, each one pushing deeper, like he’s chasing something inside you only he knows how to reach.

“Fuck, Joel!” 

“There she is,” he says, lips kissing and teeth nipping at your jaw as he holds you in place by your hair, “there’s my filthy little girl. Pussy is so tight, practically drippin’ all over my cock. Still doesn’t stop that little mouth of yours, does it?”

You try to grind down on him, and he chuckles darkly, “You like the way my cock fill’s you, huh baby?” he mutters, voice thick, groaning at the feeling of you, “Like the way I stretch you, fill you up? S’like you were made for me, huh?”

You nod, your voice completely wrecked as you moan.

“Tell me..” 

Your cheeks burn, “Y-yeah,”

He tuts, fingers clinging harder to your hair, “Try again.”

“Feels so fucking—so fucking good, Joel,” you whisper, “please, please–want more,”

He hums in satisfaction, loosening his grip on your hair. Your neck aches, sore and stretched, but the second your eyes drop to his, his mouth is on yours.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low and rough. “Now ride me like you mean it.”

You sit back up, hips moving in slow, deliberate circles at first, testing what he likes, watching his eyes flicker with each shift and grind. Joel’s hands slide from your thighs to your waist, up your sides, palms rough as they settle there. 

“Look at you,” he says, “Ridin’ me so sweet now. Just needed a little direction, huh?”

You gasp as his hands drag up, thumbs brushing under your breasts before his palms cup them, fingers curling around your nipples. He rolls them slowly, tugging just enough to make your hips jolt, your mouth falling open in a broken moan.

“That’s it,” he groans, “Feel good?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Show me,”

You lift one hand from his chest, one still bracing against him for balance while the other slips between your legs. Your fingers trace around your lower lips, feeling them stretch around his cock until they slide up and find your clit. The little bundle of nerves is still slick and swollen from the edge he’d pulled you off, and you start to circle it, starting to slowly build up the pace as he watches.

“Jesus,” he mutters, hips pushing up into you, “Touchin’ yourself on my cock like a good girl.”

You whimper, the pressure building up again so easily as you watch his face. His dark hair is all mussed and sticking to his forehead with a wet sheen of sweat, eyes on you, barely blinking as he watches your fingers.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he pants, voice rough and strained. “Gonna soak me like that pretty pussy’s meant to?”

“Kiss me,” you blurt out.

His eyes flicker up to yours.

You slow your fingers, breath catching, heart pounding in your throat.

“Want you to kiss me again, Joel,” you whisper, trembling. “Please.”

Something shifts in his expression, his hand moving from your breast to your cheek, cradling your face so gently it nearly aches. You lean into him, nuzzling his wide, warm palm as he begins to sit up.

As he leans forward, his cock still buried inside you, he uses one hand to prop himself up while the other holds you, and he presses his lips to yours.

It’s not filthy this time. At least, not at first. At first, it’s just a gentle press of his lips, soft and tender against yours. But as you moan and rock against his cock, his hand moves into your hair, pulling you closer to him, and his tongue breaches the opening of your mouth. You kiss him back hungrily, his mouth tasting like something sweet and heady, like you. 

As your tongue slides against his, Joel groans softly. He shifts his hips, just slightly, enough for you to feel him inside you, a reminder, still hard and thick and pulsing.

You begin to move again, grinding yourself faster and faster, your walls beginning to tighten around him. You open your eyes when his lips fall from yours, his jaw slack and brows furrowed tight. You clench around him, and a guttural groan escapes from his throat.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he groans, then his eyes open, looking up at you, “come on now, baby. Can feel how badly she wants to come all over me. Let me feel it, please. Let me feel you come all over me.”

He meets every one of your thrusts now, cock reaching the deepest parts of your cervix, hands sliding down your back, guiding your movement, your hips, and you follow the rhythm instinctively. His cock hits an angle inside you that has you shrieking his name.

“There it is, baby, can feel it right there,” he chants, “come on now, give it to me.”

Your breath stutters, your hand holding onto his shoulder for dear life as your fingers work your clit faster and faster. 

Suddenly, your vision pops with stars, head tilting back, mouth held open in the perfect ‘o’ as you gush around him. Your orgasm crashes over you, sharp and overwhelming, your body clenching and shivering around him. 

He holds you through it, one arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other gripping your thigh as you twitch and shudder through the last pulses of your orgasm. His hips start to stutter—uncontrolled now, jerking deeper like his body’s no longer listening to him.

“F-Fuck—fuck, baby,” he pants, voice ragged and unraveling, “I’m—Jesus—I’m gonna—”

“Yes, Joel,” you breathe, voice wrecked and sweet in his ear, “come inside me.”

He falters, choking on a breath, still thrusting helplessly as your words wrap around him as he pulls back to look at you.

“Wh-What?”

“It’s okay,” you whisper again, voice low and urgent, “I have an IUD, come inside me, please,” 

His eyes widen, glassy, and stunned, but you keep going.

“Wanna feel you when I fall asleep,” you murmur, hips rocking gently into his, “when I wake up tomorrow. Want the reminder. Want it dripping out of me. Please, Joel.”

That’s it.

He lets go with a broken sound, the muscles in his abdomen tightening as he drives into you one last time—deep and hard and final. His cock throbs inside you, and he comes with a low, brutal groan into your neck, his whole body shaking against yours.

He stays buried deep, breath hitching in your ear as he presses his chest to yours, both of you slick and panting. His back finally hits the mattress, and he pulls you with him, your bodies still tangled, his arms never leaving your waist.

You collapse against his chest, cheek pressed over his racing heart, both of you trembling and silent for a long moment.

His hand finds the small of your back, tracing lazy circles against your damp skin as your breathing starts to settle. The room is quiet now, the storm of what just happened still buzzing faintly in the air between you. You shift slightly against his chest, and he pulls you closer.

Then, after a long pause, you hear him say, “You’re…you’re not drunk, are you?”

You huff a laugh against his collarbone “No.”

He waits, though, still uncertain.

“I had one drink,” you say, lifting your head to look at him. He lifts a brow at you.

“Okay, two.” You roll your eyes. “But I swear, not drunk. Not even tipsy.”

He nods, slow. His jaw’s tight again, but not in anger this time—more like restraint. Like he’s keeping something bigger from getting loose.

“Just didn’t wanna…” He clears his throat. “Didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and…”

You blink at him, “Regret this?” you ask, and your hand moves up to cup his scruffy jaw, “how could I regret somethin’ that I’ve been thinking about every time you so much as look at me?”

Joel stares at you.

Like really stares.

And you just smile a little harder, curling into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, covering his face with one hand, the other still cradling your hip. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You grin into his chest. “Might be a good way to go.”

And Joel—tired, wrecked, full of you—just laughs.

Really laughs.

And that’s how the night ends. Not in panic. Not in guilt.

But with your legs tangled up, and Joel Miller already falling for you.

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe accidentally puts barry on speaker..

warnings: enemies to ???, bitchy!kook!reader might make some of you frustrated but please just trust the process loll, teasing, flirty banter, majorrrr sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of absent parents/abandonment, arguing

a/n: this is part four of this mini series <3 i cannot believe i’m writing one more part to this before it’s over. thank you to everyone who continue to show their love and support, it truly means so much to me!!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 3.0k

“you’re going over to rafe’s and you didn’t even tell me?!” chanel shot up from her spot on your bed while you ran around your room trying to put an outfit together. “i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay?! all he said was that we got off on the wrong foot and he wants to start over. that’s it.” chanel arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “he sooo wants to fuck you, please tell me you’re not playing coy just to give him the benefit of the doubt.” you stayed silent, avoiding her gaze.

“y/n—”

“nothing is gonna happen between us. you and topper are dating now, so it would only be fair if me and rafe could at least try to get along since we’ll be around each other a lot more.” your best friend scoffed, not buying a single word that was coming out of your mouth. “don’t use me and topper as your excuse for giving rafe a chance, just say you’re interested in him! it’s totally fine if you are..” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you scanned your closet for a pair of heeled boots. “wow, chanel. i’m honestly offended that you think i’d ever give rafe a real shot.”

slipping on your shoes, you cursed under your breath as chanel watched you struggle with the zipper. “well, excuse me,” she strutted off, plopping down on your bed once again, “i just thought since you were totally eye fucking him out on the golf course the other day that you’d at least have agreed because there was some kind of attraction there.” you huffed. of course she’d bring that up. “i may have called him every single name in the book, but i never said he wasn’t handsome, alright? anyone with eyes would tell you the same thing.” you rolled your eyes once you heard her cackle. “whateverrr!”

one hour and three outfit changes later, and you found yourself posing for chanel’s camera as she snapped pictures of you in your sexy getup. “it should be a crime that you look this hot and you’re just going to rafe’s house. like he seriously needs to take you to the mainland and show you off or something.” you were quick to grab your purse and make your way downstairs once you saw that you were already running thirty minutes late. “will you be here when i get back?” you asked her, spritzing some perfume in the curve of your neck. “uhh, duh! i’m gonna need all the dirty details..”

you took that as your cue to leave. “not happening!” you called out, making your way down to the car out front. chanel waited until you got in before stepping back inside. the drive wasn’t long, considering rafe only lived about eight minutes away from you. it wasn’t until you were standing in front of rafe’s door that you realized you probably should’ve asked for his number back when you two talked at the country club. oh, god. you two haven’t even had any kind of communication since then.

what if he wasn’t home?

..or worse; what if he completely forgot about the whole thing and you were standing out here like a total idiot?

“this is stupid..” you whispered, looking back to see if your car was still there. before you could overthink, you stepped back once you heard the door unlock, the hardwood opening up to reveal rafe in a collared shirt that made his biceps look like they were going to burst through the fabric. “i thought you stood me up there for a minute.” he moved aside, motioning for you to come in before shutting the door behind you. “i almost did..” rafe snorted at your words, shaking his head before taking the view of you in.

“you look— wow..” you watched as his eyes raked down your figure, his jaw ticking once he saw how revealing your dress was. “you like it?” you turned around, looking back at him through your lashes. swallowing thickly, rafe didn’t say a word as he lead you two over to the living room with his hand resting in the small of your back. “for someone who swore they weren’t trying to sleep with me, the candles aren’t really convincing..” you looked around his set up, the living room being illuminated by the soft flickers of candle flames along with a bottle of wine and two glasses that sat in the middle of the coffee table.

“oh, so you’re saying i have a chance?” rafe sat you down, wasting no time in pouring you both a drink. crossing one leg over the other, you let your dress ride up your thighs before humming. “mmm, no.” rafe sighed, handing you a glass before settling in next to you. “we’ll see about that.” you ignored the way your stomach flipped once rafe draped an arm across your shoulders, your cheeks heating at how close he was. taking a sip from your glass, you glanced at him briefly before relaxing in his hold.

silence fell over you two and you swore rafe could hear your heart beating out of your chest. “am i tripping, or are you nervous right now?” you laughed, the sound making you inwardly cringe. “you wish, ‘cameron.” rafe smiled at your obvious facade. he could see right through you. “it’s kinda hard to tell,” he lied, “i mean— you show up to my place looking like this, i’d assume the last thing you could feel right now is nervous.” his mouth was right next to your ear, the bass of his voice making you squirm in your seat.

“that’s your problem,” you breathed out shakily, “you’re always just assuming things.” rafe tongued his cheek, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “speaking of that..” he trailed off, “i know i already apologized to you last time we talked, but i want you to know that i truly do regret speaking about you in a negative light.” you knew he was being sincere by the way he was looking at you. “it’s fine,” you waved him off, “it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me a bitch. ‘spoiled little brat’ isn’t a new one either, i just wish people understood that even that title comes with a cost.” rafe’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“what do you mean by that?” the last time this same exact topic came up, you shut down and put your defenses back up once you realized the conversation was veering towards your relationship, or lack there of, with your parents. you were so tired of being misunderstood, you decided that you’d just let rafe know about the very things you became accustomed to hiding. “i’m still paying for everything that i have and everything that i continue to buy, just not in the way that you might think..”

“how then?” you closed your eyes for a moment. there was no coming back from this. “my parents just give me everything because they feel guilty— guilty for not being there.. like ever.” you laughed incredulously. “not there?” rafe repeated, “your parents have their own column in kildare’s newspaper, they have to be here.” you shook your head, taking another drink from the wine in your glass. “no, they don’t.. i haven’t seen or heard from them in eight months.” rafe’s eyes widened. “what? well where the hell are they?!” he spoke up.

“it’s ironic. they actually bought another house on the mainland and didn’t tell me shit about it. i found out a while back when i opened the congratulatory letter from their realtor. ‘guess they haven’t had a chance to change their postal address yet.” rafe took a minute to put your words together, his arm leaving your shoulders so he could rub his temples. “so let me get this straight,” he started, “you’ve been all by yourself in that empty house of yours for months now, and in order for your parents to ‘make up’ lost time, they just give you money so that they don’t feel bad for essentially abandoning their daughter?” you winced as soon as you heard it.

you hadn’t come to terms with the ‘a’ word just yet, though it’s been lingering in the back of your mind since you were a little girl. “i don’t know about ‘abandoning’ per say, they still support me..” your voice cracked and you hated it. the sound drew rafe’s attention immediately. “uh, yeah— with money. but what else?” he scoffed. “what else could i possibly need? in their minds; i have it all. which i kind of do, but it all means nothing at the end of the day when i have a dining table that can sit twenty people and i’m the only one sitting at it.” your last sentence hit particularly close to home for rafe, especially since he has spent countless evenings eating dinner by himself at his own oversized table.

he could see the hurt written all over your face. you two weren’t so different after all. “i’m sorry.” rafe’s voice barely came out above a whisper, his hand finding your knee as you shook your head. “don’t be. i’ve stopped the pity party a long time ago,” you cleared your throat, “please say something about you now because i don’t think i could handle being the only one in the hot seat.” rafe’s mind started reeling as he was unsure of what to say.

“uhm, well— since we’re on the topic of fucked up parents..”

for the next hour and a half, rafe gave you the full rundown of him and his dad’s relationship, not leaving out a single detail as you listened to him intently. “as much as i wanted to make my dad proud of me, everything i did was never enough for him. i was a fuck up for a long time but i stepped up when he couldn’t and he never recognized that.” you and rafe had long since forgotten about your wine glasses, and were now taking turns drinking from the actual bottle itself. “if he hated me then, he would hate me even more now.” he sighed, leaning all the way back into the cushions of the sofa.

you blinked once you saw him manspread, the alcohol taking its effect as it ran through your system. “why?” your voice came out higher than usual, the sound being a dead giveaway that you were now officially tipsy. “because.. i don’t have my family together the way he would’ve wanted. rose, my dad’s wife, took my little sister to an undisclosed location and deactivated her phone so it’s impossible for me to have direct communication with her, and sarah ran off without telling me any details, so she could be pretty much anywhere, and yeah, that sums everything up.”

you stared at the side of rafe’s face, his features being highlighted by the soft light flickering in the room. in your current position you could feel rafe’s chest rise and fall with each breath, the warmth of his body against your own making you feel fuzzy inside. rafe had his hand resting comfortably on the side of your thigh, your legs draped across his lap as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “it sounds like we’re just lonely people.” you whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. oddly enough, rafe didn’t expect you to make him feel this comfortable so fast.

while he was sure it was the alcohol that made you lighten up and actually cling to him, he realized quickly that he liked feeling you close. “you know.. i could surround myself with all of my friends, go to parties where the living room is filled to the fucking brim, and yet, right now is the first time i can genuinely say that i don’t feel alone with you right here next to me.” your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. you didn’t realize just how bad you needed to be understood by someone until now.

you don’t know when, but you found yourself leaning into him, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you towards his lips. you couldn’t believe this was happening, sober or not, you’ve known all along that the bickering and fighting was building up just for this very moment.

..and then his phone rang.

you were less than an inch away from each other, both of you freezing right before your lips could meet. “fuck.” he pulled away, making you purse your lips together as he took the device out of his pocket. following his line of vision, you looked down at the contact name. barry. your eyebrows knitted in confusion. who the hell could that be, and why did they have to call right this second? “shit, i gotta take this,” he cursed under his breath, “i’ll be right back. promise.” you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

it’s fine, you needed to reapply your lipgloss anyways.

out of habit, rafe put his old friend on speaker, the volume loud enough for you to hear the unfamiliar voice from the kitchen. “what.” rafe sounded irritated once he spoke into the receiver.

“country club!” you felt your heart drop at the name, “where the fuck have you been? you’re too ‘rich boy’ to swing by and drink a beer on the cut?” your stomach twisted as you felt your blood run cold.

country club. the cut. your past conversations with your so called ‘mystery’ man ran through your head, everything that you once suspected now coming to fruition. oh, god, how could you have missed all of the signs? the night you two both went on a date.. the same date where you sent him nudes in the bathroom of his own boat. his little ‘cute skirt.’ comment after you texted him saying that you were wearing one in hopes for him to find you somewhere. suddenly you felt like the room was getting smaller, your sanity hanging on by a single thread.

no, you had to be overthinking this. surely, rafe couldn’t be your guy. if he was, that means he has known who you are behind the screen for who knows how long? just as you stood up, rafe came back into the living room. “sorry about that, it was nothing—” you cut him off, “country club?” he froze. it wasn’t until he saw the mortified look on your face that he realized he made the grave mistake of putting barry’s call on speaker. eyeing the front door behind him, rafe lunged for you the second you tried to leave the living room.

“y/n—” he grabbed your shoulders, your eyes watering out of embarrassment. “you can’t be him.” you shook your head as he backed you up into the wall. “i am, though,” he took ahold of your wrists so you could stop thrashing against him, “i am him.” you felt a shiver run down your spine at the confirmation. “and you’re you. you’re mine.” you scoffed, turning your head away from his view. “let go of me.” rafe didn’t budge, your frustration only growing.

“i found out you were my girl after our date on the druthers. the same necklace, the nails.. the things you’ve said to me in person being repeated over the phone. i knew it was you.” you whimpered, still trying to get out of his grip. “i’m not your girl, don’t call me that.” rafe smiled, his broad build towering over you with ease. “you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. in case you forgot, we both did some things.”

“shut the fuck up.” you finally managed to push him away, your hands flying to pull the hem of your dress down. “why would you go on without telling me anything, don’t you realize how fucking stupid i must feel right now?!” you cried out. “i wanted you to find out once you felt ready to, okay?! what happened right now was a mistake on my part, i’m sorry!”

“there’s no ‘me and you’, i’m not yours, and you aren’t mine. this should’ve never happened.” rafe hated how those words sounded coming out of your mouth. “the switch up is crazy.” he laughed, shaking his head. “just five minutes ago you were ready to kiss me, and right before that we spent nearly two hours discussing our differences and being vulnerable with each other. now what?” you let out a breath. “we would never work. let’s just leave it at that—” rafe was already disagreeing with you before you could finish your sentence.

“i won’t just ‘leave’ it. i can’t.” he stepped closer. “you’re saying we’ll never work, but you won’t even try.” rafe scoffed, “who’s stopping us? is this like an ego thing? say the word and i’ll set you straight right now.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your body reacted to his words. “you really sat there in my face and acted clueless..” you glared at him, “you know things about me that no one else— not even my best friend, knows about,” you whispered, “this is too much for me right now.”

sniffling, you felt relief wash over you once you heard a honk outside. “don’t leave,” rafe pulled you from walking to the front door, “please, we could figure something out.” without another word, you left, rafe’s voice calling out to you with each step you got closer to the car. you were able to compose yourself before you got home, thankful that chanel was knocked out cold so you wouldn’t have to recap the shitty night you just had.

taking your phone out of your purse, you were met with multiple messages from rafe himself.

[11:44 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m not letting you run away from this.

[11:45 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : we see each other everyday y/n, we’re gonna have to talk this out at some point.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m sorry.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : you have every reason to be mad at me, i could understand that.

[11:48 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : look. i have to go on the mainland for some business stuff but i’ll be staying at the ‘paradise’ hotel for the next week. i’ll be there any time after eight, i’ll text you my room details when i get checked in. please just come see me.

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[kbwrites]

Devotion

synopsis: Sukuna discovers Uraume’s hidden desire for his wife. Amused and intrigued, he twists their devotion into a dangerous game of seduction and control, where loyalty, lust, and power collide..

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f!reader, nsfw, slight Uraume x reader, power play, sukuna being sadistic, voyeurism

⚝wc: 3.2k

⚝a/n: guys am I slowly turning into a Sukuna glazer? Is that what’s happening?

“Uraume.”

“Yes, master?”

“Have you had…lovers before?”

Ryomen leaned forward over the dining table, his crimson eyes sharp with mischief, resting his chin lazily on his hand. One of his upper arms reached for the delicate porcelain cup, lifting it to his lips as he took a sip, all while gauging Uraume’s reaction with predatory precision. Uraume, ever composed, took a deep breath—perhaps steadier than expected, but not beyond Sukuna’s notice.

“No, my lord. I am only loyal to you.”

Sukuna could only chuckle darkly at his most trusted advisor’s iron resolve.

“Surely you’ve been attracted to someone before.”

It’s subtle, but Sukuna noticed how Uraume’s body tensed at the question.

“Thats…”

His eyebrow quirks in amusement, the thought of them finding interest in anything other than servitude absolutely intriguing.

“Oh?” He purrs “Tell me Uraume, who’s captured your interest?”

Uraume pauses, their mouth slightly agape about to answer until the doors to the dining hall swing open.

“Good morning~” You yawn strutting into the grand hall. Ryomen’s ears perk up at the sound of your voice. You were draped in a black silk robe, loosely fitting to reveal your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way Uraume suddenly went rigid, their spine straightening as though an unseen force had pulled them taut.

“My lady..” Uraume says quietly, bowing deeply, far lower than usual. There was a slight tremor in their voice, one that would be imperceptible to anyone else, but to Sukuna, it was as clear as day.

Something flickered in Sukuna’s eyes—something dark, cunning, and hungry. He was beginning to connect the threads. Uraume’s abnormal stillness, their faltering words, their body language—how had he not seen it before?

As a light bulb switched off in his mind. Sukuna’s eyes darken as his mind swirls with ideas.

“Good morning, peach.” he purred, his voice a rich, velvety drawl as he pushed his chair back slightly, creating space between his thick thighs. You settle between him, his lower arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your fingers plucked a few of the fruits, and with a mischievous smile, you lifted them to his lips. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed as he accepted your offering, his lips brushing your fingertips as he took the grapes from your hand, savoring the taste.

“Did you sleep well?” he hummed, his voice a rumble that reverberated through your body, his grip on your waist tightening.

Uraume was trying so hard to maintain their composure, but Sukuna was a master at unraveling even the most tightly wound strings. He didn’t miss the lingering gaze, the subtle admiration—the longing in Uraume’s eyes as they glanced at you.

You smiled softly, nodding as you fed him another grape. “I did.”

The room felt charged with an unspoken tension. Sukuna’s gaze flitted between you and Uraume.

“Uraume was just about to tell us something…” Sukuna chuckled, his voice a deep, velvet purr dripping with dark amusement.

“Weren’t you, Uraume?”

The words rolled off his tongue like a challenge, low and sultry, and Uraume flinched ever so slightly. Their mouth opened, but no sound emerged, their composure threatening to crack under the weight of Sukuna’s relentless gaze.

Uraume’s adams apple bobbed as they swallowed hard, their hands clenching at their sides. They looked as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to jump or retreat. Their gaze flicked to yours—full of something raw and unspoken—before they quickly averted their eyes again, their face flushing.

“Yes…” Uraume managed, voice tight. “The preparations for the festival next week are complete. I thought it would be a good outing for you, my lady.”

You perked up, Ryomen knew how much you loved going outside the castle. And even though he despised being among the general public he never chastised you for it.

He shifted in his chair, his arm still wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer against him.

“An outing…” Sukuna mused, his voice low and thoughtful, malicious intent danced in his eyes. “How delightful.”

“Would you come this time Ryo?” You asked, eyes turning up to him with that innocent, pleading look he could never refuse.

His gaze flicks up to Uraume. He saw the way Uraume’s shoulders tensed, the way they remained painfully still. Sukuna could feel Uraume’s silent plea—don’t come. Don’t make this harder than it already is. But Sukuna, ever the sadist, felt the opposite.

His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he looked down at you. “How could I say no when you ask so sweetly, peach?” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

༺═────────────═༻

As the days slipped by, Sukuna’s amusement only deepened. What had once seemed like gestures of loyalty and respect from Uraume now held a different meaning altogether. The signs were there—delicate and unspoken, but there nonetheless.

He watched closely, sharper now, how Uraume’s hands lingered just a moment longer than necessary when adjusting your robes, or the way their fingers brushed your skin with a softness that would have seemed impossible for a being so devoted to carrying out the King of Curses’ bidding. Uraume, so effortlessly deadly, became something else entirely when in your presence—gentle, careful. As though you were made of glass. And Sukuna saw it all.

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna knew how captivating his wife was. You were beauty incarnate—graceful, magnetic, and utterly enchanting. He had always reveled in the way your presence could command a room, how your smile could make the world feel warmer. It wasn’t lost on him how others admired you, but he had never paid it much attention. You were his. That had never been up for debate.

The thought of his most trusted advisor being captivated by you was both amusing and intriguing. To think that Uraume, who had stood by his side through countless battles, who had remained steadfast and loyal through the bloodiest of wars, was not immune to your charm—it was almost laughable. But it was more than that. It was a game, a deliciously cruel game that Sukuna couldn’t resist playing.

༺═────────────═༻

It was bath time, the air thick with steam, curling up in soft tendrils around the marble walls of the grand bathhouse. You and Sukuna sat on opposite ends, your legs grazing one another beneath the surface. Uraume carefully washed your hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure when scratching your scalp.

Sukuna watched from his end of the tub, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he observed the way Uraume tended to you—so gentle, so precise. It was the kind of attention a lover would give, not merely an attendant.

You, of course, were oblivious. Your eyes were closed, soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as Uraume’s deft fingers massaged your scalp. The warmth of the bath relaxing you, Sukuna could see the soft smile tugging at your lips, unaware of the turmoil that brewed just beneath the surface.

“Uraume?” You question softly “Did those oils you ordered from Kuroshiki arrive yet? I think Ryo would like them today.”

“Yes…” Uraume says snapping out of their daze “I will fetch them right away my lady.”

“Bathing with fragrance oil? You really do spoil me” Sukuna says smirking.

You leaned closer to him, your fingers lightly trailing along the edge of the tub as you spoke, voice soft and inviting. “You seem… distracted as of late, my king,” you murmured, “I wish you would tell me what was occupying your mind.

A dark chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position as his crimson eyes traveled over your face, lingering on the way your wet hair clung to your skin and how the water caressed your naked form beneath the surface.

“My dear,” he purred, his voice low and smooth, “If I’m distracted, it’s only because of you.” He let the words hang in the air, his gaze darkening as he watched your reaction, the tension between you palpable.

Your lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, and you raised a brow, tilting your head as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest.

Ryomen’s hand shot out, snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your breath catching in your throat as you found yourself pressed up against his chest. His other hand trailed lazily through the water, his fingers skimming along your thigh just beneath the surface. Your heart raced, the warmth of the bath and the heat of his touch intertwining, making it difficult to think clearly.

“And you, my queen…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled with a dark edge, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as he spoke. “What has been occupying your mind?”

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips graze your skin, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you. You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck, your lips parting as you replied, your voice soft and laced with desire. “Only you, my king. Always you.”

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I like to know where your thoughts are.”

Just as the moment seemed to deepen, the door to the bathhouse creaked open. Uraume entered with their usual calm, carrying a small, ornate jar of oils. The soft clink of the jar being set down on the table was like a loud intrusion into your private world. Uraume cleared their throat, the sound sharp in the silence.

“My lady, my lord,” Uraume announced quietly, their eyes briefly meeting yours before darting away, their cheeks flushing slightly with the strain of maintaining composure.

You pull yourself away from your husband back to your side of the tub, smiling politely.

“Thank you Uraume.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he observed Uraume. His earlier pleasure was replaced by a simmering frustration, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the timing of the intrusion.

They bowed respectfully, eyes fixed on the floor as they took their leave. The door clicked shut behind them, and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

As the two of you settled back, Sukuna’s thoughts were already racing ahead. He decided he would push Uraume’s resolve to the breaking point, manipulate their emotions, and watch with dark satisfaction as their carefully constructed façade crumbled. Sukuna was eager to see how far he could push his most loyal servant before they fell apart.

The morning light seeped through the dark curtains of your shared bedroom. Sukuna sat up, his muscular back pressed against the dark mahogany headboard as he watched you.

His eyes, sharp and intent, traced the curve of your body as you slept. The way your body stirred against the black silk sheets, the fabric of your sleep robe slipped off your shoulders—revealing more and more of your skin with every rise and fall of your chest. His own arousal growing at the mere sight of you.

He leaned down to you, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone. One arm snaked up to your chest, slipping under your robe to caress your breast. You whimpered in your sleep, squirming under his large hands.

“Ryo?” You question, eyes still closed as you feel the warmth of his palms set fire to your cool skin. Your body responding to him almost instinctively, heat pooling in your core as his touch deepened, awakening a familiar hunger within you.

“Awake already, peach?” he murmured against your skin. The sound of his voice alone—low, gravelly, and undeniably seductive—vibrated through you, making your breath hitch.

You hum as your back instinctively arches into his touch.

“Don’t you have… ahhh. Meetings in the morning?”

“Mmm.” he purred in acknowledgment, peeling the robe off of your body. “It can wait. There’s something far more… compelling… that’s caught my attention.”

Your body shivers slightly as Ryomen removes the covers, he drinks in the sight before him. Removing his mouth from your neck, before dipping his head between your legs.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your dripping cunt. Ryomen flattens his tongue, the wet muscle circling your bundle of nerves. His two upper arms hold your thighs in place, nails digging into the plush flesh. The room fills with your sleepy moans and whimpers as The king of curses slurps up your essence. He latches onto your clit, sucking while his tongue swirls.

You grab tufts of his fluffy pink hair between your manicured fingers, tugging gently. He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, smirking against your cunt as you grind against his face.

You felt the pressure building in your core, Sukuna felt your heart quicken—continuing his ministrations. Just as you felt the dam about to break.

Knock knock

Ryomen let out a low growl, the vibration rumbling through your cunt. He reluctantly tore his face away from between your legs.

“What is it?” His voice laced with venom.

“It’s me, my lord.”

He pauses, gaze flicking between the door and your panting form. An idea pops into his mind.

“Come in.” Sukuna muses, his voice smooth and deliberate.

Your eyes shot open, widening in shock as the doorknob slowly began to turn. Panic flooded your veins, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what he intended. You tried to push against him, but Sukuna’s grip was ironclad, his body pinning yours down against the silken sheets.

“Ryo, please!” you whispered urgently, your heart racing as you felt the weight of the moment closing in on you, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. But your pleas only seemed to excite him further. Sukuna’s smirk deepened, a cruel chuckle escaping his lips.

Uraume stepped into the room, eyes respectfully downcast, holding a scroll of parchment.

“My lord, I—”

But the words died on their lips the moment they finally looked up. Uraume stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the scene before them.

“Ah, Uraume!” Sukuna drawled, his voice full of amusement. “You may speak.”

“I-if this is not a good time—“

Ryomen chuckles, his hand snaking up to give your tit a gentle squeeze. Rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You bite back a whimper.

“Nonsense! Continue.” He says, gaze never leaving you.

Uraume glances at you, their eyes raking over your form. They had dressed and bathed you countless times. However nothing could quite compare to the way your skin glistened with sweat, chest heaving as you tried to regain a steady heartbeat. They way your eyes were nearly black, glazed over with pleasure. They shouldn’t feel this way… they couldn’t and yet it was impossible to ignore the growing heat, the tightening coil as Uraume saw you in your most vulnerable state.

“Speak, Uraume,” Sukuna commanded again, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He relished in the discomfort radiating from his loyal servant, the way their breath quickened and their hands trembled ever so slightly at their sides.

“U-Uraume… you don’t have to listen to him.” You manage to mumble, trying to separate your rational mind from the pleasure your husbands fingers were giving you.

“Oh? But darling Uraume wants to see this.” He purrs. “Don’t you Uraume?”

They want to go, to turn on their heels and walk—no run quickly, and far away from the both of you. But every movement—every verbal protest failed to ever come to fruition. All Uraume could do in that moment. Was watch.

Watch as you writhed under their master, as your supple skin they so tirelessly cared for was marked. As your aching cunt was toyed with, as the saccharine moans fell from your plump lips.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you glance at Uraume, who watched intently as Ryomen gathered the wetness from your folds and his index finger was slowly swallowed by your walls. The lewd noises your sloppy cunt uttered as he pumped slowly into you—like sweet music. He grinned maliciously as he felt you clench around his finger. Despite your earlier protest—he knew you were enjoying this as much as him.

You bit down on your lip, stifling your moans as he curled his finger up to your sweet spot.

“Don’t hold back, peach…” He hums as he inserts another finger. “Let them hear how good it feels.”

Uraume’s breath hitches again, body tensing even more as they watch your every move from the sidelines. Sukuna’s gaze falls on your hand, gripping the silk sheets for support. His eyebrow quirks as another idea pops into his head.

“Hold her hand, Uraume.” He commands softly. Their eyes widen briefly before following his command. Uraume’s hand wraps gently around yours, intertwining fingers. Their breath is heavier now, cheeks flushed with color.

You finally make eye contact with Uraume, looking up at them through half-lidded eyes. You had never seen them like this, such hunger in their dark pink gaze. Looking upon you with pure lust. It made your cunt clench even more around your husband’s fingers.

Ryomen continues his assault on your sopping hole, pumping in and out relentlessly. Every time his curled digits brushed against your g-spot you feel the all too familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.

“Ryo! m’close…” You whine softly looking down at him. He only grins in response glancing at his advisor.

“Don’t tell me.” He growls “Tell Uraume how you feel.”

Tears now pricked your eyes, the overwhelming sensation proving too much for you. You look up at Uraume through wet lashes.

“U-Uraume… I’m fuckkk gonna cum!” You whimper, they don’t respond—instead squeezing your hand tighter as they struggle to breathe.

Sukuna smirks as his wife and most trusted attendant share the intimate eye contact. His own cock twitching in excitement.

“Uraume…” he hums in mockery “She’s right on the edge, should we give her what she wants?”

Their eyes flit between you and Sukuna, feeling dizzy with pleasure. You looked so needy, so desperate for release. They couldn’t deny you any longer. They needed to see you come undone.

“P-please Uraume.” You choke out—hiccuping as fat tears rolled down your face. “Can’t take much more!”

Uraume lets out a shaky breath, their gaze never leaving yours.

“Y-yes! Please my lord!” Their voice almost matching your own desperation.

And with one more thrust of his thick fingers your body shakes. You cry out in pleasure. Writhing as Uraume’s nails dig into the flesh of your hand, holding your hand in a vice grip. A gasp escaping their lips.

Sukuna slowly removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to Uraume’s face teasingly before sucking them clean of your slick. A silent reminder that you would always be his.

Sukuna and Uraume fix their gaze on you, sprawled out on the sheets, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He glances over at them, noticing how their lips were parted. How their eyes were glued to you. As if they dared to blink you would disappear.

“She’s beautiful… isn’t she Uraume?” He purrs, lightly tracing the curves of your body.

“Yes master… she is… perfect.”

[fireinmoonshot]

touchy | joaquin torres x reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader Summary: Joaquin has a thing where he always likes to have a hand on you whenever you're together – holding your waist, holding your hand, a hand resting on your thigh. You finally decide to confront him about why. Warnings: Mentions of food, a kind of spicy make-out scene. Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I had this idea and I just had to write it. It's shorter than my other Joaquin fics but I had so much fun writing it and I really just wanted to get something else for Joaquin out for you guys! Please send in requests for him if you have any! 💗

One thing you never expected when you started dating Joaquin Torres was how touchy the man was – there was barely any time when the two of you were together when he wasn’t touching you in some way. 

It surprised you at first. He never came across as that kind of person. He was the definition of a Golden Retriever boyfriend. But then you’d be standing with him at a party and you’d feel his hand wrap around your waist, or whenever you had to cross the road, he’d hold your hand (not unlike your parents used to do when you were a child), or when you were at home watching a movie on the couch, his hand would rest on your thigh.

After several months of this, you finally decided to ask him why.

“Joaquin, can I ask you something?” You call from where you’re sitting in the living room, your eyes flickering up from the book that was on your lap – the one you’ve been trying to read and failing, owing to the fact that your boyfriend has been strutting around your apartment shirtless ever since he got out of the shower.

“Course you can, angel,” he calls back from the kitchen.

Out of the two of you, Joaquin is the cook of the family. You hadn’t trusted him in the kitchen at first – he had always seemed the type of person to accidentally chop off a finger because he was too distracted. But so far, no such accidents had occured and he was much better at making a delicious meal than you were.

You were quick to close your book and get up from the couch, padding through the hallway into the kitchen to see him standing at the bench, chopping something up on a cutting board in front of him – still irritatingly shirtless.

“Cooking shirtless is dangerous, you know,” you say, announcing your presence. 

His eyes flicker up towards you. “For you or for me?”

You give him a look. “For you, pretty boy. I’m not the one holding the knife.” 

Joaquin grins at you before putting the knife down, wiping his hands on the cloth on the bench beside him and grabbing the apron hanging over the back of one of your bar stools. “Should I put this on then? Someone clearly isn’t enjoying the show.” 

“Baby,” you roll your eyes at him jokingly, crossing the room and snatching the apron out of his hands. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant you could get burned by oil or slip and cut yourself or… well… there are plenty of dangers to cooking shirtless.” 

Joaquin smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest so you’re pressed together. “Angel, all those things you just listed are also things that could happen to me if I were wearing a shirt. You know that, right?”

You can’t help the way you pout at him. “Not my point, Joaquin.”

He grins and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Was that what you were coming in here to talk about?” He asks, his thumb swiping gently back and forth over your waist. 

“No, actually,” you hum. “I was coming here to talk about this.” You motion in-between the two of you, at the contact between your bodies. You’re not not a fan of it – of course you love it – but it does amuse you, the fact that your boyfriend always wants to have a hand on you at all times. 

Joaquin raises his eyebrows. “We playin’ charades? Am I meant to guess?”

You laugh a little. “No, silly. This. The way I walked into the kitchen and you swept me up into your arms immediately. The way you always have a hand on my back when we walk somewhere. The way you put your hand on my thigh when we’re on the couch. The way you’re touching me all the time.” 

Irritatingly, your words have the opposite effect than intended and Joaquin steps away from you, removing his hand from your waist. You immediately miss the warmth of his body, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and almost reach back out for him. 

“You don’t like it?” Joaquin asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

You hate the look on his face – the way he looks like a wounded puppy. His usually playful eyes look sad, full of fear and you can read his expression immediately. He thinks that by doing these things, he’s made you uncomfortable.

“Baby, no – I love it!” You attempt to rectify the situation. “I just was curious about why.”

Unable to keep looking at his sad puppy dog eyes anymore, you step forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands gently. His hands tentatively rest on your waist, as if he’s afraid you’re going to move away at any second but he simply can’t help but to touch you, just a little.

“You’re so touchy and I love it, Joaquin. I love having your hands on me all the time, I swear. Just now when you took your hands off my waist it was like… like it was suddenly winter and I was freezing cold without them. I just wanna know why you do it,” you explain further, making sure you keep eye contact with him.

Joaquin frowns a little. “I guess I never really thought about it,” he replies. “I think I kinda just do it without meaning to. I just love the feeling of having my hands on you, feeling your warmth, reminding myself that you’re beside me. And I mean…” He clears his throat. “Have you seen yourself, angel? Why would I not wanna touch you at any given opportunity?”

It’s like his confidence makes a return to his body, then. His grip on your waist gets tighter and he pulls you closer, forcing you to drop your hands from his face. They rest on his shoulders instead as he backs you up a little so you’re leaning against the counter. His body is pressed against yours again, like it was only minutes ago. The warmth you’d missed before falls over you like a sheet of pure comfort.

You can’t keep the smile off your face at his words and actions. “That’s kinda cute, Joaquin,” you admit. “That you do it without thinking about it. Like I said, I love the feeling of you having your hands on me too.”

“Cute?” Joaquin looks at you with raised eyebrows. “You think I’m cute?”

It’s hard not to smile at his tone. “Yeah, adorable. You’re like a little puppy. You were looking at me before with the most puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen on a person. You looked so sad, I just wanted to pick you up and–”

Before you can finish speaking, Joaquin cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. You moan at the sudden feeling of his lips, the feeling of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. The way that his hands grip your waist tighter, one of them roaming up your back to grasp at the back of your neck so he can kiss you deeper.

The edge of the counter digs into your back but you barely even notice the feeling. One of your hands moves to run through Joaquin’s hair – it’s short, but long enough for you to grip, the other on his back. The feeling of his muscles against your palm only makes you want to kiss him more. The last thing you want to do is break apart for air.

Your breath hitches as he squeezes your waist again, forcing your lips apart. Both of you are breathing heavily, though the break doesn’t last long. Joaquin wastes no time in kissing you again, but this time his lips move from yours to your jaw. He presses soft, gentle kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck. You tilt your head backwards, giving him better access. When your hand grasps onto his hip, he gasps a little and you can’t help but smile at the sound. 

“See?” You mutter breathlessly, tilting your head forward again to meet his eyes. “I told you that cooking while shirtless was dangerous.”

Joaquin laughs at that, a gorgeous smile finding its way onto his face. You look at him, at the sweat on his forehead, the look of lust and love in his eyes, the way his chest moves up and down quickly, his breath still heavy from your small make out session. He’s easily the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on… and he’s all yours.

He moves his hands down to your waist again and before you can do anything about it, he’s lifting you up so you’re sitting on the counter and pushing your legs apart so he can stand in-between them. At this angle, you’re basically the same height.

“I see no problems here, angel,” he flashes that gorgeous grin again before messily pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls away quickly though, much to your disappointment. “Now that we’ve established that I’m not cute, I am going to continue cooking you dinner. I’ll let you go back to your book.”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, turning to watch him as he returns to the cutting board. “I have a much better view right here than I do in the living room, baby. Besides, someone has to supervise you to make sure you stay safe while cooking like that… it’s bound to be a hard job but I’m pretty certain I’m up to the challenge...”

[strawberrymatchawhore]

p power

rafe cameron

“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”

summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother

warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol

you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.

“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.

“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”

“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.

“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.

“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.

“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.

“i-”

“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.

AT THE PARTY

you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.

you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.

“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.

“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.

oh shit

“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.

“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.

this is what he deserves

sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.

oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.

“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.

“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.

“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.

……..

“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.

“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.

“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.

“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.

"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.

"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.

your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.

"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.

"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.

the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.

"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.

"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.

"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.

you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.

"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.

"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.

he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.

“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.

"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.

"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.

"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.

"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.

"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.

the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.

"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.

"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.

"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.

"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.

"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.

"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."

"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.

"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.

rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.

"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.

"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"

"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.

"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.

"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.

"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.

"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.

"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.

"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.

"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.

rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?

*attached video*

"shes busy rn bro"

5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.

why is he spam texting me?

"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.

“what the fuck is this rafe?!"

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted #2

Danny lounged on the couch in the Batcave, his feet propped up as he casually flipped through some of Bruce’s files. Damian stood nearby, arms crossed, scowling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian huffed. “I am Father’s heir. It is my birthright.”

Danny smirked, glancing at him over the top of the tablet. “Hate to break it to you, little bro, but I’m older. By all of three minutes, but hey, it still counts.”

“You have no proof,” Damian snapped, his voice sharp.

“Actually,” Tim interjected, walking in with a file in hand, “it’s right here. Clockwork dropped the records off yesterday. Danny’s technically the firstborn.”

Damian’s face twisted into a mix of shock and outrage. “This is preposterous! I trained for years in the League to be the heir. He—” Damian gestured at Danny, who was now grinning smugly, “—is a half-ghost nomad raised by peasants!”

“Whoa, peasants?” Danny said, holding up his hands. “I’ll have you know I was raised by two highly educated ghost hunters who built portals to alternate dimensions in their basement. So technically, I was raised by nerds.”

Jason, leaning against the wall, barked out a laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”

Things escalated when Danielle made her debut in Gotham. She’d been causing a bit of chaos in Amity Park, and Danny figured bringing her to the Manor might help her channel her energy.

When Dani strutted into the Batcave, grinning like a gremlin with her wild energy, the reactions were... mixed.

“She’s my clone,” Danny explained, his tone casual. “But I kinda see her more like a daughter.”

“Daughter?” Damian repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You... have a daughter?”

Dani, ever the instigator, threw her arms around Danny’s waist. “Yup! My Dad’s the best!” she chirped, shooting a cheeky grin at Damian. “He’s way cooler than you, by the way.”

Damian bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You’re barely older than me, yet you have already claimed an heir?” His voice trembled with a mix of indignation and something close to panic.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “She’s not an ‘heir.’ She’s just... Dani. And technically, she’s my clone, not my biological kid. It’s complicated.”

But Damian was already lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Late that night, Damian approached Jason. “Todd,” he said, his tone serious. “I require your assistance.”

Jason blinked. “Uh, with what?”

“I must find a suitable candidate to bear my child.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I am not,” Damian replied, his expression unyielding. “If Daniel has already produced a successor, then I must act swiftly to secure my own lineage.”

Jason clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Oh, man, this is rich. Demon Spawn wants to have a baby just to one-up his ghost brother.”

“It is not a matter of one-upmanship,” Damian insisted, though the faint pink tinge in his cheeks said otherwise.

The next morning, Danny caught wind of Damian’s... ambition. He found his younger twin in the training room, furiously sparring with a practice dummy.

“Hey, Dames,” Danny said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Do not call me that,” Damian growled, landing a particularly vicious strike on the dummy.

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I heard a little rumor. Something about you wanting to, uh, find a lady to have a kid with?”

Damian froze mid-strike, then turned to glare at Danny. “Who told you that?”

Danny smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Look, man, you don’t need to go all ‘League heir’ about this. Dani’s not my biological kid. She’s a clone. Like, literally made from my DNA. I didn’t exactly sign up for the whole ‘parent’ thing—it just kinda happened.”

Damian’s glare softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. “And yet, you claim her as your own.”

“Yeah, because she’s family,” Danny said simply. “She needed someone, so I stepped up. That’s what family does.”

Damian lowered his gaze, his fists unclenching. “I see.”

A few weeks later, Talia’s clone assassins made their move. But instead of eliminating them, Damian captured and brought them to the Manor.

“Father,” he declared, standing proudly before Bruce, “I have decided to take responsibility for these clones. They are my family, and I will train them to uphold the legacy of the League.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian—”

“Not bad, kid,” Jason said, clapping him on the back. “But you might want to workshop the pitch. Sounds a little murder-y.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Now we have more mini-Damians running around.”

Danny, watching from the sidelines with Dani by his side, couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”

“You think he’s doing this to one-up you?” Dani asked.

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, grinning. “And I love it.”

While the Bat-family adjusted to the sudden influx of clones, Danny and Damian’s relationship began to shift. Though their rivalry remained, it was tempered by a growing mutual respect.

“I still do not approve of your cavalier attitude,” Damian said one night as they patrolled Gotham together.

“And I still think you need to loosen up,” Danny shot back.

Damian huffed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he was starting to appreciate having an older brother who wasn’t afraid to challenge him—or support him.

And for Danny, seeing his once-distant twin slowly open up was worth all the sibling squabbles in the world.

[sukunasbow]

thigh riding with jinx ; mdni

you’re sitting down at your desk, tinkering with your latest invention. “baby?” you hear jinx call out to you.

“just a few more minutes.” your eyebrows furrow in concentration and you push your glasses up as they start sliding down your nose. “i can’t figure out what’s wrong with this.” you huff.

“just come back to bed.” your girlfriend whines, “i can help you figure that out later.” her lips form into a pout as you continue working. jinx adores you with her entire heart, despite your habit of occasionally getting too into the zone when you’re working on something new. usually when that happens, she has different tactics of getting you out of the zone to prioritize yourself and give yourself a break. she climbs off of your bed and slowly struts towards you in nothing but her skimpy black tank top and lace panties. jinx taps on your shoulder.

“yes?” you put down your tools and spin around in your chair to face her.

“let’s take a break, hm?” she grins, immediately noticing the way your eyes widen at the sight of her.

“jinx, trust me when i say all i want is to be done with this and touch you all over.” you pause to let out a shaky breath, “but i have to get this done.” she bites her lip and contemplates going back to bed, however, she quickly changes her mind, opting to try something else out.

“how about..” she sits down on your lap and you’re caught off guard as you feel a small wet patch on her panties connect to the fabric of your sweatpants. “watching you look so focused on your work..” she pauses, grabbing your hands and using her own hands to guide yours up her body and to her tits. “gets me so hot and bothered.” she moans out, making you squeeze her breasts.

“jinx.” you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut. your glasses fog up slightly as you fight back deep breaths from being turned on. “i can’t..not right now.”

“you don’t have to do anything.” she smirks. the look in her eyes makes it obvious that she has a plan. “just keep fixing that up..” she points to your invention that’s resting on the desk, “and let me take care of myself.” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion but you grip onto her hips and spin the two of you around in the chair anyways. you shift her onto one of your legs, giving yourself enough room to work while she sits down on your thigh. the blue haired girl starts grinding on your thigh, letting out low whimpers when her panties rub the perfect amount of friction on her throbbing clit. “ooh, yes, yes.” she nudges her head in the crook of your neck, lightly sucking down on the skin to muffle the rest of her moans so she doesn’t distract you. you swallow thickly, trying to continue working while your own pussy starts getting wet. your sweatpants get covered in her slick as jinx continues rocking her hips back and forth, practically humping your thigh in hopes of getting more pleasure. “mmph.” she huffs. she gently bites down on your neck, starting to get frustrated at the fact that her clit isn’t getting enough stimulation.

“jinx.” you place your pen down on the desk and lean back in your chair. she pulls her head away from your neck and looks down at you while still humping your thigh. her big pink eyes give you a pleading look. “fine.” you pick her up off your leg and carry her away to the bed, trying to act as if you can’t see the small smirk on her face. jinx always knows how to get you under her control. “let me take care of you, hm? can’t get there on my thigh? need my tongue?” you coo, almost mocking her horny and desperate state.

[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

@nshmrarki @roslayy @machambrx @wonnienyang @punchbug9-blog

@hollyoongs @chicxxy @tunafishyfishylike @norucking @riribelle

@lol6sposts @skzenhalove @reading-wh0re @tinie03 @cyjhhyj

@jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @mitmit01 @strxwbloody @woorcve @1309zip

@fancypeacepersona @tsukiflwr @karinaever @wolfhardbby @moonpri

@lucid-sombra @kittylicious-purr @addictedtohobi @lillotus17 @minahaeyo

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

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Hits Different

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: Reader gets jealous when some women start hitting on Aaron at the bar on their team night out

CW: drunk!Hotch, jealous!Reader, mentions of an unsub and murder, drinking, confessions, makeout, Hotch being handsy, kinda needy!Hotch?

a/n: I’m literally obsessed with Aaron Hotchner rn

title track 🎶🥂

~~~

“No— I can’t,” you opposed as your coworkers decided to order another round of shots. Cheeks glowing as the alcohol seeped into you. Smiling as Derek put his arm around you and J.J. reached across the table to encourage you.

It was a Thursday night. You all had just gotten back from a week long endeavor in Utah. Local killer had his sight on some local young women. Killing them in some ritual style way that the drinks helped you fuzz the memory of. Luckily after you had addressed the public, he grew sloppy and was easily caught.

And now, back in your home state, you all crowded into a local bar to relax. And when the BAU “relaxed” it usually involved some heavy drinking.

“Shots! Shots! Sh-Shots!” Penelope and Emily chanted to the tune of the Lil Jon song. You laughed, a subtle snort escaping you. Rossi came back with the tray, beginning to pass them out to everyone.

Aaron Hotchner hovered behind him. Already having downed three glasses of scotch and beaming with alcohol on his face. It was a rare occasion that Hotch got drunk. Usually he just sipped at one drink while everyone else got themselves into trouble. But tonight he decided to let loose. Taking two glasses off the tray and squeezing in next to you in the already tight booth. Sitting them down in front of the two of you. Hooded eyes squinted upward in a closed-mouth smile as his eyebrows raised at you.

And you felt your face completely flush. Since your time at the BAU, you had developed a crush on your superior. Even if it was inappropriate and the age gap was a bit large, you still harbored feelings for him. And moments like this did not help.

Completely engulfed by the aroma of his cologne. Trying not to make it obvious you were smelling him. Hotch wrapped his arm around you absentmindedly. Leaning in and holding one of the glasses up to you. “Are you gonna do a shot with me?” His slightly slurred words melted against your skin. His voice somehow deeper and sultrier than ever. Everyone else was too distracted by the giggling of drunken excitement for more drinks to notice what was happening. It was like you two were alone for a moment.

You smiled, nodding slowly as he passed you the shot in his hand. Picking up the other and wrapping his arm around yours. Intertwined so that your hands were back against your own mouths. You were beyond flustered with the contact he was making with you. Hotch began counting down, both of you throwing the alcohol back on three.

Sucking your teeth as it burned down your throat. Hotch blew his breath out. You watched as his nose scrunched up at the taste. Shaking off the strong taste as Hotch leaned in against you. His head bumping against yours for a moment. Lips pressing against your ear in his drunk state.

“Want me to go get us som’more drinks? You like something more fruity, right?” Hotch suggested, deep voice ringing in your ear. The feeling of his lips grazing your skin had you sweating.

“Only if you’re buying,” you pulled at his tie softly. Causing his eyes to lock into yours, corner of his mouth curving up. His eyes scanned your figure momentarily before getting up and strutting over to the bar.

“Oh. My. God.” J.J.’s voice pulled you back from your staring problem you had with Hotch. You whipped your neck to face her, adjusting your posture in the seat. Shaking your head slightly, “What?”

“What was that about?” J.J. grinned brightly, eyes bouncing from Hotch to you.

“We were just doing some shots together,” you felt your face heating up again. Tongue coming out to wet your lips as your mouth ran dry.

“The only other instances of Hotch getting that close to any of us was when we were hurt,” Spencer chimed in with his analytical sounding tone. Still as smart as ever even while drunk.

“Oh God, you guys,” you shook your head and scooted out of the booth. Stretching your legs for the first time tonight. Hands resting on the table as you got closer to the opposing side. Being eye-to-eye with J.J. and Spencer, “You guys know he acts different when he’s relaxed. It’s nothing.”

Spencer and J.J. exchanged a look of uncertainty. Neither of them believing what you had just said. Rolling your eyes at their smirking expressions. Catching on easily to the feelings you had for your boss.

Downside of having friends who are profilers.

“Drop it,” you pointed at them with two fingers. Your friends began snickering and laughing. You could not help but smile back at them. Laughter was contagious when you were intoxicated. You turned to meet your crush at the bar.

You froze.

Some woman was cuddled up with Hotch at the bar. Breasts peaking out of the top of her thin shirt, curled hair falling below her shoulders, and a beautiful face of makeup. Your heart sank down to your ankles. Watching as her hand trailed his chest. Watching how her perfectly glossed lips popped as she spoke to him inaudibly.

Worst of all: his smile.

SSA Hotchner tended to be gruff and stern. Brooding and unreadable. Purely business around you and the other members of the BAU. Stoic and distant. Something you all agreed was so he did not get overly attached, just in case something happened to one of you. Rarely smiling other than seeing his sweet son, Jack.

Guess tonight was different.

Rosey cheeks and perfect teeth painted his expression. Eyes locked in on the woman before him. Your hands began shaking at your sides. If it was not a cartoon cliche, you would have had smoke coming out of your ears. Teeth grinding together behind tightly pierced lips.

Rethinking any hints he may have given you. Feeling like you had fooled yourself into a crush. Angry that some random bitch woman was getting too friendly with Hotch.

Unable to take it anymore. Jealousy brewing inside you, ready to overflow. You marched up to the bar, immediately pulling Hotch’s attention from the woman.

“Sorry to interrupt—“

“Hi, Y/N,” Hotch smiled at you. Causing butterflies to flutter in your intestines. Especially with the casualty of your first name.

God, he was drunk.

“SSA Y/L/N,” you extended your hand out to the woman, lip twitching when she shined her perfect smile. Flaring your nostrils and locking your jaw when your hand met hers.

“Hi! I’m Hope,” her peppy attitude made you sick to your stomach. Trying your best to fake your expression. Anger causing a slight shake to your demeanor.

“Right…” you trailed off, looking at Hotch whose eyes had not left you yet, “Hotch—“

“C’mon, Y/N. You can call me Aaron here,” he leaned in and whispered to you. Chills ran down your entire body when the heat from his lips radiated against your skin. Swallowing the lump in your throat.

Oh, he was REALLY drunk.

“Aaron,” you started, watching him smile at you saying his first name, “Did you get my drink?”

Hotch’s hand came up cupping his cheek as his eyes squinted, “Oh my God. That’s why I came up here. I totally forgot—“

“Don’t worry about it, Hotch,” your frustration took over your attitude. Fists clinching at your sides. Feeling tears beginning to burn behind your eyes. Deciding to storm off without the drink. Heading towards the long corridor to the bathrooms.

“Y/N—“ Hotch reached out to you with a confusion behind his tone. Not caring enough to listen to whatever excuse his drunken self was gonna give you. Trying your best not to make a scene so none of your coworkers would notice and come after you. Really just needing to be alone.

You leaned against the cold wall, hands holding onto each of your arms. Head resting against the brick of the dimly lit hallway. Fighting your eyes that begged to leak with your feelings. And you felt stupid. Did you really think your own boss would be interested in you? Enough to not get distracted by the beautiful woman at the bar? Please.

Feeling suddenly sober at the heartbreak in your chest. Hands coming up to cover your redening face. Embarrassed that you had even toyed with the notion. Knowing it was completely against protocol to fraternize with coworkers. Let alone with your superior—

“Y/N?” Hotch’s somber voice broke you away from the thoughts filling your mind.

You blinked your eyes open. Manually breathing as your shoulders rose and fell. Controlling the water that begged to pour from your eyes. Clicking your tongue as you spoke, “Hotch.”

“I told you, you could call me Aaron here,” he leaned against the wall beside you. Arms folded over his broad chest. Pondering the informality before looking back to him.

“I thought you saved that for pretty girls at the bar,” you half-heartedly smiled. Flaring your nostrils as you contorted your face to hide your frown.

Hotch laughed, bearing that smile that had you seeing stars. Eyes closing for a moment, giving you the opportunity to linger in it. Enjoying him being this casual with you.

“Is that not what you are?” Hotch asked.

You whipped your head to look at him again. Brows furrowed tightly together as your mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

Hotch rose a brow, “Are you not a pretty girl? At the bar with me right now?”

You blinked as you stammered, “I— Not like… I mean— not like that girl at the bar…” You trailed off completely dumbfounded by his statement. Hotch watched you with a smile. His own cheeks still red.

“You think I’m pretty?” You finally formed a cohesive sentence unable to stop your mouth from curving into a smile.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Hotch’s hooded eyes stared into yours. Taken aback by that. Questioning for a moment if he was mocking you. Realizing by his expression he was not.

“You’re drunk, Hotch—“

“Aaron,” he corrected, “And, yeah I am drunk. But just drunk enough to finally be honest with you about that.” Hotch’s tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lip. Hand coming up and rubbing his neck at his confession.

“You didn’t have to come back here just to try and make me feel better. You were having a good chat with that woman at the bar. She was so beautiful, and made you smile, and not a part of the BAU, and—“ you covered your mouth getting embarrassed and shameful.

Hotch’s hand caressed your cheek. Pulling you back to him. His brows laid flat against his eyes. Lips pressed firmly together, watching his throat bob with the swallow he took. Thumb rubbing circles into your warm cheek, swiping away the singular line of tears that streamed down.

“I’m sorry— it’s the alcohol, that’s why I’m crying—“

Hotch cut you off by pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. Your eyes flew open. Hand gently resting against his chest as you savored the feeling of his lips on yours. Feeling your breath hitch in your throat and heart swell.

“You taste so sweet,” Hotch groaned, both hands gripping your face now. The primal noises he made causing arousal to swirl around your belly. Feeling its residue stick to your panties. His lips trailed down your jaw to your neck. Nipping against your soft skin as his hands roamed down the backside of your body. Gasping when his large hands groped your ass.

“I get chit-chatty when I’m drunk. That girl at the bar didn’t matter at all,” Hotch promised against your skin with kisses breaking up his sentences.

“You won’t even remember this in the morning,” you giggled when he took your earlobe between his teeth. Feeling a somberness sinking into your gut.

“How could I forgot this?” Hotch breathed into your ear. Sounding like he was desperate and almost completely out of breath, “Forget about you?”

Hotch pulled back to look into your eyes. Really taking in your face before him. Your eyes kept darting between his and his lips. Smiling when you could still taste him on your lips.

You pressed up on your toes, lips meeting his again. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Sloppily intertwining together. Huffs and grunts coming from Hotch as he pulled your front flush against his. You blushed at the feeling of his bulge.

“What about the team?” You questioned as the weight of the situation became suddenly apparent.

“I don’t care about them right now,” Hotch pressed his lips back to yours. Kissing away any fear or dread that was in your mind. Completely consuming you. Smiling as you both allowed hands to roam the other’s body.

You broke the kiss momentarily, “So— wait— you mean Rossi thinks I’m pretty too?” You teased him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Watch it,” Hotch smiled with a playful aggression on his tone, capturing you back in a kiss. Laughing together as you pressed lips together.

~~~

[END//?]

// Thank you so much for reading! I’m having such a blast writing for Hotch right now. Honestly, I’m think about making a smutty part 2 to this fic if anyone was interested. If you have requests or want to be tagged in any future Fics, let me know! //

{tags}

@megangovier ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @justyourusualash ~ @mrs-ssa-hotch ~

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less�� late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24