#though she will enjoy the outcome

[autistichalsin]

In retrospect, four years later, I feel like the Isabel Fall incident was just the biggest ignored cautionary tale modern fandom spaces have ever had. Yes, it wasn't limited to fandom, it was also a professional author/booktok type argument, but it had a lot of crossover.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: a writer, whether fan or pro, publishes a work. If one were to judge a book by its cover, something we are all taught in Kindergarten shouldn't happen but has a way of occurring regardless, one might find that there was something that seemed deeply problematic about this work. Maybe the title or summary alluded to something Wrong happening, or maybe the tags indicated there was problematic kinks or relationships. And that meant the story was Bad. So, a group of people takes to the Twittersphere to inform everyone who will listen why the work, and therefore the author, are Bad. The author, receiving an avalanche of abuse and harassment, deactivates their account, and checks into a mental health facility for monitoring for suicidal ideation. They never return to their writing space, and the harassers get a slap on the wrist (if that- usually they get praise and high-fives all around) and start waiting for their next victim to transgress.

Sounds awful familiar, doesn't it?

Isabel Fall's case, though, was even more extreme for many reasons. See, she made the terrible mistake of using a transphobic meme as the genesis to actually explore issues of gender identity.

More specifically, she used the phrase "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" to examine how marginalized identities, when they become more accepted, become nothing more than a tool for the military-industrial complex to rebrand itself as a more personable and inclusive atrocity; a chance to pursue praise for bombing brown children while being progressive, because queer people, too, can help blow up brown children now! It also contained an examination of identity and how queerness is intrinsic to a person, etc.

But... well, if harassers ever bothered to read the things they critique, we wouldn't be here, would we? So instead, they called Isabel a transphobic monster for the title alone, even starting a misinformation campaign to claim she was, in fact, a cis male nazi using a fake identity to psyop the queer community.

A few days later, after days of horrific abuse and harassment, Isabel requested that Clarkesworld magazine pull the story. She checked in to a psych ward with suicidal thoughts. That wasn't all, though; the harassment was so bad that she was forced to out herself as trans to defend against the claims.

Only... we know this type of person, the fandom harassers, don't we? You know where this is going. Outing herself did nothing to stop the harassment. No one was willing to read the book, much less examine how her sexuality and gender might have influenced her when writing it.

So some time later, Isabel deleted her social media. She is still alive, but "Isabel Fall" is not- because the harassment was so bad that Isabel detransitioned/closeted herself, too traumatized to continue living her authentic life.

Supposed trans allies were so outraged at a fictional portrayal of transness, written by a trans woman, that they harassed a real life trans woman into detransitioning.

It's heartbreakingly familiar, isn't it? Many of us in fandom communities have been in Isabel's shoes, even if the outcome wasn't so extreme (or in some cases, when it truly was). Most especially, many of us, as marginalized writers speaking from our own experiences in some way, have found that others did not enjoy our framework for examining these things, and hurt us, members of those identities, in defense of "the community" as a nebulous undefined entity.

There's a quote that was posted in a news writeup about the whole saga that was published a year after the fact. The quote is:

The delineation between paranoid and reparative readings originated in 1995, with influential critic Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick. A paranoid reading focuses on what’s wrong or problematic about a work of art. A reparative reading seeks out what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art, even if the work is flawed. Importantly, a reparative reading also tends to consider what might be nourishing or healing in a work of art for someone who isn’t the reader. This kind of nuance gets completely worn away on Twitter, home of paranoid readings. “[You might tweet], ‘Well, they didn’t discuss X, Y, or Z, so that’s bad!’ Or, ‘They didn’t’ — in this case — ‘discuss transness in a way that felt like what I feel about transness, therefore it is bad.’ That flattens everything into this very individual, very hostile way of reading,” Mandelo says. “Part of reparative reading is trying to think about how a story cannot do everything. Nothing can do everything. If you’re reading every text, fiction, or criticism looking for it to tick a bunch of boxes — like if it represents X, Y, and Z appropriately to my definitions of appropriate, and if it’s missing any of those things, it’s not good — you’re not really seeing the close focus that it has on something else.”

A paranoid reading describes perfectly what fandom culture has become in the modern times. It is why "proship", once simply a word for common sense "don't engage with what you don't like, and don't harass people who create it either" philosophies, has become the boogeyman of fandom, a bad and dangerous word. The days of reparative readings, where you would look for things you enjoyed, are all but dead. Fiction is rarely a chance to feel joy; it's an excuse to get angry, to vitriolically attack those different from oneself while surrounded with those who are the same as oneself. It's an excuse to form in-groups and out-groups that must necessarily be in a constant state of conflict, lest it come across like This side is accepting That side's faults. In other words, fandom has become the exact sort of space as the nonfandom spaces it used to seek to define itself against.

It's not about joy. It's not about resonance with plot or characters. It's about hate. It's about finding fault. If they can't find any in the story, they will, rest assured, create it by instigating fan wars- dividing fandom into factions and mercilessly attacking the other.

And that's if they even went so far as to read the work they're critiquing. The ones they don't bother to read, as you saw above, fare even worse. If an AO3 writer tagged an abuser/victim ship, it's bad, it's fetishism, even if the story is about how the victim escapes. If a trans writer uses the title "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter" to find a framework to dissect rainbow-washing the military-industrial complex, it's unforgivable. It's a cesspool of kneejerk reactions, moralizing discomfort, treating good/evil as dichotomous categories that can never be escaped, and using that complex as an excuse to heap harassment on people who "deserve it." Because once you are Bad, there is no action against you that is too Bad for you to deserve.

Isabel Fall's story follows this so step-by-step that it's like a textbook case study on modern fandom behavior.

Isabel Fall wrote a short story with an inflammatory title, with a genesis in transphobic mockery, in the hopes of turning it into a genuine treatise on the intersection of gender and sexuality and the military-industrial complex. But because audiences are unprepared for the idea of inflammatory rhetoric as a tool to force discomfort to then force deeper introspection... they zeroed in on the discomfort. "I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter"- the title phrase, not the work- made them uncomfortable. We no longer teach people how to handle discomfort; we live in a world of euphemism and glossing over, a world where people can't even type out the words "kill" and rape", instead substituting "unalive" and "grape." We don't deal with uncomfortable feelings anymore; we censor them, we transform them, we sanitize them. When you are unable to process discomfort, when you are never given self-soothing tools, your only possible conclusion is that anything Uncomfortable must be Bad, and the creator must either be censored too, or attacked into conformity so that you never again experience the horrors of being Uncomfortable.

So the masses took to Twitter, outraged. They were Uncomfortable, and that de facto meant that they had been Wronged. Because the content was related to trans identity issues, that became the accusation; it was transphobic, inherently. It couldn't be a critique of bigger and more fluid systems than gender identity alone; it was a slight against trans people. And no amount of explanations would change their minds now, because they had already been aggrieved and made to feel Uncomfortable.

Isabel Fall was now a Bad Person, and we all know what fandom spaces do to Bad People. Bad People, because they are Bad, will always be deserving of suicide bait and namecalling and threatening. Once a person is Bad, there is no way to ever become Good again. Not by refuting the accusations (because the accusations are now self-evident facts; "there is a callout thread against them" is its own tautological proof that wrongdoing has happened regardless of the veracity of the claims in the callout) and not by apologizing and changing, because if you apologize and admit you did the Bad thing, you are still Bad, and no matter what you do in future, you were once Bad and that needs to be brought up every time you are mentioned. If you are bad, you can NEVER be more than what you were at your worst (in their definition) moment. Your are now ontologically evil, and there is no action taken against you that can be immoral.

So Isabel was doomed, naturally. It didn't matter that she outed herself to explain that she personally had lived the experience of a trans woman and could speak with authority on the atrocity of rainbow-washing the military industrial complex as a proaganda tool to capture progressives. None of it mattered. She had written a work with an Uncomfortable phrase for a title, the readers were Uncomfortable, and someone had to pay for it.

And that's the key; pay for it. Punishment. Revenge. It's never about correcting behavior. Restorative justice is not in this group's vocabulary. You will, incidentally, never find one of these folks have a stance against the death penalty; if you did Bad as a verb, you are Bad as an intrinsic, inescapable adjective, and what can you do to incorrigible people but kill them to save the Normal people? This is the same principle, on a smaller scale, that underscores their fandom activities; if a Bad fan writes Bad fiction, they are a Bad person, and their fandom persona needs to die to save Normal fans the pain of feeling Uncomfortable.

And that's what happened to Isabel Fall. The person who wrote the short story is very much alive, but the pseudonym of Isabel Fall, the identity, the lived experiences coming together in concert with imagination to form a speculative work to critique deeply problematic sociopolitical structures? That is dead. Isabel Fall will never write again, even if by some miracle the person who once used the name does. Even if she ever decides to restart her transition, she will be permanently scarred by this experience, and will never again be able to share her experience with us as a way to grow our own empathy and challenge our understanding of the world. In spirit, but not body, fandom spaces murdered Isabel Fall.

And that's... fandom, anymore. That's just what is done, routinely and without question, to Bad people. Good people are Good, so they don't make mistakes, and they never go too far when dealing with Bad people. And Bad people, well, they should have thought before they did something Bad which made them Bad people.

Isabel Fall's harassment happened in early 2020, before quarantine started, but it was in so many ways a final chance for fandom to hit the breaks. A chance for fandom to think collectively about what it wanted to be, who it wanted to be for and how it wanted to do it. And fandom looked at this and said, "more, please." It continues to harass marginalized people, especially fans of color and queen fans, into suffering mental breakdowns. With gusto.

Any ideas of reparative reading is dead. Fandom runs solely on paranoid readings. And so too is restorative justice gone for fandom transgressions, real or imagined. It is now solely about punitive, vigilante justice. It's a concerted campaign to make sure oddballs conform or die (in spirit, but sometimes even physically given how often mentally ill individuals are pushed into committing suicide).

It's a deeply toxic environment and I'm sad to say that Isabel Fall's story was, in retrospect, a sort of event horizon for the fandom. The gravitational pull of these harassment campaigns is entirely too strong now and there is no escaping it. I'm sorry, I hate to say something so bleak, but thinking the last few days about the state of fandom (not just my current one but also others I watch from the outside), I just don't think we can ever go back to peaceful "for joy" engagement, not when so many people are determined to use it as an outlet for lateral aggression against other people.

[ham-st4r]

90 DAYS OF PLEASURE - L. HS

PAIRING: HEESEUNG + FEM READER!

WARNINGS: smut, quickies, public sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, ear licking, cum eating, hate-ish sex, cursing, teasing, lots of jealousy, angst, fluff, oral, dirty talk, spitting, swallowing, fingering, toe sucking, alcohol, arguments, Heeseung, because his attitude in this fic is a warning in itself 💀 mans is a lil obsessed and delusional filler characters, yeonjun, jeongin, sunghoon, jay, jake, yeji, karina.

GENRE: 18+, smut, enemies to?

SUMMARY: You were excited to move to your childhood bestfriend's neighborhood after being separated for years. You couldn’t wait to catch up and meet her large group of friends and attend a new school together. What you couldn’t have been prepared for was the fact that one of her said friends would become your enemy on just the first day of meeting and the roller coaster of emotions that followed after.

WORDCOUNT: 31,114k CHARACTERS 169,383k

Hello! This is my first time writing something like this, so I’m a bit dissatisfied with the outcome. However, I spent a decent amount of time writing it, and everyone seems to be excited for it, so I decided to post it for you guys cause otherwise, this would not be seeing the light of day💀 bear with me; I’ll try to write better plots from now on. But anyways, it’s finally here, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Please, please, please send feedback and reblog. I worked so hard on this, so it can’t flop :/

Today was your first day of college, well, at least as a transfer student anyways, you had been so excited to transfer cause after all this time you were finally going to be reuniting with your childhood best friend. You missed her so much after she moved away, but luckily, your parents decided to relocate this year, and it just so happened to be in her same community. Needless to say, you couldn't have been happier after so long. You'd finally be seeing her again.

Over the years, you both kept in touch by texting and FaceTiming every day, keeping your friendship as strong as it was the day she moved away.

However, though your bond was strong, you just couldn't get over the fact that you couldn't hug her, see her in person, and go out together like you used to. It killed you, but neither of you could do anything about it, so sadly, you just accepted it.

But now here you both are, just minutes from meeting again, and you couldn't wait. To say you were happy would be an understatement.

You were impatiently waiting outside the school, nearly shaking in excitement. You were nervous but so so happy at the same time.

You texted her the time you arrived, and minutes later, she was running towards you at the gates of your new school. "Y/n!" she shouted your name with the biggest smile on her face as she opened her arms far and wide to give you a big hug.

You giggled when you saw her excitedly running towards you, and you outstretched your arms, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug while releasing a deep sigh. "It's been so long." As mentioned previously, you both kept in touch over the phone and on FaceTime, but it still didn't beat actually seeing each other in person after so many years apart.

"Too long" you said tightening your grip on her you missed the warmth of her hugs the most especially when you were going through tough times.

"I missed you. There's so much I have to show you," she cheered as she broke the hug. "I have to show you around and show you to classes. Oh, and of course, you have to finally meet all my friends," she clapped excitedly.

"Friends? I thought I was your only friend," you say playfully, nudging her shoulder with yours.

"You're my only best friend," she winked.

"That's more like it." you both linked your arms together, entering the school so she could show you all the ins and outs.

You were shocked, to say the least.

She gave you the full tour like a personal guide, and it was very much appreciated the school was so big that you're sure you would have gotten lost if it wasn't for her showing you around.

It was much nicer than the one you attended and cleaner, too, which wasn't a surprise cause the community was much nicer than your old neighborhood. Not to say your old neighborhood was bad. It just had significantly less income.

She showed you everything on the walk-through, like the bathrooms, the gym, the library, the cafeteria, literally everything.

As you both walk side by side, she suddenly halts and turns to you with a smile on her face after finishing the tour. "So what do you think?"

"It's great. I love it. So much better than my old school. Sorry, not sorry." you both share a laugh together, and you notice your friend suddenly looking behind you. You turn in the direction she's looking in, and you see a boy waving frantically. He looked to be your same age. He had a bright smile on his face. His hair was brown and bouncing up and down as he jogged over to you both.

"Hi, Jake!" Your best friend smiles, and you smile as well. You heard that name in many conversations that you had with her in the past over FaceTime.

"Hey, Yeji," he greets when he finally reaches both of you. He looks at you, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours. Yeji spoke about you, her best friend coming into town this week, so Jake could only surmise you were that best friend cause he hasn't seen you around till now.

You couldn't help but smile back cause his smile was literally so contagious. "Y/n, this is my friend. I talked to you about. Jake and I met as soon as I moved here, and he's been by my side protecting me and showing me the ropes ever since."

"Hi Jake, nice to meet you." you extend your hand for him to shake, and he does gladly.

"You too. I love seeing new faces and making new friends," he says excitedly. You usually weren't good at first meetings, but this went surprisingly smooth, and you could already see yourself growing close to him. He just had a very positive and comfortable vibe about him, and anyone who was a friend of Yeji was a friend of yours.

"Class is about to start soon, but I'll briefly introduce you to all my friends." You nod your head, smiling softly at the thought of meeting her friends finally, she talked so much about them, and they all sounded like great people.

"All the others are just outside. Shall we go see them? We have…" Jake trails off, looking at the timepiece on his wrist. "Just about fifteen minutes before class."

"Perfect." Yeji takes your hand in hers, leading you outside on the front bench where they all usually hang out before class. "Hi everyone," she greets, gathering the attention of the five other people sitting on the bench. "So I have someone I'd like you to meet." They all lift their heads from their phones and notebooks, offering you a kind smile as you look at the many different faces of her friend group. "This is y/n, my long-time bestie that I always talk about. You guys already know, but she's transferring here, and from now on, she's a part of our group," she announces while you three take a seat on the bench together with the rest of them. "So treat her well," she says sternly.

You hear a series of hi's and hellos. "H-hello," you say shyly. "I'm y/n. It's nice to finally meet my friends, friends." Chuckling softly, you lower your head, hiding your shyness or attempting to anyway.

"Likewise, names Jay," a male with silver hair replies with a cool smirk on his face.

"I'm Sunghoon. Nice to meet you," another male says, and you can't help but stare at him for a second longer, or maybe two, because he was absolutely breathtaking.

"I'm Karina." You looked to the left, making eye contact with one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen. Her smile was literally perfect. You nodded slightly, and you're sure you were blushing by now. How come yeji never told you all her friends looked like models.

"Yeonjun," a boy with bright blue hair sitting next to Karina, introduced himself briefly with a small wave, and you smiled politely.

"It's nice to meet all of y-" You were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You immediately got embarrassed because you didn't even notice him at first. To be fair, though, he was seated a little further on the back of the bench, so it wasn't that easy to notice him. Plus, you were still a bit nervous, and making eye contact wasn't a strong point for you at first-time meetings.

"I'm heeseung," he says dryly without bothering to offer you a smile or a wave cause the way you greeted everyone else but just completely ignored him.

"Nice to meet you, heese-" You try to acknowledge him, but he looked so uninterested, and if you're not mistaken, you could have sworn he rolled his eyes before he interrupted you for the second time in less than a minute.

"Class is starting now." He stands up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, and walking to the entrance all by himself.

"U-uhh, nice meeting you all. I hope we can all get along and become good friends." You finally finished what you were going to say before that heeseung guy rudely interrupted you not once but twice. You don't understand. Everyone else greeted you perfectly fine, but it's almost as if he didn't even want to meet you, which is weird. You couldn't imagine Yeji being friends with someone like that, but you didn't say anything. He was probably just annoyed by something or tired cause, after all, it was still really early morning, plus no one had a reaction to his behavior, so you're sure you were just reading too much into the situation, that's all.

They all gave you a parting smile and packed up their things, following heeseung into the building while you and Yeji did the same. She dropped you off at your first class, wishing you luck and giving you a thumbs up before leaving you by yourself for the first time today.

-

Introducing yourself in class was something you always dreaded, but the way Yeji's friend Heeseung was almost glaring at you while doing it made it ten times worse. You wondered if you had possibly done something earlier to offend him, but there was nothing you could think of at the moment.

You finished your very short introduction speech and naturally walked to the seat next to Heeseungs. The other chairs were free, but you decided on that one since you were trying to get close to Yeji's friends. You figured this was the perfect way to do just that. "Sorry about earlier." You lean in a little and whisper to him you're not exactly sure what you're even apologizing for, but you did it just to clear the air.

He turns to you, an annoyed expression on his face as he holds his index finger to his mouth, indicating for you to shush.

You sat upright in your chair, a slight pout on your lips from how rude he was being. You were just trying to do the right thing and apologize, and he was being mean about it for no apparent reason.

You wondered how he could be a friend of Yejis. He was very handsome but a total jerk, and Yeji definitely didn't hang around rude people like him, at least not since you've known her.

You sigh, and you can't believe your first class was basically ruined all because of him. When it ended, you couldn't have been happier cause sitting next to him felt so suffocating, and after you left that class, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

"So, how was it?" Yeji pops up out of nowhere while you are wandering the halls alone.

"It was good." You forced a smile and lied because you didn't want to bad mouth Heeseung in front of her. He was literally her friend, and besides, you didn't want it to start any unnecessary drama on the first day. You're sure Heeseung probably just wasn't feeling well.

"Great!" She said enthusiastically everything was already going so well. She was happy your first class was good, and you were finally able to reunite and meet her friends. So far, it was perfect, just how she imagined it would be. "Sorry to leave you again, but" she points down the hall. "Next class," she whispered. You waved her off, telling her it was alright and that you'd be fine alone.

You went your separate ways and headed to your next classroom, and lo and behold, heeseung was in this one, too. This time, you decided to sit away from him, not wanting to annoy him any further than you already apparently had.

Once you sat down, heeseung peeked over his shoulder, looking back at you in the corner of the room. Sitting all by yourself, you felt someone's gaze on you, and as soon as you looked up, you could see him quickly turn away from you. He started tapping his pencil on his desk and bouncing his legs, pretending like he wasn't just staring in your exact direction.

You shook your head, wondering what was up with him, but you let it drift to the back of your mind, convincing yourself that he was just having a bad day and left it alone.

-

Classes went by in a breeze. Heeseung was like literally in all your classes, and it was just your luck, but as the day went on, you were able to focus and completely forget about what happened earlier in the morning.

Once you packed up all your stuff, you left class, texting Yeji that you had just finished. She caught up with you a few minutes later, and you chatted with her about how everything went as you walked the halls to catch up with the others in the cafeteria. She was happy to hear you shared the same classes as Heeseung, but you weren't. "He's really great and smart. If you need help with anything, he's your go-to guy. He's just like naturally good at everything, and he's so humble and nice about it." She goes on and on about how nice he is, but you just can't see it after the way he's been treating you on just the first day of knowing you, but whatever, you trusted Yeji and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

You both headed to the cafeteria, and you wonder if you and yeji are both talking about the same heeseung cause when you sat down next to him, he looked as if he'd tear your head clean off in the last class you had together.

The lunch table in the cafeteria was already full of Yejis's friends gathered around and eating while conversing with each other.

You and Yeji got your food together, and the both of you went to the table to join in the conversation they were having. Yeji easily joined, but it was harder for you because, of course, she had known these people way longer than you, so you stayed quiet for the most part, only laughing at a few jokes here and there.

"Hey, since y/n's new here, we should ask questions so we can learn more about each other," Jake suggested, noticing your silence, and everyone immediately agreed with his idea. "Y/n, you can start," Jake says and includes you into the conversation.

You picked at your food nervously, trying to think of a good conversation starter. "Umm, what's everyone's favorite food?" You ask, hoping that was a good question to start with, and with everyone's enthusiastic replies, you assumed it was, which helped you loosen up a bit.

Everyone told you their favorites, starting with Sunghoon and ending with heeseung. You heard him mutter something under his breath, but you didn't really pay attention to it because he was quite rude earlier, and you weren't entirely over it yet. After you all shared your favorites, you went on to talk about your favorite colors next, just learning the basics about each other on your first day.

Heeseung scoffed and removed himself from the conversation when you didn't reply to him like you did with everyone else. He decided to fill his mouth with food instead of talking. besides, he wasn't that interested in getting to know you anyways cause you were so rude from the moment you introduced yourself, and he wonders how such a sweet girl like yeji could surround herself with someone like you.

Despite your rudeness, heeseung still couldn't deny that when he first saw you, he thought you were absolutely beautiful. That was the only thing you did have on your side, but that wasn't enough to get him to befriend the likes of you.

Lunch went smoothly for the most part. You laughed and talked with everyone, getting to know each of them on a more personal level. It wasn't much, but you think you all covered a lot of bases just on the first day of knowing each other, and you hoped things would continue like this, minus Heeseung being a bit stand-off-ish.

-

Your first week went rather quickly, and everything was going great, just like it was on the first day you arrived. You got closer to everyone, especially Jake, and you weren't getting lost in the halls as often anymore or running around like a chicken with your head cut off in search of a bathroom, so that was a huge plus.

The only thing that still wasn't so great was heeseung.

Every time you'd come around, he'd find any excuse to remove himself from a conversation or roll his eyes at the mere sight of you, making it impossible for you not to notice that he didn't enjoy your presence at all.

At first, you convinced yourself it was just him being tired, but after three weeks of him being like that with you, you decided to say something to Yeji about her friend because things between you and him were uncomfortable, to say the least, especially when all you were trying to do was get along with everyone. "Is he always like that?" You ask, book bag in hand, as you and Yeji head home from school for the day.

"Is who always like what?" She questions while mindlessly kicking a pebble on the ground once you both exit the building.

"Heeseung," you blurt out, not holding back anymore. "He's quite," you hum in thought, trying to find a way not to offend her or depict Heeseung as a bad guy. "Rude," you add softly.

Her brows raised at the statement, and when you noticed her expression, you grew anxious about her answer because what if she didn't believe you? What if she thinks you're trying to bad mouth her friend for no reason? That wouldn't be a good look for you at all. "He's just shy, but once you get to know him, he's really nice, and lots of people mistake his quietness for rudeness, but he's the complete opposite."

Nodding your head, you pondered her words, but him being quiet wasn't the problem with the two of you, so you pressed a little further, hoping to get answers as to why Heeseung didn't like you. "But it's been nearly a month, and every time I come around, it's like he hates me or something," you pout.

"Hmm, well, I'm sure you two will get along well. Just give him some time." she shrugs it off, and you let it go once again, but you'd be keeping close tabs on his behavior towards you from now on.

-

You and Yeji's friend group were all currently on lunch break, eating in silence until. "Y/n, we're all going to the movies on Saturday. Would you like to come?" Yeonjun tilted his head curiously, awaiting your answer, and he looked so adorable.

"Hmm," you think if you have anything planned this Saturday, but you didn't. Your whole day was totally free. "Sure!"

"Great!" he smiles before returning to the bowl of soup that he had gotten from the school's cafeteria.

You nearly snapped when you heard Heeseung sighing right beside you. Any other time, you'd think you were being paranoid, but you could tell it was directed at you, and to be honest, you were getting fed up with him already.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably while glaring at him. He turned his head in your opposite direction, unmistakably annoyed by you, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't like you, nor would you ask him about it cause he looked like he'd rather keel over than utter a single word to you.

Unfortunately, you had to be seated next to him, but you scooted as far away from him as possible, and as soon as you did, he did the same thing, creating a noticeable distance between the two of you.

What a petty asshole, you thought. Here he is, making it seem like you were doing something wrong when you were just simply trying to enjoy your lunch with your new friends.

Anyway, you were done with him. He could be annoyed all by himself cause you didn't care what he thought of you anymore, and you didn't care about becoming his friend no matter how many good things Yeji said about him.

You couldn't wrack your brain with his antics.

-

The day of the movie night rolled around, and everyone was already there waiting for you outside the venue.

"Okay, where's y/n?" Jake wonders out loud and checks his phone for a text from you, but he finds none.

Unfortunately, you had been running a bit late thanks to your alarm going off ten minutes past its set time. You must've set it wrong again. You knew you shouldn't have taken that afternoon nap, you got ready as fast as humanly possible to make up for your mistake. You arrived late, obviously, but only by a couple of minutes. "Sorry, I'm late," You smile sheepishly as you stand in front of them outside the venue with an apologetic pout on your face.

"Shouldn't have invited her," Heeseung says under his breath, and you wonder how no one else noticed this bullshit but you, but like you originally planned, you were ignoring him and his stupidity. If he wanted to be childish, he could be that way alone. You weren't going to waste time and energy on him, but it just baffled you how he could be so damn rude to a person he didn't even know.

"No worries, y/n. besides, we probably just missed some previews, no biggie," Jake assures you as you all enter the theater to get your tickets. You each buy your own individual snacks and go into the movie as quickly as possible.

Jake was right. The only thing you missed was the previews, which you were thankful for cause you'd feel bad if you made them miss the opening of the movie because you were late.

You don't know why or how you got stuck next to Heeseung's nasty ass, but somehow you did, and you immediately asked to switch seats or tried to, but before you could, he was pulling you down by your wrist, forcing you to sit next to him. "Stop making a scene," he tells you sternly without looking at you, and you were seething in anger cause what gave him the right to grab you and say you're making a scene when he has been the one making a scene every time he's within twelve feet of you?

You were about to reply, but he leaves you speechless when he reaches his hand in your bucket of popcorn, eating it like it was his, eating it like he paid for it. If he wanted some, why didn't he just buy it like everyone else had? "Wha-"

"Shush, the movie is starting," he quiets you immediately, letting go of your wrist, and feel so helpless cause you wanted to scold him, but you quite literally couldn't unless you took him outside, which at that point would actually be causing a scene, so you just let it go like you've been doing.

Halfway through the movie and, he's still helping himself to the popcorn you had bought for yourself.

You shook your head, reaching for your drink instead cause his hand was in the way of your popcorn, and he just had to reach for it too, causing both your hands to collide at the same time, and next thing you know, the ice cold slushy was falling into your lap you gasped loudly as the red drink seeped into your white shirt.

"Are you a baby or what? Spilling all over yourself, how childish," he tsked and continued watching the movie as you got up silently and went to the bathroom. apparently, everyone was too engrossed in the movie to notice your guy's little scuffle, which was fine cause you didn't want to ruin their night cause you were fighting with heeseung.

Once you reached the bathroom, you cleaned up as much as you could, but your shirt was stained bright red. You all had planned to go to dinner later, but it looked like you'd have to sit this one out cause your clothes were completely ruined.

You went back into the theater and finished watching the movie with the rest of them, and for the most part, you had a good time, minus that fat-headed jerk being next to you the whole time.

After an hour and some minutes, the credits rolled by, and everyone was filtering out of the theater. Once you all got outside, yeji was the first one to notice your shirt. "Oh no, y/n, what happened?" She asked with concern in her eyes, and now you kinda felt embarrassed cause all the attention was suddenly on you.

"I spilled on myself," you mumbled, and they couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked. While telling them what happened you looked just like a little kid that dropped their ice cream.

"Aww," Jake pouts, taking in the stain on your shirt. "You still look pretty, though red is your color," he says, trying to ease your embarrassment, and it definitely helped, you give him a wide smile of appreciation.

Heeseung folded his arms, popping his mouth at the scene. He was silent about the whole thing, which you found pretty funny cause it was his fault why your shirt was ruined, but you're almost glad it was because you didn't want to be around him any longer than you had to, even if it meant you couldn't hang out with your friends.

"Thanks, Jake." You looked down at your feet, blushing slightly. "I think I'll opt out of dinner, guys, so go ahead without me." They all collectively make sounds of disappointment, but you couldn't possibly go out looking like this, and you didn't want to ruin their plans by trying to reschedule. Being late to the movie was already bad enough.

"Thank goodness," Heeseung mumbled loud enough for you to hear and no one else, but you paid him no mind.

"Well, bye, y/n. I'll miss you," Yeonjun says, being a bit dramatic, and you just laughed it off, giving everyone else a hug except Heeseung cause, of course, he wouldn't want a hug from you. "Bye, Jay." you released him from the hug, and you were all ready to head home by your lonesome. Your night ended much sooner than planned, thanks to that giant cockroach that called himself Lee Heeseung. You couldn't believe that loser didn't even say it was his fault why your drink spilled in the first place.

"Wait!" Jay shouts eyes big and wide. "What if we all just have dinner at your place? We can grab the ingredients, and I'll cook. Plus, you can change your shirt, and we can all hang out together as planned?" He suggests.

"That's a great idea!" Karina says excitedly.

"Yeah and then we can have a sleep over!" Jake shouts and gets a smack on the back of his head by sunghoon.

"We don't even have our stuff, you dummy, and besides, we didn't even ask y/n yet." Jake rubs the back of his head, a dejected pout on his face. "Y/n, can we have a sleepover, please?" And how could you even think about saying no when everyone was looking at you with the cutest puppy eyes?

"But didn't you just say we don't have any of our stuf-" Jake immediately gets cut off with another slap to the back of his head.

"Yes, we can have a sleepover. My parents are out of town, but my house is kinda small-" Before you could finish, Jake and Sunghoon were all over you, hugging you way too tight, but you welcomed their gratitude by hugging them back.

"You're crushing her, guys." Jay shakes his head, prying the two boys off you. "Then I guess it's settled dinner and sleepover at y/n's house," Everyone cheered except for Heeseung, which wasn't even surprising to you anymore.

"I'm not going," Heeseung grumbles, drawing everyone's attention from you to him.

"Aww why?" Yeji says going up to him and tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. "You have to come," she pouts. "It won't be the same if everyone isn't coming," she begs.

He sighs, feeling conflicted because he really didn't want to be there with you, but he wanted to be there with his friends. "I don't know. I gotta get up early tomorrow t-"

"Heeseung, don't be a party pooper!" Yeonjun yells, and you can't help the laugh you let out, earning a glare from none other than Heeseung, but you really didn't care.

"It's a sleepover, not a party, you dimwit" You wanted to laugh, but you held it back because the last thing you wanted was to laugh at something Heeseung said.

"Whatever, just are you coming or not?" Jay interrupted the banter.

"Please," Yeji whines, making it impossible for Heeseung to say no, especially cause he knew she was so excited about having everyone together for your guy's first night out as a group.

"Fine," heeseung sighed, knowing he was in for a full night of torture.

-

It's been exactly two months since you moved, and you absolutely loved it. You're so glad your parents decided to move. It was literally the best decision ever. You could now call yejis friends your friends, you learned how to navigate your way around the community, and so far, school was going great. You couldn't ask for more, you were absolutely loving your new life.

Tonight would be the first party you were invited to by none other than your best friend. She said you should enjoy the young adult lifestyle and have fun since, after all, it was the weekend you didn't party much. Actually, you didn't party at all, mainly because you didn't like it but also because you didn't have any friends back home to party with, but now you had a whole group of people you liked and were comfortable with so, you decided to go try new things and see if it was something you'd like to do from now on.

So basically, in short, life couldn't be better right now.

The only problem was heeseung, but you completely gave up on being friends with him cause he was just simply weird, and you weren't going to dwell on it anymore. He got along with everyone else but you, so you didn't make a big fuss about it. Some people just simply aren't compatible, and you understand that, but he could have gone about it nicer nonetheless.

Jake and Heeseung were both walking side by side to their lockers, getting ready to head home for the day. "You're coming to the party right?"

"Hmm who's going?" Heeseung replies, stuffing a good-sized pile of books into his backpack for later use.

"Uhh, everyone?" Jake laughs, a bit confused by Heeseung's response.

If everyone meant you included, then he definitely didn't want to go cause you'd just ignore him whenever he said something and shoot nasty glares his way, and he could really go without that for a day. "I don't know. I have some work I need to get finished over the weekend,"

"Come on, you're already like the smartest person here. What is one party gonna hurt?" Jake says pulling the straps of his backpack on his shoulders as they make their way to the exit together.

"It's not the party. It's who's at the party." he rolled his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Jake says confused cause this was never a problem for Heeseung before. He didn't frequent parties as much as the others, but he also never complained about who would be at said party until today.

"It's nothing."

"Come on, just tell me," Jake pries for answers.

"Okay, but don't tell anyone." Jake immediately nods his head, assuring Heeseung that his secret is safe with him. "So you know yejis friend, right? y/n or whatever her name is," Jake nods again, but there's a confused expression slowly growing on his face as he wonders where Heeseung is going with this. "She like has issues with me for some reason, and I don't like being around her," he whispers.

"What?!" Jake says, surprised. "She literally gets along with everyone. What do you mean?"

"Everyone except me," Heeseung scoffs. "I don't care. It's just I don't understand why she feels the need to display it all the time. I don't even get why yejis friends with her, to be honest."

"Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about. She's great to me, and she fits in our group well, the perfect new addition." Jake nodded to himself.

"The perfect new annoying addition there, I fixed it for you," heeseung replies, and as they get further down the hall, he spots you and Jay laughing and talking with each other. "Speak of the devil" he rolls his eyes.

"So I take it you're not coming then?" Jake asked, disappointment evident in his tone as he waved at you and Jay in the distance with a smile on his face.

"You take it correct" he followed Jake's movements, waving to Jay only cause he couldn't care less about greeting you.

"Just give her a chance. I think you're misjudging her," heeseung hears Jake but doesn't respond simply because he knows if he did try to get closer to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.

"Hey, me and y/n were just about to go eat. Do you wanna come with?" Jay asked once they got in speaking range.

"Busy," Heeseung replies immediately cause there's no way he could keep his food down if he had to see your face the whole time.

"Okay, you?" Jay asked Jake.

"I'm always down to eat." You smiled, happy to have more company, and thank goodness Heeseung was not going because you literally couldn't stand him.

"On second thought, I'll tag along." Heeseung looked at you, a smirk on his face, and you don't know why, but it made you feel nervous cause he rarely even acknowledged you.

"Thought you were busy." Jay leads the way for the small group of four outside the gates and heads to the restaurant just a couple minutes away.

"Ehh, it can wait," Heeseung shrugs.

-

Arriving at the restaurant ten minutes later, you all take your seats, ordering the food you want and waiting for it to be served. "This feels weird with just the four of us," Jay commented. Usually, everyone would go out together to eat, but not today.

"It does," you pout. "Too bad they couldn't come."

"Hey, it's their fault for not studying harder, and now you pay the price cooped in your room catching up on work when you could be eating a delicious meal," Jake jokes, and you giggle softly. "Couldn't be me"

Heeseung sighs and pulls out his phone to ignore the annoying sounds of your laughter. He didn't know why you felt the need to run around fake-laughing at nearly everything Jake said. Hell, Jake could breathe, and you'd laugh, but far be it from him to make a joke. You'd just go silent, for fuck sake, anyone could make a joke, and you laugh at everyone except him.

He doesn't know why everyone was so blind to it. You were just trying to be the nice "it" girl where everything you did was cute and funny, and you were the life of the party, and everything was fucking sunshine and stupid ass rainbows; meanwhile, you were treating him like shit.

While eating, you all struck up a conversation, and Heeseung knew he wasn't being ignored. He just didn't have much knowledge of said topic, but he was still upset because even when he was the center of a conversation, you still never listened to him the way you were listening so intently to Jake and Jay.

Feeling left out, he discreetly slid his cup of iced coffee to the center of the table. Last time he did that, you gave him a little attention, so why not do it again? Once it was exactly where he wanted it to be, he "accidentally" knocked it over, causing you to get drenched in the ice cold beverage.

You gasped in shock the cold making little goosebumps form all over your skin. "Oh my gosh are you alright?" Jay asked and grabbed some tissues off the table and handed them to you to clean your shirt.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just cold," you laugh awkwardly as you wipe the coffee off of your clothes. You could have sworn you saw Heeseung smiling, and at this point, it wouldn't surprise you if he did it on purpose. You shook your head at him and continued to pat yourself dry.

Jake glared at heeseung as he heard him chuckling softly. "So immature," he scoffed, and Heeseung shrugged his shoulders, not really caring about what Jake had to say. "Would you like to go to the restroom? I have a spare shirt and joggers in my bag that I didn't use for practice. Maybe it'll fit?" Jake offers.

You looked down at your soaked clothing, and you didn't really have much of an option. "Thanks, Jake." You got up from the table, glaring at Heeseung once last time.

"Dude, you could have at least apologized for spilling your drink," Jay said once you both left the table.

"Sure, she liked the attention." Heeseung stood up and snatched his bag, deciding to just go home. He didn't even know why he was so angry. He just was.

Jay's brows furrowed in confusion, and heeseung was gone. Before he could question it, he just brushed it off and finished eating his pasta while waiting for you and Jake to come back.

When the two of you both came back, you noticed a certain someone wasn't there anymore, and you felt relieved.

"Where's heeseung?" Jake wonders.

"He just dipped." when you heard that, it made your blood boil, and it wasn't rocket science to put together why he came to lunch with you guys, to begin with. Was he really that sick in the head to ruin your lunch with your friends just cause he didn't like you?

That was your last straw. From now on, you wouldn't even look at him or try to greet him. He was a nasty jerk, and you're glad he didn't want anything to do with you cause you didn't want anything to do with him either.

-

Later that night, you got ready for the party, ignoring the earlier half of your day. You hoped you'd have fun tonight, and it'd make up for the crap you had to put up with at lunch today.

You dressed in something casual, putting on your favorite perfume and adding a little bit of jewelry, and though your look was pretty basic, you couldn't lie. You still looked really good in it. You checked yourself out in the wall-length mirror one last time and were confident in your outfit choice.

You walked out the front door and got into Yeonjun's car since apparently it was his turn to be the driver, or so you were told.

"You look beautiful, y/n," Yeji compliments you, giving you an even bigger confidence boost.

"So do you," you reply, loving the half-cut black dress she wore. It had gold accents on it, which made her look even more stunning, especially with her matching black heels.

"Oh, this is nothing," she humbly waved you off while you buckled yourself in.

"That's definitely something," Yeonjun piped up from the front seat, looking at Yeji in the rearview mirror with a slight smirk on his lips.

She smiled and looked down at her lap, blushing from his compliment, and you couldn't help but smile at the two.

-

When you three arrived, everyone else was already at the party. Apparently, yeonjun dropped them off along the way. You looked around, seeing everyone enjoying themselves. You greeted each of them one by one, except Heeseung. Of course, to be honest, you kinda even forgot he was part of your friend group. That's just how much you didn't think about him after that bullshit he pulled today.

You complimented each of your friends. Karina especially looked beautiful. Jake Sunghoon and Jay were also extremely handsome, as well as Yeonjun, but unfortunately, one person stood out to you the most, and as much as you tried not to look at him, you couldn't help it, your eyes were glued in his direction.

Heeseung looked so tall and slender. His hair was quaffed to perfection, his dangle earrings just pieced everything together so perfectly, and you were sure he'd smelled just as amazing as he looked in that all-black outfit. You just wished he wasn't such a dick. Otherwise, he'd be literally everything you looked for in a guy visually, anyways.

Heeseung originally wasn't even going to come to the party, but since you were avoiding him like the plague after the incident at the restaurant today, he changed his mind. Plus, Jake wouldn't stop begging him to go.

"Earth to y/n." Karina waved her hand in your face, and you snapped out of it, focusing your gaze on her instead of heeseung.

"O-oh hi," you stutter, and your cheeks immediately heat up, feeling embarrassed that you just got caught ogling your best friend's friend.

"See something, or should I say someone you like?" She teased, and you just playfully pushed her shoulder.

"No," she looks at you, obviously not convinced.

"Okay, fine." You pointed to the guy that was standing next to Heeseung, diverting her from thinking you were looking at him. The last thing you wanted was for your friends or Heeseung to think you liked him cause you didn't. He was just pretty, and that's all.

"Oh, that's Jeongin. Should I introduce you two?" She wiggles her brows with a playful smile.

"No, it's-"she cuts you off and takes your hand, leading you over to the two.

"Hi, jeongin," she giggles. Obviously, she had been drinking earlier from her seemingly carefree demeanor. "This is our new friend, y/n. Isn't she beautiful?" Your eyes slightly widened, and you smiled, trying to look as normal as possible despite Karina putting you on the spot.

He looks surprised upon seeing you both, and he smiles at you, showing one of the brightest smiles you ever saw but still nowhere near as bright as Jake's. "Very beautiful, beautiful name for a beautiful lady." he extends his hand for you to shake, and you do, shaking it gently as you give him a warm smile.

Heeseung looked at your touching hands, and it made him scoff because you didn't shake his hand when you first met him, not that he cared, but still. "I'm going to get another drink," he says rudely, leaving you three alone without saying hi to you.

Once Karina introduced the two of you, she left you both alone, probably thinking she was playing matchmaker or something, but you had zero interest in jeongin. You just made up a quick lie so you wouldn't be caught gawking at Heeseung, but he was really nice. You talked to him a bit more, telling him when you first got here and how you transferred. "How come I haven't seen you around?" You ask to keep the conversation going, and he goes on to tell you about him attending another school, but he comes to parties to catch up with Heeseung and some of his other friends.

Somewhere along the line, Jake and Sunghoon joined the conversation, and you all talked amongst yourselves about anything that came up in conversation.

You took a Quick Look around, and Karina was with some guy you had never seen before yeji was all hugged up with yeonjun, which explains why he was acting all flirty earlier, and now that you think about it, it wasn't really surprising since their interaction in the car plus she told you previously she had a crush on one of her guy friends so you assumed it was him.

You're not sure where heeseung went off to, and you made the mistake of surveying the area further, and you quickly found him he was all alone off in the corner with a cup in his hand, and you kinda felt bad about taking his friend away from him so you politely excused yourself to the bathroom so jeongin and him could finish catching up at some point tonight.

While you were freshening up in the bathroom, a few minutes later, you heard loud screams coming from the living room and people cheering and chanting chug chug chug you shook your head softly, wondering what was so fun about chugging beer.

Once you dried your hands off, you exited the bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. You weren't even five feet into the living room before people started shouting at you. "Chug, chug, chug!" You smile and shake your head, immediately declining, that is, until all your friends appear out of nowhere and start cheering you on too.

"Y/n! y/n! y/n!" Heeseung supposed it was fate you coming in and ruining his fun. He was the one that had previously shotgunned his beer, and everyone was cheering for him. That's until you came along.

Not only did you have to take his friend away from him, you had to take his moment away, too. When was it ever going to be good enough for you?

You quickly gave in to all the cheers and did something you never thought you'd do.

You poked a hole in the beer can, popping the cap open and chugging till all the beer was completely gone. Loud screams erupted from everyone, and seconds later, Jake threw you over his shoulder in excitement as everyone jumped up and down excitedly from your amazing chug, excluding Heeseung.

You tapped Jake on his back, telling him to set you down before you threw up everything you just drank. "Oh, sorry, I was just excited," he apologizes cutely.

"It's okay" you say and pat his shoulder to reassure him while trying to catch your breath. "I didn't think I could do that," you laugh, feeling a slight buzz in your head as everyone jumped to the music and cheered you on.

"Me neither," he chuckled in amazement. "Only heeseung can do that."

You forced a smile on your face upon hearing his name. You also heard a series of cheers, people muttering how someone so innocent-looking could drink so much, and other people talking about how they envied you and how cool you were.

Heeseung was at his rope's end, and he couldn't take it anymore. He approached you with a soft smile on his face, and for once, you actually thought he might have said something nice to you since everyone else was, but boy, you were so wrong. "Good job," he says sarcastically while dumping his full can of beer all over your head, ruining your dress for the second time today. He throws his can on the ground, leaving everyone stunned and speechless by his petty actions. He slams the door on his way out of the party, seething in anger.

Your friends all rushed to comfort them, but you ran off to the bathroom, completely and utterly embarrassed and hurt by the fact he'd do something so drastic. What have you ever done to him to get treated this way? Everything else up to this point was somewhat tolerable, but this was your breaking point. You just wanted to have a little fun, but apparently, that was impossible. Whenever Lee Heeseung was around, you cleaned up the sticky mess as much as you could, but you weren't going to stay at the party cause your night was ruined.

Ten minutes later, you came out. Jake and Yeji were waiting outside for you, and you told them you didn't want to talk about it and you just wanted to go home. "Sorry for ruining your night" you apologized.

"No need, and don't worry, I'll talk to Heeseung. I don't know why he'd do that. He's never acted like that before ever," she says, obviously confused.

You nod your head. You really don't care anymore. You just hoped from now on, he'd leave you alone once and for all.

-

"I was just drunk," heeseung pleads his case to Yeji, who was on his ass about last night. "I thought it might be funny" he lied through his teeth.

"That's not an excuse for what you did, and why would that be funny anyway?" She inquired.

"Fine, I'll do it," he agreed instead of telling her the real reason behind his actions. How could he tell her without sounding completely crazy? "But I was drunk. I just-"

"You had two beers!" Yeji yelled at heeseung and he shut his mouth real quick. "If you're not gonna tell me, just go apologize and stop wasting my time," she dismissed.

He whined and trudge over to where you were sitting all alone in the school library. "C-can I sit?" He stutters nervously.

"You do everything else you want, so I don't see why not," you answer coldly, but you don't care how rude you sound. He didn't deserve your kindness after all the shit he pulled yesterday.

"Whatever, I'm sorry for the other night," he said emotionlessly, not bothering to sit down.

You hummed in acknowledgment, and little did you know that he just ground his fucking gears cause even though he was talking to you and he was the only one around, you still weren't paying attention to him. Was he really just invisible to you? "I said" he closed the book you were looking at, forcing you to look up at him instead. "I'm sorry"

"Okay, what do you want me to do celebrate? Do a back flip?" He shook his head sighing deeply in frustration.

"You could at least fucking pay attention to me. Not everything is always about you, you know?" He agitatedly folded his arms.

"Oh, so that's what this is about. You're just upset 'cause you don't have my attention." You were just playing around with him, but little did you know you hit the nail right on the head.

"N-no, I'm not." his expression falters a bit.

You gasped like you had just made a world-changing discovery. "Hmm, mm, so is that why you're always spilling drinks on me? Embarrassing me so I can pay attention to you?"

"I seriously couldn't care less at all. I just came to apologize 'cause yeji forced me too," he huffs.

"You must care enough to always try and humiliate me.” he stared at you, saying absolutely nothing. "And why are you still standing there?" You question.

"Because you weren't paying atten-” he stops himself before he can finish, his eyes widening when he realizes what he was just about to say. "Just never mind. I don't care if you accept it or not. Just stay away from me.

"Last time I checked, it was you not staying away from me, Mr. I accidentally spilled my coffee," you say with finger quotes. Normally, you would have just accepted the apology and moved on, but you didn't cause he was just a flat-out asshole.

He wordlessly turns his back and walks away. You watch his figure slowly getting further away and shake your head, trying to understand what the heck is wrong with the enigma named Lee Heeseung.

"Did you do it?" Yeji asks when she sees Heeseung walking out of the library. His ears were tinted pink with embarrassment.

"Y-yes," he managed to squeak out in passing, going straight for the men's room so he could wash his face with cold water after embarrassing himself like that.

-

Since then, you and Heeseung hadn't come in contact with each other, safely managing to keep your distance, but that didn't stop you from getting your revenge and being petty as hell.

Whenever Heeseung would talk, you'd purposely interrupt him, taking the attention from him to you, and you didn't miss the annoyed glares he sent your way.

You'd always add in little rude comments under your breath or chuckle whenever he expressed interest in anything.

You admit you probably took things too far, but that's what he gets for not spilling one but three drinks on you, or at least you were convinced all those other times were on purpose.

You were attending another party cause you enjoyed last time minus beer being poured over your head and going home a sticky mess.

Of course, after getting settled in and having a few drinks, you just had to annoy heeseung. It was your daily mission to annoy him at least once a day and give him just a taste of his own medicine. You were already a bit tipsy, so the timing was perfect to say something reckless and not care by the end of the night, especially when you just saw him getting rejected for the second time tonight. Little did you know he was the one doing the rejecting. "Aww, poor little thing," you teased. "He's not getting any attention." You stood next to him in the kitchen, pouring yourself another drink.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed another beer, not in the mood for your bullshit. You'd been getting on his nerves a little too much lately. "Go away," he mumbled.

"Why? Aren't I giving you the attention that you crave?" You giggle, and he looks at you with that same agitation that he always had on his face whenever you were around. "Why the long face, baby?" You're blaming the alcohol for that one, but you can't lie. The shocked look on his face when you called him baby was actually so adorable.

"G-get out of here," he lightly nudged your shoulder with his elbow.

You continued teasing him, seeing just how far you could get under his skin. "Since I'm the only girl giving you attention, why not just take me home?"

"As if, I wouldn't touch you if you were the last girl on earth," he starts nervously gulping down his drink, hoping you wouldn't notice how flustered you were making him right now.

"Come on, it's just one night after all." You trail your hand up his forearm, taunting him.

"Y/n, are you being serious?" He gulped while looking at your hand, which was now slowly making its way towards his pec, and exhaled a shaky breath.

"Hmm," you hum, a seductive smile on your lips as you slip your hand inside his black button-up, brushing your hand over his nipple and sending shivers down his spine. "What do you say?"

"For real? Like right now?" He whispers and bites his lip, eyes already lidded with arousal.

This was the part where you were supposed to burst out laughing and tease him for being easy, but something in the way he looked at you made you fold. He made you fold so hard that nothing else mattered at this moment besides him taking you back to his place. "Yes," you say almost immediately, your fingers playing with the hardened bud under his shirt. You're not quite sure, but you could have sworn you heard him moan.

You probably should have said no, actually erase the probably you should have said no, but it's just one night and with the most attractive man you've ever seen, so you weren't going to pass this opportunity up even if it was a very stupid thing to do.

"Okay," he whispers, grabbing the hand that was inside his shirt and leading you out of the party, both of you praying none of your friends would see you leaving with your enemy.

Surprisingly, he opens his car door for you, making sure you're seated properly before closing the door and jogging over to the driver's side.

He starts the engine and puts his free hand on your thigh. His cold fingers on your bare skin made your body tingle with excitement. "I'm only doing this cause there's no one el-

"Save it, heeseung." You place his hand higher up your dress. He clenches his jaw when he feels the heat forming between your legs, trying to compose himself and safely get to his apartment.

"Hey, just letting you know you're not my first choice," he defends. You roll your eyes. You already know he was doing it cause you were the only girl available to him, not cause he actually liked you or was interested.

"Good to know." The rest of the drive is silent, but the mood is rising as he teases his fingertips along your panties, which have started to dampen.

"Hmm," you moan softly, head drifting back as he toys with your sensitive clit. You grip his wrist, lifting your hips to meet his palm and desperately rubbing yourself against his fingers.

"Fuck” he says under his breath, and he may or may not have hit the gas a little harder when he felt how sticky you had gotten down there.

His apartment was only like ten more minutes away, but it felt like ten hours with the way his cock was leaking and straining in his jeans.

Finally, he arrived, parking crookedly in the driveway cause he was starting to get extremely impatient.

He leads the way to his apartment, fumbling with his keys at the door, and you place your hand over his shaky one. Once you see him struggling, you guide the key straight into the hole and unlock it. He turns to look at you, silently thanking you as he opens the door and flicks the light on.

He quickly removed his shoes, and you followed suit, easily slipping off your flats, and a second barely passed before he picked you up like you weighed nothing and gently laid you down on his bed that was right around the corner.

You couldn't even get a good look at his apartment cause he was already straddling your lower body and unbuttoning his shirt above you.

Immediately, your gaze falls upon his lean torso, your eyes going lower to the prominent tent in his pants, and you impatiently rub your legs together at the sight. You could obviously see his size was above average.

He smiles to himself from your reaction, hands trailing up your thighs, kneading the soft flesh with his fingers, getting closer and closer to your core. Your breath hitches when he traces over your clit, after a few teasing touches to the sensitive bead. He retracts his hands. Your skirt had risen up enough for him to see the wet patch forming on your lavender panties, and the sight alone made his cock twitch in his jeans.

He bends down for a brief moment, resting his hands beside your head and pecking you one time on the lips. His body slithered down the bed until his face was just mere inches away from meeting your core. "So wet," he whispers and presses his lips on the wet spot, inhaling your scent.

"Hee," You arch your back legs, spreading them open for him as you absentmindedly give him the nickname. He looks up at you, eyebrows raised in amusement as you grip the sheets in pleasure.

"Yeah? Say my name again, baby." Much like you, the simple yet endearing pet name mindlessly leaves his lips as he sticks his tongue out, licking you over your panties.

"Hmm, hee." You moan his name. The feeling of his tongue teasing you through your clothes was already more than you could handle.

"Can I take these off?" He lightly tugs your skirt up a little more, his fingertips resting on the waistband of your underwear, waiting to go any further until you give him your permission.

"You're such a gentleman," you tease.

He rolls his eyes. "Is this okay?" He began carefully dragging your panties down, the air in his apartment, hitting your bare core.

“Yes, take them off, please.” You breathe out as your eyes slowly fall shut. He slides them all the way down to your ankles, leaning back and resting on his knees while lifting your leg to fully remove the lacy material. Your panties fall on the bed, leaving your lower half completely naked as he tilts his head sideways and kisses your ankle while gazing at you.

He groans at the sight of your bare pussy, simultaneously sticking out his tongue, licking from the heel of your foot to the base, and your eyes shoot open from the sensation it was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“So pretty,” he says low enough to where you can’t hear him and parts his lips taking your middle toe into his mouth, sucking on it sensually, and you couldn’t deny it was turning you on more than you’d like to admit.

He caressed your leg with his fingertips sucking just a little harsher drawing out the most sensual moans from you. He hummed, releasing your toe with a soft pop, slowly laying your leg down on the bed as the tip of your toes brushed across his broad chest before your leg met the mattress.

You were already breathing heavily even though he’d barely done anything to you yet, and you knew the moment he lays between your legs, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.

He lays back down between your legs, hands moving to your thighs to spread you open as he licked your inner folds up and down, tasting your sweet liquid on his tongue. “So good” he squeezed your thighs, swallowing down your essence as his nose tickled your clit.

He guides his right hand to your entrance and presses his fingers against your hole, easily pushing inside cause how wet and relaxed you are. He hums lowly as your walls tense up on his fingers. “You like that, huh?” He whispers warm breath fanning your pussy as he sensually nudges his nose on your clit and then sucks it into his mouth, enjoying the little sounds of pleasure that you make for him.

“Oh yes,” you looked between your legs, watching the way he fingers your soaked pussy. Every time his fingers go in, they are coated in a new thick layer of arousal, making the lewdest sounds possible between your legs.

He looked so good eating you out. The way he’d eye you from time to time as he hit your spot made your eyes roll back in your head, and your legs shake uncontrollably.

The lewd groans that passed his wet swollen lips vibrated against your pussy, and you couldn’t help but cum on his fingers and tongue. It had only been three minutes if that, but you couldn’t hold it in. He was working his fingers inside you like magic. “Oh hee hmph fuck!” You breathe out, panting as your walls spasm around his digits, and you cum without warning.

“Yes, baby cum in my mouth just like that,” he whispers as you buck your hips on his digits while he guides you through your state of bliss, gently sucking your delicate clit.

You instinctively clamp your legs close well as much as you can, with him being between them. He rubs over your mound, kissing your thighs until your orgasm fades away, and it is quite possibly the best one you’ve ever had.

He sat up, licking the remnants of you off his lips while undoing his jeans, the top of his Calvin’s peeking over the waistband of his pants as he slowly lowered them around his knees.

You propped yourself up, your face inches away from his crotch as you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide and innocent looking as you experimentally placed your hand over his cock, your touch so soft and light that if he wasn’t so sensitive down there, he wouldn’t have even felt it.

He groaned softly, brows knitted together from your slight touch.

You caressed his shaft over the material of his underwear while circling his waist with your arm, bringing his body closer to yours.

You kissed the outline of his cock, easily finding the tip through the thin fabric of his boxers and pressing your warm lips against it. “Ahh,” he hisses and places his hand on the back of your head, stroking it softly.

The hand around his waist drops to his thigh, squeezing softly as you place wet kisses all over his twitching dick. “Tease much?” He chuckled through a moan, his head drifting to the side as he watched your lips pressing softly against his hard-on.

You froze at his words. You weren’t intentionally teasing him. You were just scared to make the next move. “I-I’ve never,” you trail off shyly, silently praying he’d get what you were insinuating.

“Really?!” He sounds like he’s shocked, and you don’t know if that’s a bad or good thing, but you take it as good and move on. “I mean, we can skip this part if it makes you uncomfortable, baby.” he looks down at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb softly.

You shook your head back and forth cause you wanted to go down on him the same way he did for you and return the favor.

“No? Okay,” he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it, but he’d never push for it if it made you feel apprehensive in any way.

“N-no, I want to. I just,” you sighed from your inexperience, feeling a little embarrassed and disappointed with yourself for your lack of knowledge about this. “Can you show me how?”

“You want me to show you how I like it?” You nod immediately after his question, and he hops off the bed, lowering his pants all the way and taking them off. He reaches into his bedside drawer, grabbing a condom, and placing it on his nightstand for later use.

He took your spot on the bed, lying against the frame, feeling honored that you’re letting him be your first. “Come here,” he beckons you closer with his index and middle finger. You crawled next to him, and he placed his hand on your lower back, bringing you in for a quick make-out session to ease you into it, and he was a really good kisser. You were already aching for him just from the feeling of his tongue playing with yours.

He pulled away, leaving you wanting more, with a look of desire in his eyes. His lips were shiny with a mix of his and your spit, and you settled yourself between his legs, your hands shaking slightly as you pulled his hard cock out from the confines of his underwear. He was hot and pulsing to the touch, and the lamp on his nightstand highlighted the head of his cock that was shining with precum. “Go at your own pace, baby,” he says softly when he notices the slight nervous look in your eyes, and his words almost immediately calm you down. He leaned back a little and rested his arms behind his head, getting comfortable as you slowly stroked his dick up and down. “Yeah, just like that,” he whispers and closes his eyes, letting you do what you’re comfortable with.

You unknowingly lick your lips at the sight, mouth almost dripping saliva. As your body reacted on its own, you lowered your head and eagerly suckled the precum off his tip.

His body tensed from the sudden sensation, and when you heard him groan, you quickly halted your movements.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly and just above a whisper.

“No, no, I liked that,” he assures you and places his hand over yours, helping you get used to the motion of stroking him off. “Suck on it some more,” he says as he gets comfortable once again.

You repeated your actions, wrapping your lips around his wide cock head where more precum was already leaking out.

“Hmm yeah fuck” he closed his eyes, head tilting back as you sucked him off. “Sure this is your first?”

You hum in response, your mouth obviously too busy with his hard wet cock to respond with your words.

“Shit, your fucking mouth feels so good, baby. Don’t even gotta teach you,” he says, and that just makes you take him down your throat, eager to impress him more. “Oh fuck!” He whimpers and looks down at his dick buried almost balls deep in your mouth. “Y/n,” he moans your name weakly, and you swear your pussy dripped at just the sound of his pleasured voice.

You stroked the base of his cock, squeezing slightly as you swirled your tongue on the tip licking up the fresh precum that continued to seep out.

His hips jerked up off the bed, abs tensing as you hollowed your cheeks and lodged his tip in the back of your throat. It was so tight and so warm that he couldn’t hold off from cumming. “Keep sucking me, baby. I'm so close fuck, where do you want it?” He squirmed in the bed, staving off as long as possible before he came.

You only make a sound of approval, the pace of your movements naturally increasing the more vocal he gets, and soon he was moaning out so loud as warm spurts of cum gushed inside your mouth and coated your tongue. “Hmph,” you moan around his dick, eyes rolling back to the back of your head as his cum streamed down your throat.

“Fuck yes,” he pants, his cum still filling your mouth, and he tasted so good you swallowed every single drop for his and your pleasure before you pulled off of his throbbing dick, still stroking him through his high until he was finished in your mouth.

He was breathing heavily. Mouth parted just enough for whiny little moans to slip out. “Fuck me,” he huffs as you pull away, kissing his tip one last time. “That felt so good,” he says, voice still a little hoarse from moaning so loudly.

His eyes were lidded, his forehead covered in sweat as he reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully opening the package.

You eyed the condom packet, not all too excited about using one cause you wanted to feel him raw, completely bare, nothing but the feeling of him deep inside of you.

He placed the rubber on his tip and began to slide it down his shaft, but you interrupted him before he could get it on. “No condom,” you whisper, taking it from his hands and tossing it to the floor.

“You wanna do it raw?” He asked to make sure it was what you really wanted, and you nodded, placing a few soft kisses on his thighs. If you were okay with it, so was he. He’d be an absolute idiot to say no to feeling you raw. “Okay, then, pretty girl, lie down for me, yeah?” You lie down, and he gripped the top of your dress, easily sliding it up your body. Pleasantly surprised when he saw you braless, he bit his lip at the sight of your perfect breasts and dragged the material all the way off your body, leaving you completely naked as he maneuvers on his bed, kicking off his boxers before laying on top of you both your clothes now discarded and strewn across his bedroom floor.

He lined himself up with you perfectly, slowly rubbing himself on your pussy, wetting his cock in your essence as your lips came together in a messy kiss.

He hums into your mouth, fully indulging in the way you suck on his bottom lip, and nibble on it slightly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, hands on his pecs as he rolled his hips, pressing his tip on your hole. He looks at you for confirmation, when you nod and whisper a quiet yes. He immediately slips in, his tip dipping inside your little wet hole. He takes it nice and slow, filling you up inch by pleasuring inch, easing himself within your heat until he bottomed out and stuffed you perfectly with his thickness. “So f-full heeseung,” you breathe out, your legs feeling numb already, and he hasn’t even moved yet.

He gripped your thighs, slowly bucking his hips forward, giving you time to get used to the feeling of him stroking inside you. “Fuck you’re so wet” his length throbs inside you, and he could feel he was already so close to cumming your walls, so hot and slick, welcoming him in with no resistance.

You squirm in his bed, still getting used to his size, as he rolls his hips steadily.

He bites his lip and hikes your legs up to your chest, pushing them up with his palms so you can feel him deeper on this angle. The way you gasp from the intrusion makes his cock throb even harder, and he can’t help but feel good knowing he’s the one making you feel so much pleasure. “This feel okay?” He asks with a shaky breath, making sure you’re still feeling good and comfortable. Too bad he wasn’t like this with you outside of the bedroom cause if he was, you’re sure you would have fallen for him by now.

“Perfect, hee” his abs and v lines looked so good while he rocked his hips fucking his cock deeper and deeper into your wet cunt.

He takes your ankle in his hand once again, bringing your foot to his mouth so he can suck on your pretty toes while fucking your sweet pussy. His eyes fall shut, moaning in delight as he partakes in every square inch of your body.

“Oh god,” you whimper pussy tightly squeezing around him from the pleasure.

You locked eyes with him, and you could’ve cum from his stare alone. You never thought it would be so hot to fuck someone that you were at odds with.

You trailed your hands along his sides until they met his sweaty chest, and you gave into temptation pinching his hard nipples between your fingers as he pounded your cunt, going even faster with the added stimulation of your fingers.

He moans around your toes, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he drills your cunt his thighs slapping against yours and his balls hitting your ass with every rough slam of his hips.

Drool pools in his mouth, as his head craned to the side, and it was getting to be just too much for him to handle. He felt himself twitching within your warmth, knowing he was seconds away from his breaking point. “Shit,” he pulled away from your toes a bit reluctantly and lowered himself down on his elbows as he stroked your silky wet walls. “Baby?” He breathes out quickly, feeling closer and closer with every hot pulse of your perfect pussy. “where should I cum?” He whines and rests his forehead against yours.

You wrapped your arms around him, fingernails digging into his upper back as he bottoms out over and over again.

He reaches his hand down, thumb flicking your engorged clit. “Cum in me, heeseung, please,” you begged him, desperately wanting nothing more than to cum around his cock and have him fill you up to the brim.

“Want me to cum in it, yeah? Fill that little pussy, huh? Stuff you full of me?” He groans, the dirty talk going straight to his sensitive dick, and all it takes for him to cum is the sound of your pleading voice.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant with your lips pursed in pleasure. A few more deep strokes, and you both reach the end as he circles your clit you and him finishing right at the same time. “Hee, I’m coming,” you cry out, and he attacks your lips, muffling your noises with his hot, messy kisses.

“Me too, baby,” he pants while moaning into your mouth. The two of you are barely even kissing at this point, just exchanging saliva and heavy breaths as he fills you up and your walls milk him for every last ounce of his creamy cum.

The pulsations between your body reach their peak, and you both sigh in pleasure, low whines leaving your lips as the sensitivity starts to settle in. He slows his pace, stroking you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing as well, careful not to over-stimulate you. “Oh, y/n, you feel so good, I’m cumming so much,” he whispers in your mouth, still messily kissing you in between broken words.

“Hee,” You placed your hands on his butt pulling him closer to you, making him fill you up to the absolute brim with his cock and cum.

He breaks the kiss, face falling into the crook of your neck as you both try to catch your breaths.

You both laid their pupils dilated and bodies shaking, feeling numb from the euphoria overtaking your mind, body, and senses.

“Shit,” heeseung sighs as he slowly pulls out of you, watching your clenching hole drip his release and if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight to him.

He rolls over on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments. “That was actually so amazing,” he chuckled to himself.

“Actually?” You scoffed, and just like that, he was back to his assholish self, not to say you cared. The sex was great, and that’s all tonight was about anyways, not your guy's beef or his shitty attitude. “It wasn’t too bad,” you reply, and now it’s his turn to look at you and scoff.

“What do you mean “not too bad?” you shrugged.

“It means what I said.” he shakes his head in disbelief, wondering why you had to put up a front when you obviously enjoyed it, but whatever.

“Should I drive yo-” Before he could finish, you were already on top of him, straddling his waist.

“I think you should fuck me again,” you smirk, feeling bold suddenly as you trail a finger down his chest to his abs.

He grabbed your waist easily, flipping you over on your back and getting on top of you, pressing his lips on yours. “You sure it was just “not bad?” He says against your lips, teasing you with his words.

“I might need a little refresher,” you said playfully, and he laughed, reconnecting his lips with yours.

Let’s just say you made a personal record of how many times you both made each other cum that night.

-

You woke up in Heeseung’s bed, the light shining from behind his white sheer curtains blinding your eyes. You immediately closed them, grabbing the sheets and covering up. You groaned softly as you stretched out, all the events from last night rushing through your mind, and you didn’t regret not one bit of it.

Heeseung naturally woke up from the unusual ruckus, rolling over on his side and seeing you lying in bed next to him.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, muscles aching from how much energy he exerted on your body last night. He might have gone a little longer than he should have, but it was so worth it. Your pussy was like heaven even when he went soft, he couldn’t help but get hard again and again, and again you and your body were just too fucking perfect for him to sto-

“Eww,” you say upon seeing his sleepy face. It was the furthest thing from Eww, he looked even more handsome in the morning, but you said it just to annoy him.

He sighs, deciding not to fight with you this early, and sits up, blinking the sleep away from his eyes as they fall on his nightstand clock. Needless to say, you were both already running late for class. “Shit, we’re gonna be late,” he groans and extends his arms stretching out his muscles while yawning.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly ripped off the sheets, springing out of his bed, hoping you wouldn’t be tardy after only being there for a short period of time.

Heeseung did the same, neither of you caring about the other. Seeing your naked body, you saw literally every single inch of each other last night from probably every angle, so it didn’t much matter.

You both haphazardly threw on your clothes, trying your absolute best to arrive on time. “I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” he mentions, sleep still in his eyes as he pulls up his pants, and you quickly run to the bathroom before him to relieve yourself.

He shook his head in disbelief that you automatically helped yourself to his bathroom, but he was too tired to give you a piece of his mind.

You quickly swung the door open when you finished, and Heeseung joined you soon after, standing beside you. You couldn’t help but blush from all the marks you left all over his chest last night.

Luckily, he was too occupied washing his face to notice your obvious stare, and you’re thankful for it.

You both brushed your teeth in silence, heeseung squeezing a dollop of toothpaste on the toothbrush he gave to you, and you’re sure he’s just tired, and that’s why he did that cause the heeseung you know, would never do anything nice for you if anything he probably would have squirted it all over your head knowing him.

Once his teeth were all clean, he slathered some deodorant under his armpits and sprayed some cologne. You couldn’t blame him for not taking a shower, though, cause if he did, then he’d definitely be late, which in turn would make you late cause he was your ride, and you couldn’t have that happening.

After you both somewhat put yourselves together, you left his appartment getting into his car, and making a quick pit stop to your house on the way there to get your supplies. Then, after that you were headed to your destination.

Heeseung soon pulled up to the front of the school to drop you off first, and you unbuckled your belt, quickly exiting his car. “Don’t follow me inside” you point your finger at him and he rolls his eyes.

“I wouldn’t want to be caught dead next to you,” he replies harshly as you slam his door shut. He shook his head in disbelief and found a parking space after dropping you off at the door.

As soon as you enter, you see your group of friends waiting for you both at the gate. You went to them first, and Heeseung was trailing after you just minutes later, which looked kinda suspicious and even more suspicious because you both looked wrecked, but at least you were on time.

“Hey, you two finally made it.” Jay was the first to greet you both.

“You two look like shit,” Jake adds with a chuckle.

“Thanks,” you and Heeseung both say and glare at him at the same exact time.

“Woah,” Jake chuckled and put his hands up in defense.

“Where did you both go? I saw you at the party, but I didn’t see you leave,” Yeji asks, concerned. “And you didn’t even text me,” she pouts.

“Sorry,” You gave Heeseung a look, trying to come up with something other than the truth cause if you told them what actually happened last night, you’re not sure if you could ever show your face again. There’s no way they’d let it go, especially Jake.

“She got too drunk like an idiot, and I gave her a ride home,” Heeseung says nonchalantly.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re both here at the same time,” Karina said, raising a suspicious brow.

“Her parents were asleep, so she spent the night at mine,” he tells a little white lie.

“Ahh,” she nods in understanding. “So, does this mean you two are good now?” Karina wonders.

“NO!” You both yell at the same time again, and they all look at you, smiling teasingly.

“Look, it’s so cute they even say the same thing together,” Yeonjun cooed.

“Do you not remember this bastard literally embarrassed me and poured beer all over my head at the party 'cause I took the spotlight off him?” You say through gritted teeth.

“If you weren’t busy being a fucking attention whore that would have never happened” heeseung rolls his eyes.

“Me? Says the guy who can’t eve-“

“Okay, okay,” Yeji breaks it up. Class would be starting soon, and there was no need for the drama. “He apologized. What’s in the past is in the past. If you guys can’t get close, then fine, but just be civil with each other.”

“Tell that to her. She’s the one always starting it,” Heeseung rebuttals.

“Wait, when did this start?” Sunghoon whispers, scratching his head, confused as to when you and Heeseung became enemies.

“After the first party,” Jake whispered back, and Sunghoon nodded in understanding, watching you both go back and forth like toddlers.

“How? You’re the one tha-“

“GUYS!” Yeji cuts you off again, causing you and Heeseung both to let out a long sigh.

“Whatever,” you slung your bag on your arm, going to your first class before you were late, and unfortunately, heeseung would be there with you too. “You’re such a fucking liar,” you say as you walk side by side, forced to be in his company after you walk away from your friends.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he smiles brightly. “Should I have told them we fucked each other like animals all night long, and I have marks to prove it?” He replies sarcastically, his fake smile immediately disappearing.

You cringe at his choice of words, but it was true. “Not that you idiot, I’m talking about you saying I started whatever this is between us.”

“You did,” he shrugs, and before you explode, you enter class. unfortunately, the only free seat is next to him, and your day was already ruined before it even started.

-

The whole day, it was like you couldn’t avoid him. He was literally everywhere being annoying with that ugly, rotten attitude of his.

“Oh, my goodness, shut up,” you groan in annoyance when you hear him going on and on about his rank in a video game. You were just trying to study your notes at lunch in the cafeteria, but he just kept going. You supposed you could have gone to the library, but he could have also shut the fuck up.

“Why don’t you shut up? No one is even talking to your ass,” he snaps back, 'cause this time, he couldn’t just let you get away with being a total bitch to him.

“Exactly, so leave. Go talk somewhere else.” You rolled your eyes.

“Why don’t you go somewhere else? Pretty sure you won’t be missed, especially by me,” he argued back.

“Funny coming from the guy who was literally bothering me all morning,” he laughs in disbelief. You literally did that to him, and now that he did it back to give you a taste of your own medicine, you were making it sound like he was the one with the problem.

“Oh shut up,” he replies while your group of friends just laugh at the situation. You both sounded like five-year-olds having a fight on the playground.

“You shut up,” you reply, and of course, he had to have the last word.

“You shut up.”

“Ugh,” you rubbed your temples, feeling a headache coming on, and you just got up to go to the library instead of hearing another word from this walking pile of heaping garbage.

But before that, Jay had to say quite literally the stupidest shit a person could ever say. “You guys are cute together.”

“What the fuck, Jay? Whose side are you on?” Heeseung angrily replied.

“Jay, take that back before I hurt you.” You held your backpack up, making it look like you were going to hit him with it.

He laughs and puts his hands up, surrendering to your wrath. “Woah woah, I’m on side, heey/n.”

“ME TOO!” Karina shouts out of nowhere before burying her head in her hands, trying to soothe her hangover from last night.

“I second,” Sunghoon joins in, which is just great. He was mainly quiet, but now even he had to get himself into it, which you didn’t appreciate.

“I third,” Yeonjun saluted for who knows what reason.

“I forth,” Jake said, and you felt utterly betrayed cause he always had your back, or at least you thought so.

“Jay!” You and Heeseung say at the same time, with the same tone and same expression, and neither of you could understand why all of them were suddenly entertained by Jay’s stupidity.

“See?! You’re both Perfect for each other.” Jay smiles and claps his hands excitedly.

“I think you’re onto something,” Yeji agrees.

“And here I am thinking I have a best friend, tsk.” You yanked up your bag and headed to the library for some peace and quiet cause not only was Heeseung being stupid, but so were your friends. You’d sooner kiss dirt before liking him.

“What the hell is her problem? How are you even friends with it?” Heeseung asks seriously.

“I think it’s all just a big misunderstanding, and you should talk it out like adults,” Jake suggested, and Yeonjun snorted loudly at the unfathomable idea.

“When cows fly,” heeseung watched you leaving the cafeteria in disgust with his arms folded.

“I’ll have you know it’s actually when pigs f-“

“It’s all the same shit!” heeseung agitatedly cut Jake off mid-speech.

“Well, no, he’s actually right cause cows a- “

“Karina, are you or are you not still hungover?” Heeseung closes his eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to compose himself.

“Yes”

“Then maybe, and this is just a thought.” Heeseung turns to glare at her. “Stop talking.”

“I’ll get right on it, Jake,” she replies to Heeseung in all seriousness, and he can only sigh before resuming his conversation with Sunghoon about his little video game because he had given up on the rest of them for today.

-

Days like that persisted on and on. It was nonstop bickering from you two, so much so that your friends even got a headache whenever you were both together at lunch. At first, they all thought it was cute, but now that it was an everyday occurrence, it wasn’t so cute anymore.

“I liked it better when you two didn’t talk to each other,” Jay groans while covering his ears, but his words are drown out by your endless arguments.

“Just do me a favor and stop talking to me.” You folded your arms and turned your head to the side, ignoring heeseung.

Heeseung’s eyes softened a bit, but his words remained just as harsh. “Okay, and please do the same for me 'cause I’m tired of putting up with you.”

The table suddenly got all quiet, and you heard someone clear their throat after a few seconds.

“So it’s Sunday in a few days,” Yeonjun announced. “You know what that means.”

“PARTY!” everyone shouts, but you and heeseung, you both turned and slightly looked at each other, remembering the events of the last party before turning away and popping your mouths at each other.

“You’re coming again, right heeseung?” He nodded his head to Jake’s question, his mind a little too preoccupied with what had happened between you and him last time.

“Alright, full house, and Jay is the designated driver this time!” Yeonjun exclaimed and jay rolled his eyes at the news. “At least serve me fruit punch” he sulks.

“All you can drink,” Jake pats the sulking boy on his shoulder.

-

The party definitely wasn’t as good as last time, maybe because it wasn’t new to you anymore or maybe it really wasn’t as good as the first one, who knows.

You talked with Jeongin a bit, as well as your other friends, but after about an hour, it was getting to be pretty boring. And you already wanted to go home, but since you didn’t have a ride, you just waited it out a bit cause you didn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.

“What do you know? Your mouth is finally shut.” Heeseung walks over to you for the sole purpose of annoying you, or at least that’s what it seems like to you.

“What do you know? You’re annoying me again,” he chuckled as he took a seat next to you.

“So much for keeping your mouth shut,” he sighed.

“Heeseung, you’re the one who’s talking to me. Don’t you think it’s you who needs to keep your mouth shut?” You said and tilted your head back, taking the last swig of your stale-tasting beer.

“Shut it for me then,” he stated nonchalantly and sipped from his blue solo cup. He made sure no one else was watching before he gripped your wrist and placed your hand on his upper thigh, stroking it softly as he bit his lip at the contact. “Come on, we both know you can,” he entices you.

You didn’t see why you shouldn’t accept the offer. It’d be a thousand percent better than drinking cheap beer and sitting by yourself, and bonus points cause Heeseung wouldn’t be annoying you all night. “Lead the way.”

-

“Fuck baby, keep going, that’s it, keep fucking going,” heeseung cursed from the way you were making him feel. Your pretty, plump lips wrapped around his thick cock while you lay between his legs was a sight to see. The image alone made his dick jump in excitement as you sucked him off like it was your favorite thing to do. “Mouth is finally doing something useful, baby,” You rolled your eyes at him, and even though your mouth was full of cock you still found a way to give him attitude. “Wow,” he laughs in disbelief.

You wanted him to shut his stupid mouth, so you cupped his balls, caressing them softly while lapping at his tip, something you noticed that drove him absolutely crazy. “Ah ah fuck!” he moans, hands clutching the sheets while you kiss the sensitive head of his dick. You hum in satisfaction, your other hand stroking his shaft up and down while you hollow your cheeks and slurp on his cock, taking it in your throat inch by inch. “Oh yeah, y/n, just like that,” he pants, his sweaty abs tensing as he feels warmth building in his lower abdomen. “Uh oh god,” he throws his head back against the bed frame, a soft thud following after. “Cumming” he breathes out, eyes rolling back in his skull as you suck him dry, pumping his base until his balls are empty and your mouth is full. “Slower fuck, p-please slower,” he begs softly, the sensitivity becoming too much for him. You gradually decrease your pace, caressing his length until his orgasm fades, and of course, you have to swallow his delicious cum.

“So good,” you whisper. You just can’t help yourself from saying it as you lick your lips clean of his release.

He smiles almost shyly while you practically savor the taste of him on your tongue, and if he had to guess, he’d say you enjoyed that as much as he did. “Wanna switch?” You shake your head no cause it wasn’t necessary for him to give you head just cause you gave it to him, but apparently, that’s not how he saw it. “Wanna return the favor though, Can I eat you out?” he slowly runs his fingers down your spine while he awaits your answer. “Please?”

“I’d be a fool to say no,” he grins while you switch positions. He levels his face with your cunt getting ready to make you cum in his mouth over and over again.

-

He didn’t just eat you out. He made you cum on his tongue three times while his thick fingers fucked you open for the main event.

You were shaking in pleasure, tears almost falling from your eyes cause his mouth felt too good. He sucked your clit fingered your sloppy hole and licked you absolutely clean, and he did a lot more than just return the favor. By the time you came for him the third time, you could have sworn you were on cloud nine.

“Shit, baby could eat you out all day,” he says after licking your hole one last time, making sure not a drop of your precious essence went to waste.

You would let him, too, cause it felt so good you could just imagine waking up and having him eat you out first thing in the morning. Now, that would be a way to start your day. “Hee,” you moan, running your hand through his damp hair.

He climbs over you, puckering his lips for a kiss, and you gladly accept quiet smacking sounds filling up his room, and you can’t ignore the feeling of his erect cock brushing against your thigh.

He repositioned himself, hands beside your head as he humped against your clit, drawing out the cutest of sounds from you. “Hurry, hee, put it in,” you whine and dig your fingers into his chest, desperate to feel him inside you already.

“Little demanding, aren’t we?” He teases his tip right where you need him most, but he doesn’t push his hips forward just yet.

“Just shut up and stick it in,” you respond, not in the mood for his games when you were in bed with him and you needed him this bad.

“So annoying.” he rolls his eyes, sheathing himself within you, setting a pleasuring pace from the start.

You gasped from the sudden invasion, but soon, you relaxed, allowing him to push in all the way to the hilt. You felt like one with how he molded himself so deep within you, the shape of his cock filling up every single inch of your walls perfectly. “Fuck” you huff out a short breath. “Hee,” your hands run along his chest. The marks you left before still not healed, but he’d be more than okay if you gave him new ones cause it would just solidify that he was fucking you right.

“You get so fucking wet for me,” he grunts, watching himself going in and out, his fingers digging into the sheets. “Look at it” he lifts the back of your head up from his pillows, making you watch him go balls deep in your pussy. “Making a mess for my dick, pussy just begging to be fucked”

“Yes, heeseung, please fuck me harder,” you beg with no shame.

He speeds up his movements right away, the bed frame rocking against the wall as he ruthlessly fucks into you. “Gonna fuck you so deep” he grips your hips, going at it with hard, precise thrust hitting that spot that makes you go crazy. “Feel good?” He can tell it does by the faces you make. “You love it fast and deep, huh?“

You nod frantically, anticipating everything he’s about to do to you. “Fuck me, heeseung fuck me,” you whine senselessly, which only turns him on even more.

Skin-on-skin echoes in the room, the wet, sticky sounds between your bodies making the act even hotter.

He quickens his pace even more, dick fucking into you so hard and fast you barely get a moment to catch your breath.

And just like that, out of nowhere, your orgasm builds at the speed of light. “Heeseung,” you mewl, hands gripping tightly on his biceps, and your fingers dig into the flesh, leaving little red indents in his skin just like he wanted.

“Yeah, pretty?” He answers, his face going to your neck to lightly suck on the skin but careful not to leave any marks.

“Need to cum” he moans softly, hand trailing down to play with your clit so you can cum even faster.

“I have you, baby,” he pants, circling your bud and massaging your walls with his perfect cock head. “Don’t hold it in, baby. Show me how much you like it.” Your legs instinctively tighten around his waist, unable to stop your muscles from contracting around him. You make incoherent sounds, begging him to pound into you harder and harder. “Harder? Such a dirty girl,” he giggles, using his full strength to plunge as deep in you as possible, kissing your cervix with his tip until your mouth hangs wide open, and the only thing that comes out is high-pitched moans of his name. “Feels so fucking good, shit, y/n, love this pussy so much,” he chokes out, sweat beads cascading down his body, his arms flexing as he drills you just the way you been craving for all week, even though you wouldn’t admit it, you could still feel his cock in you days later that’s just how good he was. “Cum with me” he kissed your lips, stilling inside you while he throbbed with every drop of cum he put inside you.

“Yes,” you mumble on his lips, hissing in pleasure, your hands stroking his muscular arms as your high takes over, and your moans sound so lewd, so loud, so filthy, but he loved every last second of it.

“There you go,” he whispers, his hot, heavy breath fanning your flushed cheeks.

“Hee,” you tremble in pleasure, body overwhelmed with the many orgasms he gave to you, and feeling his warm cum spilling inside you was just the icing on the cake.

He exhaled a deep breath, wincing in overstimulation as he pulled out. You both parted from each other, taking a minute to rest and catch your breaths.

Neither of you say it, but you both think about doing that again and again and again.

-

The bickering doesn’t end, and neither does the sex and as time goes on, things only amplify between the two of you, much to your friend's horror.

“I thought I told you not to talk to me,” you say to Heeseung, who was annoying you at lunch just cause he could.

“Maybe I would if you weren’t staring at me like you fucking hate me,” he tsked.

“Well, at least you have one thing right, I do fucking hate you” Heeseung turns to you with a different expression on his face than the usual annoyed one, and for once, he doesn’t fight back. He just keeps his mouth shut and looks down at his barely touched-lunch.

The table goes awkwardly silent, and no one says anything after that for about a solid minute or three, give or take.

“W-whatever,” heeseung clears his throat and grabs his backpack to leave cause the air suddenly felt too stuffy for him to be in.

“Well, that was a bit much,” Yeji says.

“Agreed,” Jake whispers quietly. “He kinda looked like he was hurt.”

“Much? He throws beer on my head, and no one says anything, but I say I hate him, and that’s a bit much. And his feelings are hurt? What about my feelings?” You scoff in disbelief.

“I don’t know. I mean, hate is such a strong word, you know?” Jake replied.

Enough of this, you thought to yourself and moved on to a topic that wasn’t stressful.

“Anyways, do you guys want to come with me? I have to go shopping later.” You start packing your things and getting ready to leave for your upcoming class.

“DOWN!” Jake shouts, and you chuckle.

Thank goodness you’d have some company because then that would keep your mind off that six-foot thing named Heeseung.

-

As much as you wanted him off your mind when Sunday rolled around and you made eye contact with him at yet another party, you couldn’t help yourself. Sex quickly became a routine for you both. Neither of you are the party type to begin with, but you both attended because you knew one another would be there and it would be quick access to sex, so it only makes sense to go to these events link up and go back to his place to fuck each other all night long.

“Hurry, hee,” you say breathlessly as he undoes his pants and pulls them down swiftly, tossing them in the pile of your guys discarded clothes.

He chuckled softly. “For someone who hates me, you sure want me pretty bad,” he gets on top, holding the base of his cock and rubbing your clit with his wet tip.

“Be quiet and fuck me. That’s the only thing you’re good at, and for the record, I don’t want you, just your dick” You gripped the pillows behind your head, back arching as your body heats up with want the longer he teases his tip on your clit.

“You get on my fucking nerves,” he slides it in, leaving you both breathless, and despite the fact that these hookups have been going on for a little over a month, you just can’t get enough of the way he feels so deep inside you, and he can’t get enough of how well you take him and how wet you get just from his single touch.

“Apparently not enough.” Your head falls back as your body relaxes under his.

“That makes two of us,” he breathed out, hoisting your legs on his shoulders as he bucks his hips forward extremely slow, giving you deep strokes until you’re panting and begging him for more. “More? I’m already giving it to you, sweetheart. What more could you possibly want?” He smirks down at your flustered face, and he finds it impossible not to think you looked so beautiful under him, taking every last inch of his hard dick.

“Hee,” you whine, tugging on his blankets. The slow pace was killing you. Your body was overheating. You could feel little tingles all over your skin, and all you wanted was for him to take you raw and make you cum on his cock over and over again as he filled your hole with his cum.

“Hmm, baby?” He leans down and kisses your lips softly. His hands knead the sweaty flesh of your thighs as he slides in and out, his whole shaft slick and creamy with your wetness.

He continues to watch you struggle under him. You try to find the words, but every time you go to speak, he takes your breath away by thrusting particularly hard, only to slow back down and have you on the verge of tears from all his teasing.

“Hee pl-oh god,” Your body tenses, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you slowly get drunk off the feeling of his cock. Your walls were hot and pulsating, begging for him to make you cum, but he didn’t. He kept his slow pace till you completely fell apart for him.

“Hee-“ you gulp down your words, barely able to even keep your eyes open at this point. “F-fuck me harder, please,” You clenched around him so tight a deep groan emitted from his chest.

“Harder?” He picks up his pace ever so slightly, but you can’t complain. At least he was alleviating some of the ache between your legs. “Like this?”

“Hmm yeah, just like that,” you speak up, finally forming something coherent after getting a bit of relief, but your walls still ached to be fucked hard and raw.

“Yeah? Just like that?” He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you still while snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck yes, heeseung, oh my god, so good,” you whimper, muscles tensing with every thrust.

He grunts at your words, sweat slowly building on his hairline.

“So fucking big” You bite your lip, lost in pleasure and far beyond return. “Harder, harder, harder,” you punctuated the words every time he touched your cervix with the head of his cock, and he didn’t disappoint. He immediately started giving it to you harder, just the way you wanted.

Your toes automatically curled when he pulled his cock halfway out, only to slam it back in, making you see stars with each thrust. “Oh fuck” he says shakily, his rhythm slowly decreasing. How could it not when your cunt was sucking him in. “Hard enough?” There’s a soft smirk on his lips, and at this point, you’re at his mercy. The only thing you can do is nod your head, too fucked out to reply with anything other than his name. “Heeseung,” you chant his name over and over again, reminding him with every thrust that he was the one behind your immense pleasure. “I guess so,” he teased, and you wanted to say something smart in return, but you were just too far gone. He had you wrapped around his finger and around his cock. “Aww, come on, y/n, you always have something to say, don’t you? Always cutting me off at school and demeaning me whenever I talk. Where did that go to, hmm?”

You turn your head, the feeling of embarrassment creeping up on you, but he quickly grips your chin, tilting your head towards him, forcing you to look him in the eyes while you take his dick and his condescending words. “Stop,” you whisper, but your walls clench around him, saying otherwise.

“What happened to all the cold glares? You say you hate me, but I’m sure somewhere deep down you’re always thinking about me having you just like this fucking you hard and deep, filling you up so well you can’t even speak. Look at you so fucking desperate for my cock” he breathed through his nose, trying to steady his breath cause this was exciting him to no end. Seeing you so embarrassed but so needy for his cock made him go absolutely feral fucking into you so fast you almost couldn’t even take it. “Yeah, silent now, huh? Maybe you should try that more o-often.” Those are the last words he speaks to you until he goes completely wild, and all you can do is lay there limp and clutching tightly on his shoulders, little whines coming from your pursed lips when his tip bumps your cervix repeatedly.

“Cum-“ he lowers his body on top of you, shutting you up with a kiss.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, brows drawn together tightly, sweat beads dripping from his body to yours. His hand dips down between your shaking legs, rubbing your clit with his thumb, and the grip he feels on his cock when you clench around him almost makes him cum then and there, but he holds it off just a little longer, waiting for you to cum with him.

His hand slips behind your head, pressing your face impossibly close as he kisses you feverishly, teeth clashing, noses brushing against one another, and erratic breaths in between. “Cumming!” You shrill, your walls violently pulsating around him, giving him the green light to let go and flood your insides with his hot cum.

“Oh god, y/n, me too, me too,” he choked out, forehead resting against yours as your faces contort in pleasure.

Needless to say, neither of you were moving from that spot anytime soon.

-

You both went round after round till morning came, trading orgasms back and forth, and you thought the first night was a record of orgasms, but this night ended late in the morning, and you had so many orgasms you couldn’t count on your fingers as well as heeseung, he didn’t know the exact number but Judging by the way your bodies were numb and just how stuffed your cunt was of his cum he could tell it was a lot of times, he didn’t even know he was capable of having so many back to back.

The sex was great, amazing even, but you still weren’t fond of each other. It was obvious both of you wanted sex and more than just once a week, so heeseung, being the smart guy he is, divulges a plan. “Since we do this so often, I was thinking we could set some boundaries,” he declares after pulling out of you and handing you some wipes to clean yourself. He would have done it for you, but he knew you would have made him feel like shit for even offering.

“Like what?” You asked, wiping yourself clean and covering up with his sheets once you were finished.

“Like a contract, so to speak,” he shrugs.

“Okay?” You wait for him to continue.

“So since we both hate each other, things are obviously never going to escalate beyond just sex, but since we’re both single and available to each other, I think we should continue having sex for our satisfaction.” You nod to the first condition you wouldn’t mind continuing to have sex with him. “Like we can fuck and hit each other up whenever, just no strings attached, just purely sex.” he clarified.

“With you, I wouldn’t want to do anything else.” You make a fake puking sound.

“Anyways,” he says with an eye roll. “We can still date and fool around with other people, and if we find someone else we like, either of us can end the contract if we get into a committed relationship,” he says.

“Nope,” you simply disagree for not-so-obvious reasons.

“Why? You scared you might lose me to someone else?” He smiles.

“No,” you deadpan. “Just don’t want your diseases.”

“Damn, you think I just stick my raw dick in anything?” He pretends to be offended, but deep down, he is actually kinda offended. You’d think so lowly of him like that.

“You do it with me,” you shrug.

“I do it for you only~,” he says in a sing-song tone.

“Just continue,” you sigh.

“Okay! then no dating or hookups, and once fall hits, we’ll end it sound good?” He reached his hand out to shake yours for the first time ever, it reminded him of the day you first met and he can’t help but wonder what he did to make you hate him in the first place.

“Deal.” You shook his hand, sealing your deal. “What are you doing?” You asked when he started fishing around in his drawer.

“You know a contract has to have signatures right?” you shake your head in disbelief as he clicks the pen open and starts writing down everything you both just mentioned. “You want to add anything?”

“Yes, from now on, no talking unless we’re having sex.” You plopped down in his bed.

“Okay,” he whispered, writing it down. “Anything else?” He says, playing with the pen between his fingers.

“Also, no looking at each other,” you add.

“Y/n, stop being ridiculous. We can talk and look at each other just don’t be an asshole about it” he goes against your rules.

“I’m the asshole? What about you?” You sat up, getting ready to question him.

“What about me? I don’t do anything.” he tapped his open pen on his notepad casually.

“And see? This is why we can’t talk.” You got upset by his seemingly unfazed attitude and folded your arms.

“Cause you just can’t stop being full of yourself and making everything about you.” He shook his head. “Fine, no talking then.”

“And looking,” you add, making sure he doesn’t forget.

“So fucking childish imagine taking my dick but not looking at me ridiculous,” he laughed incredulously.

“I don’t see why you want to talk.” You threw your hands up in the air.

“I DON’T!” he immediately denies.

“Then shut the fuck up and finish the list so I can go home,” you groan.

He jots down everything, leaving open spaces in case someone wants to add something later on. He signs it and hands it over to you for your signature. “90 days of pleasure,” you scrunched your face upon seeing the title.

“What? You have a better idea?” He looked at you, annoyance clear on his face.

“No, it’s just who the hell names a contract.” You clicked the bottom of his pen, scribbling on the piece of paper.

“Me. Now just hurry up and sign it.” You wrote down your signature and handed it back to him, shaking on it one last time.

“So after 90 days, it will be fall, and our contract will be over,” he states to clarify, and you nod your head in agreement.

-

It had been five days exactly since you both signed the contract, and Heeseung was the first to hit you up.

Heeseung: You available?

You were at home lying on your bed when you received a text from Heeseung, and your heart rate picked up In anticipation of getting absolutely fucking railed by him cause you’d been so busy lately with school, and nothing screamed stress reliever like Heeseung’s dick.

You: Yes.

You reply back and go to your bathroom to freshen up and get ready for your dick appointment.

After you replied yes, heeseung ran a shower and tidied up his room a bit. It was never dirty, but a few things were out of place. He changed the bedsheets to the freshly washed ones in his closet and waited for your arrival.

You text him when you arrive, and he opens the door, allowing you to take off your shoes. As soon as the door shuts, he’s all over you, kissing you roughly as he pins you against the door and starts rubbing his already-stiffened cock on your thigh.

Yeah, this was going to be the best stress relief ever.

-

You woke up in the morning feeling rested and refreshed after getting some last night. You were about to get out of bed, but you found yourself wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, your face buried in his chest as he held you against his warm body.

You didn’t think much of it; it was probably just a habit he had when he slept, but one thing you noticed was how pretty he looked while sleeping.

His mouth was slightly pouted, his eyes closed, and the little labored breaths he let out that fanned your skin were so adorable. Too bad awake heeseung wasn’t like asleep heeseung.

You carelessly took his arms off of you and woke him up in the process.

He sat up a few seconds later, watching you getting ready to leave. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at the clock, seeing that it was still pretty early, especially compared to the one time when you were both running late.

He would have at least offered you some breakfast and a shower if you weren't so mean, but next thing you know, you'd probably accuse him of trying to poison your food or say his tap water was brown.

He reached for his phone on his lamp stand and unlocked it, the other hand going behind his head as he typed away on the screen with a smile on his face and a few giggles here and there.

You wondered who he was talking to so early in the morning and what made him laugh and smile so much, but you shook your head. You didn't care coming or going. You just wondered what his problem was with you. He got along with literally everybody else just fine except you.

Wordlessly, you got dressed and left his room. No words were exchanged between you two, just like you both agreed on the contract.

-

"Things are awfully quiet these days." Jay sparks up a conversation about the two of you, the whole friend group seemingly taking an interest in you and Heeseung for some odd reason. "So you both, like, really aren't talking?"

You shook your head no slightly.

"Why?" Jay questioned.

"Cause he hates me."

"Cause she hates me."

You both automatically glare at one another as soon as the words leave your lips.

"Oh, here we go. Why did you get them going again?" Yeonjun threw his head back in annoyance. All he wanted to do was eat in peace, but you both always had to start something at lunch. The only reason he was still even in the cafeteria was because Yeji was there. If she wasn't, he would have left because the two of you were getting on his last nerve.

Heeseung was fed up and frustrated, but all he could think about was having you in a compromising position, so the only thing you could say was his name and not that nonsense you just spewed out. He didn't fucking hate you. It was you who hated him.

He pulled out his phone right across from you, texting you to meet him in the janitor's closet. Your stomach turned with arousal, and you were so down to do it with him right now. He was your stress but also your stress reliever.

Heeseung abruptly left the table, leading the way to the closet first.

No one really thought anything of it cause he'd occasionally walk out whenever you two started arguing.

After five minutes, you discreetly left the table while the group was discussing something intensely more like Jake's motor mouthing all the drama going around at school right now.

When you knocked on the door, heeseung practically dragged you inside, slamming the door shut and pressing his lips against yours, his hand going up your skirt to play with your pussy right away, and he could already feel you had gotten a little wet.

His kiss was sloppy, and his hands were desperately groping your body. His movements were fast and rushed, almost like he couldn't wait a second longer to have you.

You moaned in his mouth, trying to keep up with him giving him the perfect opportunity to suck on your tongue as he slipped your panties to the side, rubbing his palm on your warm wet cunt.

Your knees buckled from his light touching, and he quickly turned you around, letting your hands rest on the wall that was now in front of you.

He stood tall behind you, hiking up your skirt around your waist and yanking your panties down to your knees. You listened to his belt buckle unclamp, and your pussy throbbed with excitement when you heard the material of his pants dropping to the ground.

He runs his smooth fingers over your folds, cupping your heat as you tilt your head back, moaning and granting him access to kiss all over your exposed neck.

His left hand reached around the front of your body so he could flick your clit a few times before sinking his two fingers inside you, scissoring you wide open, your little cunt already oozing white all over his thick fingers.

Always so wet, he thought to himself, pumping your hole faster and finger fucking your tiny cunt till you involuntarily came around his fingers, creaming his digits in just a matter of seconds while doing your best to cover your moans and hold yourself upright.

You were just a complete mess for him.

"Are you sure you hate me?" he talked against your ear, nibbling your lobe softly as He slipped his two fingers from your pulsing cunt to replace them with his cock. He rested his length on the crevice of your ass, his hands on your shoulders as he humped against you, the warmth of your ass inviting his wet shaft to slide back and forth agonizingly slow.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his veiny cock throbbing in need to be inside of you as he watched you all bent over, moaning from the feeling of him just putting it on you and not actually inside you.

He bends down slightly, aiming his leaky tip at your hole, and he finds it with no problem, slowly inching forward, going slower than usual cause the position he has you in.

He puts his palm on your lower tummy, one hand on your clit, rubbing it to get you off, his cheek pressed against your back as he completely loses himself in the feeling of your pussy, inviting him in so warm and so deep.

"Nothing to say?" He chuckles, keeping his pace steady and not too rough cause you both had to save your energy, given the fact you still had almost a full day of school and activities left.

You couldn't say anything. How could you when he was fucking you so good? The only thing you managed to do was whimper his name as your walls clamped helplessly around him, and you being completely speechless whenever you were with him seemed like it was becoming a new habit, one you didn't want to break anytime soon.

"That's what I thought." He winces as holds most of your weight, keeping you upright, and you're so thankful cause your legs were going to give up on you any second. "Just be quiet and take this dick that you love so much."

You both let out uncontrollable moans doing your best to keep them quiet for the most part as he slowly pumps your pussy to bliss. You clench around him so tight he feels light-headed. Needless to say, he's not gonna last much longer, and the idea of having a quickie with you at school just riled him up even further.

He circles your wet clit, and you arch your back instinctively, his tip hitting just a little deeper, turning you into a wet dripping mess as more of your leak drips down his shaft and coats his full balls.

It's no secret that you're cumming. The way you squeeze him rhythmically lets him know that it's not long before you experience the big O.

"Cumming” he whispers, eyes screwed completely while he stills inside your pussy, throbbing uncontrollably as he spews his hot cum into you right after you come undone around him and it always felt so much better when you both came together, at least to him, anyways.

After a few ragged breaths, the moment quickly ends, and he pulls out, grabbing his pants and tucking himself away while you do the same. He lets you leave first without a single word being exchanged between the two of you. He waits approximately seven minutes before coming out and meeting up with the rest of the group.

"You two are always showing up together" Karina notices. "Are you sure you guys aren't close, and you're not just putting on a show for us?" She grins.

You tense slightly when you hear what she says, but you quickly regain yourself despite feeling heeseungs residual cum sticking to your thighs. "No show is worth being involved with him." You roll your eyes, trying to keep up with the facade.

"That pretty much sums it up," Heeseung says, looking up at everyone with a smile on his face like his dick wasn't still stained in your cum from fucking your pussy just moments ago. "Where are we eating from after school? Cause I'm starving." he clasps his hands together, hoping his diversion tactic works, and it seemingly does when everyone starts fighting about where they want to eat from after class ends.

Next time, you'd both have to be a little more discreet than that.

-

Though it felt like yesterday when you signed the contract, it was already fall, and your 90 days go by in a flash. It was the best and worst 90 days of your whole life, all thanks to a certain someone.

You didn't get along with him, but you have to admit he was your guilty pleasure. He was just that good in bed. Whoever he marries is going to be one lucky girl. Sadly, you could only experience it for 90 days, but you'd take 90 days over nothing at all.

This was the last day you and Heeseung had together, and you were going to make the absolute most out of it.

You both were about fifty-fifty when it came to hitting each other up at all sorts of times and places at school. You'd both go to the bathroom and give each other head before returning back to your friends like nothing had ever happened, and none of your friends had ever caught on even though they were suspicious of you both all the time.

You loved the quickies at school, but the trips to the mall grew to be your favorite cause you and heeseung always made great use of the dressing rooms.

Good times.

You reminisce about the one time you and him were going back and forth per usual. "Is it just me or does anyone else feel annoyed whenever he talks?" Heeseung sighed deeply stopping in his tracks and turning towards you.

"Excuse us." Suddenly, he grabbed you by your wrist, leading you away from the group, and your friends were thankful that at least you could fight in private and not ruin the outing for once.

He took you to some random clothing store that you couldn't quite get the name of cause he already had you locked inside the dressing room, his large hands cupping your ass as he practically stuck his tongue down your throat.

"You just never know when to fucking stop," he groaned against your lips, sliding his hands up your skirt and yanking your black panties down to your ankles, his fingertips easily gliding between your damp folds.

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut as you gripped his shoulders for support as he teased your entrance. "Hee," you whine, head falling to the side while he licked a trail up your neck.

"Shush." he holds his unoccupied finger to your mouth as he slips one digit inside you, and even though he told you to shush, a helpless moan escapes your lips when he buries his finger knuckle deep in you. "Fuck baby, you gotta be quiet" he clenched his jaw, trying his best not to groan from feeling your warm little pussy clamped around his finger so tightly.

"Yes, fuck hee," he nips the skin of your neck, pulling his finger out of you cause the last thing either of you needed was to get caught, especially in public. "No," you whine at the loss, your walls clenching desperately, begging for him to go back inside you. "Please don't stop"

"Then keep that pretty little mouth shut for me, yeah?" you don't know why, but something about the aggressive yet softness in his tone turned you on so much you absentmindedly nodded your head, hand reaching for his wrist and guiding it back under your skirt. "No noise," he reminds you and stuffs your hole with not one but two fingers, and you're not sure how he expects you to keep quiet while he massages your walls with the pads of his soft fingers so well. "Like that, hmm, pretty?" he whispers, his large hand cupping your mouth to keep you quiet.

You nod again, moans getting muffled by his hand, and your eyes go crossed from the pleasure he makes you feel.

He pressed his thumb on your clit, his digits working inside you smoothly, running along your warm, velvety walls, pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come on, give it to me. I know you want to," he whispers in your ear.

At the sound of his voice and his warm breath blowing against your face, your walls collapsed, squeezing around his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit in perfect circles, giving you yet another earth-shattering orgasm to add to your list.

Behind the dressing room doors, your muffled moans could be heard, and the lewd noises of him finger fucking your sloppy cunt.

He slipped his fingers out of you, gently pushing you back on the bench, making quick work of his jeans and belt, too impatient to take his underwear off.

He pulled out his cock from the tiny hole in front, dropping his pants to his knees, giving him just enough mobility to fuck you.

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of his perfect cock as you lay out, waiting for him to take you raw in the mall dressing room.

He bunched your dress around your waist, revealing your perfect cunt for his eyes to feast on as he grabbed the base of his cock, running it along your wet pussy lips.

Your legs circled around his waist, caging his midsection against yours. The angle wasn't ideal, but neither of you could care. You were far too worked up at this point.

His hands went to your waist, holding you in place as he started to fuck into you at a fast pace, and if the employees didn't hear your guy's moans, you're sure they were bound to hear the sound of his sweaty skin clapping against yours. "Shit," he breathed out, stroking your walls, and he couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact you felt ten times better every single time he had you. "So fucking wet and creamy baby," he grits through his teeth. "That turn you on, princess? Making me fucking mad? Down talking to me in front of everyone. Does that do it for you?"

You lay there limp, your hands hanging onto the bench for support. "Fuck” you moan, throwing your head back, relishing in the feeling of his thick cock hitting every single part inside you that makes your toes curl.

"It does, doesn't it? You like making me angry, so I fuck my frustration out on you?" You tighten around his girth, his words going straight to your pussy.

"N-no," you lie. If you were being honest, you did rile him up in hopes he'd take you off somewhere and fuck you back into place.

"Fucking liar," he breathed. "Your pussy is saying otherwise fucking squeezing me so tight I can barely even move" he moves his hands to your ass, tightening his grip as he lifts you up, your lower body no longer in contact with the bench, and you feel his dick hitting deeper and deeper. "Teach you not to interrupt me again," he goes even harder, bullying his tip past your tight gummy walls, invading your hole with his cock so deep you felt like you could feel him inside your stomach.

"R-right there, yes." he slows his pace the moment the words leave your lips.

"I thought I told you to be quiet. Why can't you just fucking listen, baby? You never listen." he starts moving again, and your moans increase in pitch. You weren't trying to, but how could you not scream in pleasure when he was fucking you just right. "You know what?" he sets your lower half down and hovers over you, mouth just inches above yours. "Open," he whispers, and he doesn't need to tell you twice. Your mouth automatically falls open for him. "Take it." he gathers a ball of spit in his mouth, saliva dropping from his mouth to your own to make sure you can't make another sound.

His hips fasten in pace as he lifts up his shirt tucking it under his chin to watch the dirty act of his cock getting buried in your raw creamy cunt. "Finally found a way to make you quiet," he smirks, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it softly.

You mindless nod your head, your brows furrowed in pleasure as his warm saliva rests on your tongue.

"Hmm, fuck, didn't know you could be this obedient for me" he pulled out halfway and collected more saliva in his mouth, spitting it on his shaft before sliding back in, making the wet noises between your conjoined bodies even louder. "Yeah," he breaths out. "Take it, baby, take it, take this fucking cock," he says, mesmerized by the thick white ring of arousal coating his base. His hips slowly losing rhythm, and when he looked at your blissed-out face, he lost it, his length throbbing at the sight of you holding his spit in your mouth while filled with his girthy cock. "All yours," he whispered through a moan, the words slipping past his lips absentmindedly in his dazed state.

He rubbed your clit faster, knowing he wouldn't last more than a few seconds longer. "Cum for me, C-cum on me, y/n," he moans softly. His words make you cum simultaneously with him, and you feel him release deep inside you, filling up your slick pussy with copious amounts of seed. "Good," he breaths out. "Swallow me," he whispers against your lips. You comply, unlike all the other times when you fought against him. His lips find yours in a messy kiss as you both indulge in your highs together.

Needless to say, from then on, you purposely riled him up so he could take his frustrations out on your body.

Sadly, that was just a memory, but you couldn't wait to get out of school today because you have been fiending for him.

You needed him like right now, but currently, Jay was holding you up, talking to you about something you couldn't quite pay attention to because your core ached for none other than Lee Heeseung.

And it didn't help when he walked past and saw you both talking together. You know you weren't supposed to be looking at each other because of the contract, but you couldn't help it, and you also couldn't help but clench around nothing at the sight of him, your eyes traveling to his crotch just thinking of all the things you wanted him to do to you or you wanted to do to him.

“Y/n?” Jay waves his hand in front of your face, trying to gain your attention.

"Hmm? Sorry, I must have spaced out," you giggle nervously, and luckily, Jay didn't seem to catch on to you shameless ogling his friend.

"So anyways, like I was saying," Jay goes on to tell you again, and you feel so bad 'cause you still just couldn't focus, not with Heeseung within twenty feet of you.

"Just look at her," Heeseung says, not being so discreet about looking at you, but fuck that part of the contract. It was stupid, respectfully. "I can't stand her. She's so fake you can see it all over her face," heeseung grumbles.

"I don't know man, she just looks like she's having a good time to me. Sure you're not just jealous that she's talking to Jay and not you?" Jake teases.

"Of course, I'm not. Why would I be? It's not like she's my girlfriend, and I don't fucking care what she does. All I'm saying is that she's fake as fuck. She acts all cute and bubbly with everyone except me, and then when I say something about it, she makes me look like I'm the crazy one," he rambles.

"You sure?" Jake pushed on.

"I'm sure, she can talk to whoever she wants, unlike her. I'm not desperate for attention," he says while stealing glances at you every now and then.

"Dude, do you even hear yourself? You're the only one bothered. You keep saying attention, attention, attention, but every chance you get when she's not around, you talk about her bringing even more attention to her." Jake can't help but point out the obvious.

"You know nothing at all, but you'll find out one day," heeseung says, total nonsense, and quickens his steps, getting in front of Jake to pull out his phone and text you so you could get out of jays face and in his, he definitely wasn't jealous or anything like that, he just didn't want anyone being manipulated by your double personality.

Immediately after receiving his text, you politely excused yourself from Jay, telling him you had to use the "restroom."

Once you make it inside, he pulls you into his body, quickly dropping to his knees, his hands working to pull down everything and eat you out. He does it sloppy, wet, and messy, but you don't care, too lost in pleasure to think of anything else other than his hot tongue slithering through your engorged folds.

He adds two of his fingers in the mix, running them along your soaked slit while sucking on your swollen clit with great enthusiasm humming and moaning at the taste of your wetness hitting his tongue.

He looked up at you, his round pretty eyes staring into your own as he finger fucked you. Your legs were shaking, knees slightly bent, and he wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you closer to his face and stabilizing your shaky posture. "Baby," you say in a daze-like state, hands resting on his broad shoulders while his mouth delivers heaven to your core.

He hums against your heat, flicking his tongue on your clit expertly until you come all over his warm tongue. "Heeseung, fuck me, so good, so fucking g-good," you stutter and grip the wall behind you for support, your other hand running through his soft hair and pushing his face even closer to your cunt as he cleans you with his tongue till every last drop is out of your pretty pulsing hole and down his throat.

He takes his fingers out of you sucking them clean of everything, and the sight already has you turned on again even though you just came, but you couldn't risk going another round and getting caught.

He helps you pull your panties up and straighten out your skirt. He stood up and grabbed the door handle, ready to leave, which had you confused, and despite the no-talking rule, you couldn't help but break it just this one time. "What about you?" You stood up along with him.

"We can't risk getting caught. You can make it up to me later if you want, okay?" he rushes out, hand twisting the knob of the door.

"But we always trade. Let me get you off and help you with your problem down there." You cupped his bulge, massaging him lightly through his jeans.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you love me," He jokes.

You don't bother responding, only sinking to your knees, making quick work of his pants. Once his bottom half is naked and exposed, you inhale his cock sucking him off to the best of your abilities to make him cum as fast as possible.

Which was only two minutes, and that was definitely record time. "Fuck, I'm cumming already," he pants, losing control over his hips as he fucks your throat carefully and holds your head in place while you suck his balls dry. "Shit baby," he sighs in pleasure, letting himself go, his head lulling to the side as he pats your hair. You bob your head, tongue moving in an up-and-down motion on the underside of his cock before you pull away, swallowing his cum like always; you kiss his tip, topping him off perfectly.

You helped him wear his pants correctly, just like he did with you. You gave him a flirty smile and a wink before you left the restroom, leaving him a frazzled mess from the head you just gave him.

-

Since that wasn't enough for either of you, later that same day, you both texted each other literally at the same time. Your text bubbles appeared on each other's screen, and luckily, heeseung was alone cause he had a goofy little smile on his face, but that's before he caught himself and realized the pain in the ass he was talking to.

You: My place or yours? My parents are out of town

Heeseung: Yours

He responds immediately. You two haven't done it there yet cause of your parents always being home, but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to have you begging for him in your bed.

-

The sun set and rose with heeseung still lying in your bed, and 90 days are now officially up.

"Good morning, y/n," Heeseung stretched out his limbs, yawning and draping his arm around you.

"Get the fuck off" You pried his arm off, and he chuckled. "And why are you talking to me?"

"Contracts up." Oh yeah, the contract. It's too bad it's over. You wouldn't have minded just a couple more days with him cause somehow 90 just simply wasn't enough.

You turned to him and admired him for a few seconds. You wished you just had at least one more day cause he looked so sexy in the morning with his sleepy eyes and bed head it took everything in you not to just go under the sheets and suck his-

"Well, I better go. You look like you'll burn holes through me with that stare," he awkwardly laughed and stood up from your bed, yawning as he got dressed for the day. After he had finished putting his clothes on, he reached into his overnight bag, pulling out the contract. "Guess we don't need this anymore." he walked back over to your bed, letting the sheet of paper fall on it.

"You guessed right." You grabbed it, ripping it in half and then again for extra measures.

"Did you really have to rip it?" He mumbled as he grabbed the torn paper off your bed, examining the damage you had done to it.

"It's just a stupid piece of paper." You threw the blankets over your head, groaning loudly, pretending that you weren't affected by this being your last day with him.

"Yeah, just a piece of paper." his lips formed a thin line, and he stuffed the little pieces of paper back into his backpack. "Bye, y/n." he reached for the doorknob and looked back at you one last time before leaving, assuming you'd say it back, but you never did. "You could at least say it back, you know." He stopped at your door.

"Can you please just get the fuck out? I would like to get some sleep without a pig snoring next to me," you sighed. He didn't snore, but you said it just to piss him off.

"Still a complete bitch, I see" You yanked the covers back, revealing your angry expression.

"And now I'm a bitch? Last time I checked, you were the one that hated me, and now you want me to say bye? Over my dead body," you plopped back down.

"I don't want you saying shit to me, but maybe just act like a normal fucking human being for once and not an asshole" he walked and slammed your bedroom door.

You sighed and flipped over on your bed, hoping to get some more sleep cause you could already feel today going like shit, complete shit, especially since you and Heeseung could talk to each other again.

-

Surprisingly enough, you didn't have any contact with Heeseung. He made sure to sit the furthest away from you. He didn't look at you nor scoff whenever you laughed, not even an eye roll.

You didn't know he was capable of leaving you alone, but you're glad he did. It's not like you missed your guy's daily banter every week.

"It's eerily quiet toda-"

"Jake shut the fuck up" Jay shoved him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, that's in the past," Yeonjun says with a full mouth while Yeji scolds him for not chewing his food properly.

"Does anyone have an extra eraser? I forgot mine." Heeseung looks up sheepishly from his notepad, ignoring the conversation prior to his question.

"I," Karina raised her hand, fishing out an eraser for him.

Your hand was already automatically reaching into your bag for one before she even said anything, but you dropped the eraser once she gave him hers. It's not like it bothered you that he was using hers and not yours; besides, you didn't want to share anything with him anyway. It was just a reflex, that's all.

You didn't even notice, but after a moment, you sighed, and when you did, Jake gave you a little knowing smile, but you tapped his shin under the table before he even started his nonsense, the smile quickly disappearing from his face.

"Thank you~" heeseung sings and goes back to doing whatever it was that he was doing.

"You're welcome," Karina replied while drawing some little figures on her piece of paper.

The rest of the day passed by like normal, and for the first time since you met you and Heeseung didn't fight, but for some odd reason, you just didn't feel like yourself, so you opted out of the plans you all had made earlier.

"You sure?" Jay asked once you all left school and were standing outside the gates. "We can always reschedule."

"No, it's fine. Just bring me something back," you tell him playfully.

"Will do," Jay chuckles.

"Well, bye guys, see you all next week," you bid your goodbyes to everyone.

"Hey, why don't I drive you?" Jay offers.

"NO!" Heeseung shouts, gaining the attention of everyone, and his ears turn a shade of pink. "I-I mean I'll drive her 'cause it's closer to my place, and I had to get something before we leave, you know?" He gulped eyes nervously shaking back and forth.

"We're just going to the store. What do you need at home?" Jay says, confused.

Heeseung stood there looking for a feasible answer, but he found none, and he could feel sweat starting to form on his palms and hairline.

"You said your wallet, right?" Jake nudged heeseung on the shoulder, silently telling him to play along.

"Y-yeah, oh yeah, my wallet," he laughs nervously.

"Don't you have the pay function on your phone-"

Jake quickly cuts Jay off. "His phone is dead, he told me earlier." Heeseung nodded immediately.

"Well, okay then," Jay gives you a small smile and waves bye to you one last time.

"Hurry up, let's go." Heeseung brushes past you while side-eyeing Jay in passing.

You follow behind Heeseung silently as he opens the door for you. "I can just walk."

Heeseung doesn't say anything and gets in the driver's seat, buckling in before driving you to your destination. When you get on the road, it's completely silent other than the calm music he plays on his radio. "You could," he replies to your statement at least five minutes later.

"Then, if it's all the same to you, I want to get out," you say, clearly not in the mood for his attitude.

"I'm not stopping, plus it's starting to rain, and the last thing I want is for you to blame me for why you get sick." he hits the brakes, slowing down for the red light.

"I don't care jus-"

"Don't start this today. Just take the ride" he shakes his head and presses the gas. Once the light turns green, you sigh in annoyance but remain silent after accepting the ride home.

He stops outside your house right at the curb, putting his blinkers on just in case. He then unlocked the door and reached over his console to unbuckle your belt and open the door for you. "See you at school tomorrow, y/n," he says as you step out of his car.

"See you" you whisper feeling awkward after finally acting somewhat civil with him for once, you walked up to your house and, he slowly pulled away once he saw you got in safely.

-

Everyone was gathered around the table at the cafeteria, eating in silence for once.

Jake is the first one to break the silence. "Hey hee, can I talk to you for a minute, like in private?" heeseung nodded to Jake and scooted his chair from the cafeteria table, following him to a quieter area.

"Mind telling me why you lied and have been avoiding me since the other day?" Jake raised a questioning brow.

"What do you mean?" Heeseung's eyes travel anywhere but Jake's.

"You know what I mean the other day when I saved your ass" Jake gives him a little refresher.

"Oh, that," heeseung chuckles awkwardly.

"Yeah, that, now give me an answer, Mr Lee" Jake puts his hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently.

"So it's kinda embarrassing, but if you must know, I had to go to the toilet," Heeseung lied.

"What's wrong with the school toilets?" Jake furrows his brows in confusion.

"I don't use them," he says quickly, which makes him look even more suspicious cause this was news to Jake. "And besides saves gas cause I'm closer to y/n's house so it just makes sense you know?"

"Hmm, mmm." Jake rubs his chin in thought, his eyes narrowing at Heeseung, trying to detect if he's lying, but he finds nothing. "Okay!" he smiles brightly and pats heeseung on the shoulder, leading them back to the cafeteria. "I thought you wanted to be alone with y/n."

Heeseung laughs breathily, a relieved breath following after. "Not in a million years." he kept his act up, hoping no one was catching onto him.

When he sits down, everything else seems to be normal, and thankfully, Jake seems none the wiser and doesn't bring it up again.

-

Heeseung: 👀

It's eight at night when you receive a text from Heeseung, which is unusual, of course.

You text him back, interested in why he's hitting you up cause the contract has been over for days now.

You: 👀

Heeseung: Didn't think you'd answer 😳

You: What do you want? 🙄

Heeseung: I know the contact is over, but I was kinda sorta thinking about you 😅 and I was wondering, since it's Sunday night and we’re both not going to the party, maybe you could come over just for old-time's sake.

You: Old times sake? It's not even been a week, heeseung.

Heeseung: Okay, you got me there, but are you okay with coming over?

You chewed your lip in thought, but who were you kidding? It was Lee Heeseung. Of course, you were coming over.

You: I'll be over in half an hour.

Heeseung: See you then.

He would have offered to get you, but nine times out of ten, you'd say no. Plus, he had a little something to do anyway, so this was perfect.

Heeseung sprinted out of bed after he sent his last text.

He scrambled to his cabinets to prepare everything. He set up candles on either side of his bed. The smell of air freshener was all throughout his room. The lights were dim, which set the mood perfectly, and he couldn't forget to sprinkle some rose petals on the edge of the bed and don't even get him started on the bathroom.

Why is he doing this?

Well, because since the beginning, he had a little crush on you that blossomed into a fat one.

The day he laid eyes on you, he was utterly mesmerized by your beauty but also so shy he practically hid himself behind Jake when you introduced yourself cause he was too nervous to even speak in your presence.

But when you ignored him, it hurt his heart cause even though he just saw you, it was like love at first sight. His heart was racing, and his eyes were full of adoration. He was so happy Yeji was friends with you, and he couldn't wait to talk to you and get to know you more.

But that sadly didn't happen cause you didn't seem to have any interest in him the way he did you.

After a while, everything you did annoyed him, not cause he was annoyed by you, but he was annoyed cause everything you did didn't involve him. He wished you laughed at his jokes. He wished you talked to him. He wished you looked at him the way he looked at you.

Again, it just didn't happen; however, when you approached him at the party that one night, he couldn't pass the golden opportunity up. He was not easy by any means. He was definitely a man of standard. It's just it was you. How could he say no? Even if you didn't like him back, he said yes, because all he wanted was to get close with you anyway he could, and it just happened to be in the form of sex, but he wasn’t complaining cause your body was just as amazing as your personality.

Fast forward to the contract part. It was his poor attempt at getting closer to you; nevertheless, when you said no talking or looking at each other, that foiled his plans immediately. He still kept at it though for one reason, not sex, the sex was perfect don’t get him wrong, but the fact that you said your 90 days together would strictly be just you and him meant you wouldn't be dating any guys or seeing anyone but him, which meant he'd have some time to try and win you over but unfortunately the 90 days flew by and your relationship was the same if not worse.

Despite it all, he still didn't want to give up on you the last few days. He wasn't ignoring you cause he didn't like you. He was just trying to give you some space and show you he respected your boundaries. Maybe then he'd win a few points with you, and he was also brewing up a plan to see if maybe he could mend your guy's enemies' relationship and turn it into what it should have been from the start.

He had to cause he couldn't take the idea of not being your friend. You were great. You were funny, smart, caring, considerate, modest, and every other good word in the dictionary he could think of, not to mention the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his two eyes on.

He knew you wouldn't come over just to hang out with him, so he kinda bribed you with sex, but that wasn't the only thing, he was going to give you a nice long night full of pleasure, and if he could convince you he was going to treat you to dinner and a movie and ask you a very forward but important question.

Around half an hour later, he heard your soft knocks on the front door, and he had just finished setting everything up, which was perfect. The plan was already going so smoothly; he exhaled a deep breath before answering the door. "You got this, heeseung," he said to himself and opened the door, revealing your figure, and you looked absolutely stunning as always. "You look beautiful, y/n." he stared at you, awestruck like a deer in the headlights.

And you don't know why, but it sounded so genuine you couldn't help but become flustered. "Thank you"

"You're welcome," he sighs dreamily as he watches you discarding your shoes at the door, and he prays by the end of the night. This wouldn't be the last time you came over. "Come with me." he grabs your hand, leading the way.

You entered his bedroom, and it smelled like lavender, which was your favorite scent. You couldn't help but notice the rose petals and the candles, and you wondered why he decided to go all out tonight. "Who knew you could be so romantic?" You teased.

"I try." he came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and engulfing your frame. "You like it?"

"I love it, but hee, what has gotten into you?" You say trying to sound annoyed but you can't bring yourself to, not when he's hugging you so affectionately and his fingertips are tickling your sides making you giggle like a schoolgirl.

"You" is all he says as he caresses your skin and makes out with the side of your neck. Your mind goes blank after feeling his soft lips on your skin, and nothing but the thought of having his body fills your brain.

"I'm so glad you could make it," he whispers in your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it as you crane your neck to the side.

"Me too," you reply softly, your eyes falling shut as his smooth fingertips trace your sides up and down.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, and finally, your neck, leaving wet open, mouth kisses on your sensitive spot.

"Hee," you moan shakily, and he slips his hands under your shirt, tracing his index finger around your navel, one hand dipping inside your shorts and the other cupping your bra-glad breast.

“I'm here, baby,” He whispers, pressing his body flush against you, his hand rubbing over your clothed mound, the hand on your chest slipping inside your bra to play with your hardened nipples.

Your back arched naturally, and you whined when you felt his stiffness twitching on your backside.

He moans breathlessly, his warm breath tickling your neck as he sticks his tongue out, licking the spot he just kissed over and over again.

His fingers slipped your panties to the side, and when you felt his bare skin on yours, you gasped loudly. His warm fingers massaging your sensitive folds was the best feeling in the world. He always knew just how to touch you to make you want him. "You're really wet," he emphasizes with a deep groan while tightening his grip on your left breast.

"All because of you," you tell him truthfully, and he smiles softly at your words, pleased to know he’s pleasuring you just the way you like it. "You always get me so wet, baby."

He melts when you call him baby, his chest filling with nothing but warmth, his hand teased your opening, dipping his middle finger inside you just deep enough to make you want more. "Is that right?" he says, completely fascinated by your arousal as he slips his finger right inside with ease.

"Yes," Your legs tremble from the pleasuring intrusion. You'd think after having him almost every day for 90 days, you'd get used to the feeling, but you never did. It just felt better and better each time. "Feels so good," you whimper.

"Yeah?" He nibbles on your neck, his hands still working magic all over your body, and when he rubs himself against you, you just can't wait anymore.

"Please hee, I c-can't, c-can't wait," you breathed out every square inch of your body, ignited by his touch while your juices were running down his fingers and wrist, and you were more than ready to take him at this point.

"It's okay, baby, I got you." he pressed his cheek to yours as he reached down, easily dropping your shorts and panties. "Arms up for me, baby." he leans back, and you lift your arms, obeying his command. "Just like that." he kisses your cheek, lips soft and moist as he proceeds to seamlessly unclasp your bra. The material hits the floor, leaving you completely naked, all for him. "So pretty." he pecked your shoulder, hands running along your perfect curves. "Lie on the bed." You walked over to his bed and laid down, head already in a daze-like state. Watching him strip in front of you was a sight to see. Once he was undressed, he climbed on the bed hovering above you; you gripped anything you could reach, one hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you as you eagerly pressed your lips against his. He moaned into your mouth, a little taken aback by your excitement, but he couldn't say he didn't love your sudden enthusiasm for him.

His hard length rubbed across your core, and you needily bucked your hips, grinding yourself against him to feel him more. "I want you so bad." You verbalized your need for him, and again, your lips were meeting his in a messy, desperate kiss.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart." A warm feeling spreads through you at his words, and it's definitely not your arousal this time, he leans back, resting his forehead against yours as you both close your eyes and take a breather to catch your bearings.

He lays on top of you fully, your legs wrapping around his waist as he bucks his hips into you, his shaft rubbing your glossy pussy. "So good," he whispers and angles his hips perfectly with your entrance, thrusting forward in one smooth motion, sinking himself within your body. "Y/n," he breathes out, the feeling of your warm walls inviting him in, never once failing to leave him breathless.

"Hee, you're so perfect." You placed your hand on his cheek, the other on his arm, and you couldn't stop yourself from making out with his lips, but he wasn't complaining cause your lips were one of his favorite parts about you.

His thrusts were slower than usual, allowing you to feel every ridge, dip, and curve, even the slightest pulses here and there as his girth filled you up so perfectly, you're sure you'd never find anyone better than him in bed, and you didn't want to. He knew all the right things to say and all the right places to hit to have you a complete mess under his perfect muscular body.

He squeezed the pillow beneath his hands, trying to ground himself as he rutted forward. You took him in so well his balls were touching your soaked outer lips as his tip kissed your cervix with each and every thrust. "Oh fuck” his voice vibrates in his throat, eyes rolling in the back of his head. "You're so amazing, y/n." he bites down hard on his bottom lip. "You feel so good.

You clench at not only his words but the blissed-out expression on his face. He always looked so good while he was stroking deep inside you. "Come here," you chuckled softly, pulling him down by his neck as you kissed him once more.

He knows you so well by now that he doesn't need you to tell him that you're close cause he can feel it. "You must really like my lips, huh?" He giggles, and you're not sure how he could look so cute yet be so sexy at the same time. Little did you know he was thinking the same exact thing about you, too.

"Something like that," you smile, parting from him long enough to say before capturing his lips again.

"Yeah, it's a little something like that for me too," he whispers against your lips, and you can feel him smiling, which in turn makes you smile. Without a doubt, this was the most romantic interaction you've had with each other so far, and you loved every single last second of it, and he's happy he could say the same.

You could barely keep up with his kisses once he started massaging your clit. "Hee-" he cuts through your words, sucking on your tongue softly, his thumb rubbing your tiny pearl faster till you're clasping tightly around him.

"Cum with me," he whispers just as he feels those familiar tingles in his lower stomach. "Y-y/n," he stutters. The sound of him moaning your name does it for you, all the pleasure finally dispersing throughout your system.

"Hee," you held onto him tightly, coming undone right on time with him. This was by far the best sex you've had with each other. The setting was perfect. It was slow, it was intimate, it was everything both of you wanted in the bedroom, and on top of that, there was no smart talk, just you heeseung and his beautifully decorated bed.

You were both panting softly, trying your best to catch your breath after that amazing experience.

He rode out your highs together, gently rolling his hips until the pulsations between your bodies faded away, slowly pulling out so he wouldn't overstimulate either of you.

It was quiet and peaceful, only the sounds of your breaths filling the room, along with the smell of roses and candles. "Thank you for coming over," he smiled softly, giving you a small peck on the lips and covering your bodies with the blankets. You blushed shyly because why the heck was he acting all sweet? Suddenly your heart couldn't take it, you had gotten so used to mean heeseung that seeing him be nice to you felt weird but strangely good, you liked him like this.

Obviously, you got to see the real Heeseung. He was great. He was smart, handsome, and very gentleman-like, and whenever he talked, you could see the passion in his eyes as he went into great detail about whatever he was interested in at that moment. He was the life of any party, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to be his friend or maybe even more now that he was being himself around you.

You wished to be included in the conversations he had with others. You wanted him to acknowledge you, and what are you even talking about? This was just meaningless sex between you and him, and none of that was ever gonna happen, but that didn't stop you from at least entertaining the idea a little or maybe even a lot.

You kissed him back as a nonverbal thank you for tonight and he gave you a giddy little smile in return, you were about to get out of bed and do your normal routine then leave cause you didn't want to get used to any of this, knowing it was your last time with him, it was already hard enough just leaving his arms.

"Hey, wait," he quickly grabs your arm, gently pulling you back down into bed with him. "I'm kinda hungry. Do you want anything?" He raises a question, trying not to be too obvious about casually asking you to stay and have dinner with him.

"You're just trying to fuel me up for another round," you say, giggling and pulling away from him.

"Maybe," he smirked, but when he saw you were actually getting ready to leave, he quickly turned serious. "Wait, no, y/n, I'm serious. I'm thinking Chinese or pizza."

"Fine, I'll have pizza." You roll your eyes, attempting not to smile at his kind offer.

"Topping?" He asked as he grabbed his phone off the night stand, his heart racing with excitement and nerves cause so far, the plan was still going accordingly.

"Pepperoni and…."

"Pineapple"

You both say at the same time, and heeseung smiles to himself. "So cute," he whispers to himself typing in the order.

"What?" You say, shocked that he actually knows your order.

"You heard me" he quickly places the order and peels the blankets off his body. "You can use my bathroom to shower and I'll change the sheets."

He says it causally like this is just something the two of you normally do.

"Am I missing something?" You say, confused.

"Not that I'm aware of, no." he puts on a pair of boxers and starts removing the sheets. "Quickly before the food arrives. I don't want you eating it cold, and there's an extra robe in the cabinet," he says, all while never making eye contact with you cause he knows if he did, he'd be a red stuttering mess, he doesn't even know how he kept it together this long.

You stood there speechless because what the fuck was going on in that brain of his for him to treat you this way after everything, or was this just his way of trying to get you to keep coming over for sex now that the contract was over, but you doubt it, he didn't seem like the type and this would be a little extreme just to have sex so why is he doing all this just for you?

You chalked it up to him just being nice to you for once and went on to take your bath. When you opened the bathroom door, you gasped at the sight. It was even more beautiful than his bedroom. There were more candles on the edge of the tub with rose petals at the bottom. An incense was burning, and it smelled so good you never wanted to leave, not to mention the temperature was absolutely perfect.

You opened the cabinet, a fresh white robe waiting for you, just like he said. You put it on and turned on the faucet, running the temperature just right. As you waited for the tub to fill, you used some of the bubble bath he had set up along the edge of the tub. You heard a soft knock, and the door opened behind you a bit later. "Mind if I join you?" Heeseung asked, and you could have sworn he was blushing cause he couldn't even look at you.

"Not at all," you tell him, and he sighs in relief, his shoulders loosening up a bit as he walks over to you and bends down slightly, kissing your forehead.

You stood up on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he undid the string on the front of your robe, letting it hit the floor. You kissed his lips softly and pulled away, running your hands through his nape hairs. He smiled at you lazily, and you don't know why or how, but everything that was happening right now felt so natural, as if you'd been together for years.

You moved your hands from around his neck, and that was his cue to take off his underwear and step into the tub. First, he reached his hand out for you to join him. Once you were both inside, he sat at the back of the tub, guiding you to lay in between his legs, your head automatically resting comfortably on his broad chest as he smoothed his hands all over your skin, caressing your body, it felt so relaxing to be in his arms in the warmth of the tub while he pampered you and kissed your shoulders ever so softly.

He hummed a soothing tune and popped the cap off the body wash, using the vanilla-scented gel to wash your delicate body with. "Hmm, that smells nice. Where did you get it from?" You asked him.

"You know the day we went to the mall and you weren't feeling well?" You hum in acknowledgment.

"Well, you asked for something, so I got all this for you." he was happy you couldn't see his face, but he was sure the erratic pounding in his chest gave him away.

"So you planned all this?" You chuckled.

"Maybe," he laughs softly, kissing the crown of your head.

"Hee, that's so sweet of you, thank you." You reached your arm behind his head, bringing him in for a short kiss.

"You're welcome, y/n." he looked at you with the sweetest eyes you've ever seen, and you didn't want to look away for even a second.

-

An hour passed by, and you both finished your very relaxing bath. He stepped out first and gave you a new, clean robe to change into. "So your clothes are kinda in the washer." he scratched his nape nervously. "But you can wear mine if you want," he suggested hesitantly while wrapping a towel around himself.

"Sure!" You chirped.

"Okay, wait here, and I'll bring you something, okay?" you scrunched your nose up cutely, and he swears it was the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

"Okay," he kissed your cheek, neither of you thinking about how you ended up like this, just deciding to enjoy the moment while it lasted and go with the flow of things.

He leafed through his drawers, finding the smallest shirt he owned, and luckily, he had a pair of unused boxers that you could wear. He brought everything to you and slipped it through the crack of the door opening. "I'll wait outsid-" You grabbed his wrist instead of the clothes, practically dragging him back into the bathroom with you. You appreciate him wanting to give you your privacy, but you didn't mind having him there with you.

You both laughed out loud, you laughing at his shocked face and him laughing at your boldness. "Let me help you," he said, helping you slip your arms through the holes. He grabbed the front of his white button-up shirt, fastening it up for you and kissing you one button at a time. "Knew you'd look so cute in this," he compliments.

"Thank you," you blushed, and he kneeled down, helping you step into his boxers, pulling them all the way up for you, and kissing your hip bone. He finished dressing you, and at this point, you're not even sure how you were coherent cause he literally got on his knees to help you get dressed. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say you had fallen in love with him at some point tonight.

"All done," he stood up like he didn't just make your heart beat one thousand times faster. “Come on,”

He took your hand in his, stroking it with his thumb, leading you out of the bathroom as he turned off the lights in the bathroom before he went to his drawer, mindlessly dropping his towel at his feet while you sat on the bed he picked out his clothes, and you covered your blushing face it's not like you hadn't seen him naked nearly a hundred times but tonight felt different somehow.

He looked over, and he laughed softly, seeing you going all shy from his nudity.

He got a text on his phone alerting him that the food had arrived, and he mentally gave himself a pat on the back for getting everything right so far. "Wait here." he left and came back into his room a few minutes later with the food, getting comfortable on the bed as he let you take your choice of the first slice.

He grabbed the TV remote, turning on your favorite movie that was already set up on the TV before you even arrived.

"How did you know?" You ask him in surprise cause how the heck did he know your favorite food and movie?

"I don't know." he shrugged and grabbed a slice of pizza, trying to play off the fact that he was blushing.

He cut his eyes at you, and you were clearly still waiting for an answer. "Your first day at school, you mentioned it," he mumbled, getting all shy.

"You remembered? That was like months ago," you asked, your eyes twinkling with excitement.

"I always remember the things that I care about." he looked you straight in the eyes, and you immediately looked away, his gaze far too intense for your poor heart to handle.

He cleared his throat and turned to the movie playing on the screen while you both ate in silence.

Half an hour later, you both finished eating, and he set the empty box on his nightstand along with the cola that he let you have most of. How could he not when you asked him for more so nicely?

He pretended to stretch out and sneakily put his arm around your shoulder, laying back against the bed frame, bringing your body as close to his as humanly possible. His heart melts when you snuggle up to his chest, inhaling his scent, and he thinks now's the perfect time. Everything else went perfect, and there's no way this couldn't go perfect as well.

It just had to.

He stretched his free arm over to the drawer, pulling out the contract that you ripped, which was now taped and pieced all back together. “Y/n?” He calls out to you softly and you look up at him humming in acknowledgment.

He hands you the paper, and you look at the ripped contract. "Why do you still have the-" you stop mid-sentence, eyes going wide when you look at the bottom where there was a new addition.

"I really am not sure what to say, but I'll just say what I feel and hope it makes sense. I know things started out rough, but I've liked you since day one, and I couldn't help but at least try with you, so y/n, even though we said some mean things to each other and did some things with each other that enemies don't do, will you restart with me? I swear it can be like this all the time, and you were right. I was doing all that stuff to get your attention the only way I knew how, and I know it was silly, and I acted like a grade-schooler with a crush, but I'm sorry for spilling all those drinks on you," he pouted, and you couldn't help but laugh softly remembering those times. "And I'm sorry for everything else, too. I was just confused and jealous that I wasn't getting your attention. I just did whatever it took to at least get you to notice me, even if it was negative, and I don't know. I just think you're really special and just a great person overall. I want you in my life. And please tell me if this is too soon, but I've been thinking about it for a long time now, and I'd just like to ask if you'd give me the honor of being your boyfriend?" He holds the pen out for you, his hand shaking with nerves as he looks at you with his soft brown eyes.

This was not what you were expecting when he texted you tonight, but you were not disappointed by any means when you came over, and technically, it wasn't so soon. You'd known him for more than three months, and you saw what kind of guy he was when he was around his friends, not to mention you were literally wearing his clothes in his bed after eating the food he bought for you, and he treated you to an evening full of everything you could ever wish for you'd never forget the fun you had with him tonight and there wasn't any reason you could see to say no to him and on top of everything else yeji had the best friends ever and you trusted her judgment as much as you trusted Heeseung's intentions with you.

"YES!" you snatched the pen from his hand excitedly, enthusiastically circling the check box that said yes.

You put the paper down, hugging him so tight he could barely breathe, but he didn't care cause you just made him the happiest man on the planet. "Thank you for giving me a chance." he hugs you back, running his hand along your back.

"I should be the one thanking you. I'm sorry for everything, too; I never meant any of it." You booped the point of his nose. "You're not a pig, and you're not ugly in the mornings, and I don't hate you."

"Aww, It's okay, baby. I forgive you. You forgive me?" he laughs softly.

"Of course." You both smiled as he went in for a quick peck.

“You smell so good.” he buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you giggle shyly.

“Thank you, baby” you reply sheepishly.

"So, by the way, where do you want the wedding to be?" he says out of nowhere, shocking you.

"What?" You pulled away from his hug, confusion written all over your face. "What wedding?"

"Make sure you always read the fine print, baby. Now you're stuck with me." You both broke out into a fit of laughter, nothing but happiness reflecting in each other's eyes.

After your laughter died down a bit, you pouted, remembering what started this whole mess between you two in the first place.

"But wait, I thought you hated me."

"I never said that. You said you hated me!"

-

The next day at school, you and Heeseung arrived early, going to hang out with the rest of the group outside on the park bench where you all first met. You sat side by side, and heeseung rested his head on your shoulder. He was literally clinging to you all morning long. He didn't let you do anything without some part of him touching you, and you didn't mind cause you thought it was the cutest thing ever how he went from ignoring you to not being able to separate himself from you.

Your friend's jaws were dropped to the ground when they saw the two of you being so close to each other.

"Okay, what the fuck? I think we missed a few episodes here," Sunghoon says.

Jay laughs, nodding his head in agreement. "I think we missed the whole damn series."

Heeseung smiled softly at your guy's friends and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist as you ran your fingers through his shiny black hair, causing all your friends to fake gag at the blatant show of affection.

"Not a series, just 90 days." You smiled and rested your head on top of Heeseung's.

"I was there for the sneak peek preview!" Jake stood up and shouted, his fist held up in the air triumphantly. He had a feeling about the two of you practically from the start, but he couldn't give himself too much credit. You guys were a little obvious from the start, especially heeseung. Sunghoon quickly yanked him back down by his wrist so he'd stop shouting in the early morning.

You laughed at the two, shaking your head softly as heeseung tightened his hold around you. And who knew that a contract could change your life? This was the best summer ever and going to be the best fall with your boyfriend by your side, and though you both started on the wrong side, everything worked out in the end, all thanks to Heeseung and his contract….

90 days of pleasure.

FIN.

90 days of pleasure taglist🔖 @capri-cuntz @heeseungshim @haelahoops @kimochiloveshee @heesoo11 @hoonxclsvly @yjwluvs @rizzhee @hanjisunginc @enpynhee @zerasari @parksunghoonsgf @ionlyreadforfanfics @heesquared @rayofsunshineeee @heeoao @iamliacamila @moktahiya @nycapartmentsworld @enwrites @adeoluhh @meiskra @jungwoning8 @fakeuwus @littlelilies @wooziswife @jongsaengjay @heehoonsnemo @eneiyri @chubbypeach2111 @kaykay11sworld @eskopiganja @live-your-wild-life @chasing-acid @jakehooni @haesgurl6 @hello-stranger24 @en-happiness @alienqbrain @jvjsssnaa @amortapes @parkchimmylove @ethelia @seochannnn @httpsneptvnn @httpsrinrin @nellwoo @pasteltheghost16 @swimmingmoonmentality @mwahvvis @browniestraykidshiteu @rikisly @perfectnighttt @euphoric-tama @enha-enhypen @mimimovv @wannieepisod @nctislifue

Permanent taglist🔖 @moon7jay @heesitation @hee-pster @furious-eagle @hoyeonheeseung

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

[thetriumphantpanda]

mine, all mine | joel miller

Summary | You & Joel have been skirting around whatever this is for years, until he finally breaks and calls it what it is, in the only way he knows how.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.2K

Warnings | Post-Outbreak, Jackson!Joel, possessive!Joel, rough sex, spit play, unprotected PiV sex, cumshot, cumplay, dirty talk, emotionally unavailable Joel, it's basically just 1.2k of filth tbh, no use of y/n

Authors Note | This one goes out to @undercoverpena who gave me the means to rewatch TLOU. This was the outcome. Enjoy the filth.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s got your wrists caught together in one of his big hands, pressed down into the mattress to keep you still. Your thighs splayed wide, pressed down almost uncomfortably by the width of his hips. His cock is splitting you open and you’re so impossibly wet that you can hear it whenever he pushes himself back into you. He likes it, wild grin on his face whenever that lewd squelch makes itself known, he likes that only he can do this to you, only he can make you this wet, only he can get you to submit so completely like this.

It’s been two years of this. Two years of being pressed into his bed in the dead of night. Two years of dancing around what this is, but enjoying it all the same. You don’t think you need to label it, complicate it, not when it feels this good. You’d happily go the rest of your days not knowing what you and Joel Miller are if it means he’s going to stay like this. It started as stress relief, a lot like how it had been with the other people here in Jackson that had fallen into your bed - him, frustrated from patrol or whatever it was going on with Ellie, you, frustrated with… well, mostly everything these days. When he’s inside you, there are no frustrations, only the low thrum of pleasure across your skin.

Things have changed though, maybe in the past six months. He stands closer to you when you’re at the bar, sometimes puts a hand on the small of your back when someone else tries to talk to you. Subtle messages that say back the fuck off or she’s mine without needing to put real words to it. He doesn’t say it, even here, when he’s deep inside you, doesn’t beg you to tell him who you belong to, but then you suppose he doesn’t have to - you’ve not fucked anyone else since this started, no-one would hold a candle to him, and you know he doesn’t fuck anyone else either.

“You hear that?” His gruff voice asks, pulling you back to the present as his cock drags from your cunt, pushing back in slowly, and you do, that squelch of him pushing back inside you as deep as he can fit, you throw your head back, moan his name, “Yeah you do,” His face buries into your neck, teeth dragging across delicate skin, “Hear how wet I gotcha?”

You let your eyes open, fluttering slowly to reveal how close he is to your face. He’s so fucking beautiful like this - skin covered in sweat, brows pinched together in pleasure, his scars and his wrinkles visible so closely, the grey in his beard and the smattering of hair on his chest pressed against yours, you won’t ever grow tired of this.

“S-so fucking g-good, Joel.” You choke out on another drag of his cock, tip pressed right against the depths of you, dragging deliciously against that spot inside you.

“I know, baby, I know,” He coos, nudging the side of your face with his nose, hot breath so close to your ear as he continues the languid strokes of himself in and out of your spent cunt, “Bein’ so good f’me.”

His praise never fails to make you preen, face rolling to the side, exposing the side of your neck to him that he hasn’t already marked. You feel the tight grip around your wrists loosen, his hand taking hold of your chin instead, pulling you back to look at him, brown eyes glazed almost black with lust as he looks down at you. There’s something different there this time, sure he’s always been intense, but he’s looking at you this time like he wants to devour you whole - to cut you open and eat you from the inside.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” He whispers, hand around your face moving to shake you so your focus is on him and not on the way his thrusts have started getting harder, “Say it.”

“M’yours,” You manage to get out, but he shakes your head again, “Yours, m’yours Joel.”

“That’s right,” He bends, hand still gripping your chin, and licks into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth nipping gently, “My girl.”

You almost can’t believe it, like this is some kind of dream, your wildest fantasy come true that he does want you, that it’s not just your pussy he covets but everything else you bring.

“Y-you mean it?” You speak, breathless, “I’m yours?”

You bring a hand up to his face now, cradling a cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip, but he’s shaking your hand away, his own still tight against your face, “Open your mouth,” but you’re confused about why, so it takes you a while for your brain to catch up, “Open your damn mouth baby.”

This time you do, lips parted, tongue out, Joel’s fingers sitting in the hinges of your jaw, dragging your head forward a little, then, he purses his lips, opens his mouth and lets his saliva drip from his own mouth into your, caught on the flat of your tongue. It’s hot, probably the hottest thing he’s even done. You curl your tongue over it, dragging your mouth closed to swallow it down, then, you open your mouth, stick your tongue back out and look him straight in the eye to ask for more.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” He mutters, but there’s a grin on his face, his cock still pounding into you, the feeling of your slick, made more by what he’d just down, gathering at the base of his cock, dripping down onto the sheets below, “Y’like that, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Is the only thing you can get out before he’s doing it again, letting his own spit drip from his mouth into yours.

This time though, he doesn’t give you the option to swallow it. He lets go of your face, his tongue melding with yours at the precise spot that his spit had just landed on. It’s a filthy, wet, open-mouthed kiss, saliva gathering in your corners of your mouth as you moan into his when he shifts his hips just a little, tip of his cock now bruising into your cervix on every punch forward.

It happens all at once, his lips dragging from yours, his cock dragging out of your pussy as he pushes backwards, cock in his fist for barely a second before the first rope of his spend is spurting across your soaked and aching folds. Joel lets out a growl as the next lands across the soft skin of your tummy, the next between the valley of your tits. He’s dragging a tight fist up and down the length of his cock, squeezing lightly at his tip to empty himself of every drop of cum, painting your skin with it until he’s softening in his fist and you’re trying to catch your breath.

Joel lets his hands grip your hips, dragging his thumbs through the pools of cum across your lower body, rubbing gently through it to spread it as far as he can, “Look nice like this,” He muses, looking down at the mess he’s made of you, from the aching red hue of your spent cunt, to the milky white splashed across your body, “Mine.” He says, with a tone of finality.

“Yours.”

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch.  He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it. 

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them. 

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations. 

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you. 

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls. 

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona. 

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy. 

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers. 

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it. 

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt. 

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him. 

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly,  "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight. 

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them. 

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience. 

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck. 

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain. 

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness. 

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand,  "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings. 

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section. 

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat. 

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?” 

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. 

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.  

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you. 

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured. 

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more. 

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit,  you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips. 

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you. 

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

[taasgirl]

espresso - lando norris

summary: y/n is a famous singer who also happens to be a massive f1 fan. when she mentions a liking for a certain driver, it's only fate that he tries everything in his power to get her attention.

a/n: no face claim! the outcomes/order of races are altered to fit the story, it's just a fun time!!

liked by oliviarodrigo, oneruel, pedri, and 1, 376, 227 others ynusername my new interview with wired is out now!

user64973 Stop you're gorgeous

user89322 do i wanna be her or be with her??

user09384 so who r u crushing on huh

ynusername it's a seeeecret 🤫

user44172 This entire vid is so chaotic omfg

user03638 Please let y/n enter her wag era

liked by user55736, user89842, user73903, and 10, 652 others user33973 HELLO???? LANDO LITERALLY LIKED THIS TWEET I'M CRYING

user98301 brother personally knows who y/n's next bf should be

user40440 HAHA NO LITERALLY

user34593 God please let this be lando shooting his shot after watching y/n's recent interview

user43982 NO WAIT UR SO FR BECAUSE SHE LITERALLY MENTIONED LIKING AN F1 DRIVER WHAT IF IT'S HIM??

user12871 lando and y/n 🙏🙏

view ynusername's story...

liked by oscarpiastri, lorde, gavi, and 782, 774 others ynusername what a race! lovely to see you again @ oscarpiastri, maybe aim for a podium next time though?

oscarpiastri I'd like to see you try in a f1 car

user49949 Wait is oscar the guy y/n was talking abt in that vid? user53004 i hope not, i love him and lily

user20833 Okay so did y/n and lando interract or not? 😭

user61221 hot girls support mclaren (confirmed!) liked by ynusername

user89483 y/n slowly integrating herself in the f1 scene, we see u girl

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, ynusername, and 2, 459, 383 others landonorris A lot to learn from this weekend, but we keep pushing. Also great to meet a lot of new faces and the incredible fans🧡

user58273 SORRY WHAT THAT SECOND PHOTO...

user89894 is the new face y/n perhaps??

mclaren Great weekend Lando! liked by landonorris

user92702 I genuinely tweak whenever u post bc u look so fine

user53982 not y/n liking this post 😭

user66359 AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN FOLLOW HIM user98123 miss girl is stalking her crush i bet

user17263 please let this year be your year

user52209 Did anyone see his response to that post race interview?

user28732 YES AND HOW HE HAS HIS EYE ON SUM1

user87229 oh he trynna thirst trap (y/n) liked by landonorris

liked by lilyzneimer, oliviarodrigo, pedri, and 334, 938 others ynusername remember that one bitch ass ex I had? yeah well I wrote another song about him! 'feather' is yours now, but best enjoyed when you have an ugly, cheating, lying dick of an ex to think about. have fun with this one!! 😘

lilyzneimer STOP I'M ACTUALLY DYING I WAS NOT EXPECTING OSCAR OMG I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING liked by ynusername

user82983 i was like wow normal post! and then boom. oscar.

oscarpiastri Okay that seems a little mean

lilyzneimer already on repeat

oscarpiastri Um excuse me???? Did you read the caption...

user68297 NEW Y/N MUSIC YESYESYES

user26321 omfg i've been waiting for an angry y/n song

user72639 this sounds really familiar?? song of the summer maybe?

ynusername ahhhh thank you bb

view landonorris's story...

liked by user58273, user98004, user63874, and 10, 376 others user44938 Y/N papped in Monte Carlo today! Rumours are circulating that she was visiting F1's starboy Lando Norris, however there is no official confirmation.

user99812 ohhh y/n we see you

user89283 Okay everyone shut up abt lando, let's take a moment to appreciate y/n's beauty omf she's gorg

user23294 I SECOND THIS !!

user12834 hmm i wonder why she's in monaco...

user48463 Y/N u ain't slick 😭

user35273 she saw lando's story and ran straight to him

user16282 "how far u go for a sneaky link? I'd fly"

user52883 I know damn well she ain't in monaco for a holiday

liked by landonorris, gracieabrams, laufey, and 483, 995 others ynusername it's exactly like selena gomez's 2011 film

user73948 I KNOW LANDO'S HOODIE WHEN I SEE IT

user63762 ur the genuine it girl

lilyzneimer Monte Carlo reference, I love it liked by ynusername

user11928 landoooo

landonorris oooooo

user40948 oh hey lando user29830 Fancy seeing you here user73984 He wants her so bad

oscarpiastri I think I've seen that hoodie before

ynusername hmm i wonder where 🤷‍♀️

user49283 girl saw his story and flew out IMMEDIATELY

user53984 y/n l/n wag era loading 😏😏

user92874 So pretty

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, mclaren, and 3, 469, 848 others landonorris Calm before the storm #raceweek

charlesleclerc Good to see you with some company

user76483 CHARLES HASFGUEH

ynusername omg invite me next time

user42761 Girl bfr we know where u were at

user52739 THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE

user19820 y/n and lando are a match made in heaven

user82637 I wonder who you were hanging out with 🤔

oscarpiastri Wow I feel like I've seen that girl before

ynusername me too

user61542 not lando soft launching y/n as if we don't know it's her

user82736 I mean technically we don't

user19823 @ user82736 No I think it is confirmed, she was heard on his twitch stream the other day

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, danielricciardo, and 1, 254, 982 others mclaren Our drivers and their partners after qualifying! Lando and Oscar will begin P4 and P5 respectively in Monte Carlo 🧡🤍

user82638 AND THEIR PARTNERS??? Y/N AND LANDO?

user52761 admin really said if they won't confirm it, I will liked by mclaren

user52839 Please lando and y/n are adorable

user82636 lily & oscar >>>

user48273 Sooooo they official...?

user27163 guys stop with this y/n x lando madness, i need a double mclaren podium

user82638 y/n really manifested her wag era huh

liked by ynusername, logansargeant, lilymunhe, and 3, 716, 372 others landonorris Monaco '24. Thank you to everyone who came out, and showed me support this weekend. I promise to be better next race. tagged: oscarpiastri & ynusername

ynusername my racer 🧡🏎️

user62538 HELLO? user82776 i'm gonna be sick

mclaren Papaya boys! liked by landonorris

user72538 Y/N is so beautiful I can't even

user16529 HIS EYES

user52863 him hard launching y/n >>>>

user98276 This is MY victoria and david

ynusername omg we're definitely not as cool as them

user41752 i won't get over this ever

liked by landonorris, phoebebridgers, mclaren, and 967, 837 others ynusername i think i need to buy more orange clothes

landonorris I've already offered up half my closet to her...

landonorris nice shirt though 😏

user62538 oh i'm living for their hard launch

lilyzneimer Welcome to the team!!

user22817 STOP THIS IS ADORABLE PLS WE NEED Y/N AND LILY CONTENT IMMEDIATELY

mclaren Our favourite pop star liked by ynusername 🌟

user52763 Y/N THE WAG YESSSSSS

oscarpiastri It's actually papaya

ynusername okay sassy man apocalypse lilyzneimer @ ynusername feed him to the zombies

liked by oliviarodrigo, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 583, 872 others ynusername oh and btw, my new song espresso is out and it's a @ landonorris certified 'banger'. his words not mine. listen on all platforms now!!

landonorris She's working late cause she's a singerrr

ynusername haiii

user72637 y/n really walked in and said that she's the best lando ever had and ever will have

landonorris I mean it's true sooo

user62537 Okay lando I didn't know u had game like dat

lilyzneimer oh I love you

ynusername LILYYYYYYY i love u so much oscarpiastri I think our gfs are gfs... @ landonorris

view landonorris's story...

please let me know if you guys liked this! i love doing lando fics so much. as always, my reqs are open so feel free to drop suggestions!!

here’s a cute oscar smau i just wrote

[queenpiranhadon]

what are your thoughts on katsuki's reaction when he finds out his partner has the same spice tolerance as him...

A/N: Oh, anon don't worry I have MORE than just thoughts... I actually love this prompt so I'm gonna write it a little differently than usual :) Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader likes spicy food, second or third year-ish, fluff, pre-established relationship, standard partner nicknames are used - dummy, babe, baby, etc, reader is gn but is written with f!reader in mind, double dates but it's just silly goofy

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Mina Ashido x Ejiro Kirishima

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴡᴀꜱᴀʙɪ ─────•°•☁︎•°•────•

So from your wording, Bakugou finds out about your spice preferences at some point during your relationship, instead of before, which I don't think is as plausible because of his insane perception skills (he probably knows more about you than even you do before you guys even start dating- my man is a closeted nerd and you can't convince me otherwise). But if he did find out while you two were dating, the outcome would be hilarious.

Let's say you're in the UA dorms, whether you're in the hero course on not, you're just chilling in the kitchen waiting for your boyfriend to meet you downstairs. Class 1-A loves you a ton, and even though they tease you and Bakugou a lot, you both end up having a lot of Netflix and chill dates in the common room since the TV there has a shit ton of streaming services.

You put down your phone, sighing, and decide to be a little more productive instead- making your way to the common room to pick out a movie. It was tradition, between you, Katsuki, Kirishima and Mina to watch movies together every now and then as a double date- something Katsuki was adverse to but you knew he secretly enjoyed the chaos that ensued whenever the four of you were together- also realizing that if they weren't in his line of sight, they'd probably end up blowing up the dorms by accident anyways. He'd only said this once though, face turning bright red as you teasingly called him a mother hen.

Mina and Kirishima had started dating a few months ago (you and Katsuki had celebrated your 1 year anniversary two weeks prior to it ) and being the friend group you were, who could pass up an opportunity?. Kirishima and Katsuki very best friends, as were you and Mina, so it was a no-brainer that the four of you would have regular get togethers like this in the first place. You thought it was nice, seeing Katsuki interact with his friends as he relaxed, even if only a little, around his close friends.

You settle yourself down in the plush couch across from the TV screen, and feel the cushions dip as a new weight is added, seeing Mina Ashido plopping down next to you.

"Movie night!" she cheers, and she nudges you with her shoulder. "Some day we gotta ditch the boys and get through a movie marathon together- I swear Eji has the worst taste in movies, if I have to watch another Star Wa-"

"Hey! My taste isn't that bad!" Kirishima whines, coming up behind the both of you with Katsuki in tow. "Plus you keep asking to watch those K-dramas that get your mascara running."

Mina raises an eyebrow. "Eji, you cry more than I do during those."

Katsuki sighs and raises his hand in an attempt for peace. "Oi, shut yer mouths and go grab the pillows and blankets. Y/N and I will order food and pick out the movie."

Mina groans but relents, looking at you pleadingly. "Please chose a good movie - no ‘to be continued’s PLEASE"."

You snort, remembering how one time Kirishima had chosen Captain America: The Winter Soldier, which prompted the four of you to binge the entire MCU on a day without classes.

Scrolling through movies, you decide to choose a classic- the Matrix, something action packed enough to keep Kirishima (and Katsuki's) attention, and something with enough romance to keep Mina hooked.

As you navigate through the countless streaming services, Katsuki's voice pops up behind you.

"Oi, babe what do ya want to eat? Got some rolls dipped in wasabi for myself...I already know Shitty Hair's gonna ask for some chicken wings- an I got some tacos for Pinky cause I know she was whinin about cravin Mexican food earlier..."" He trails off, embarrassed when you grin knowingly in his direction.

You decide to be merciful though, shrugging and returning back to the TV. "I know very well that you're going to order from three different places just so all of us get what we want so I'll just share with you." you smile, and Bakugou's heart thumps softly from your thoughtfulness.

"Tch- whatever dummy. What do ya want in them- I know my rolls are pretty fuckin spicy - avocado, shrimp, cr-" He asks, but you cut his off with a bewildered look.

"What? Why wouldn't I get it with wasabi??" You ask dumbfounded. "That's like 85% of the flavor - plus it's kinda boring without it." you say, and your boyfriend's jaw drops open- as if you'd told him you were pregnant of something.

"Marry me."

You want to burst out in giggles, but stop when you see the deadass look on his face.

"Kats-"

"Jesus Christ baby, of all the shit ya hide from me, ya hide the most important one?!" He asks incredulously and that's when you start laughing.

"If ya told me this shit sooner I would've asked yer ass out the moment I met ya."

[reiderwriter]

She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you. 

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't. 

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last. 

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison. 

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty. 

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave. 

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there. 

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him  and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it. 

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you? 

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then. 

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit. 

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left. 

And now you had. And it was his fault. 

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week. 

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you. 

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable. 

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last. 

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent. 

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew. 

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get. 

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support. 

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear. 

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again. 

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch. 

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could. 

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home. 

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore. 

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them. 

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood. 

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry. 

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention. 

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom. 

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying. 

You made 22. 

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things. 

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure. 

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears. 

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely. 

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him. 

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days. 

You hadn't counted. 

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be. 

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down. 

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that. 

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life. 

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up. 

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life. 

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again. 

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not. 

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories. 

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking. 

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door. 

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key. 

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment. 

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him. 

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him. 

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him. 

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.” 

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.” 

“It's been two months.” 

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.” 

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded. 

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.” 

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico. 

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding. 

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day. 

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew. 

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning. 

“Please don't say that.” 

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.” 

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along. 

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down. 

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes. 

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through. 

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer. 

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby. 

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her. 

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle. 

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil  and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent. 

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear. 

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her. 

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days. 

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.” 

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you. 

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself  though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down. 

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion. 

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things. 

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days. 

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it. 

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump. 

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands. 

He had a lead. He had you now. 

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open. 

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world. 

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left. 

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew. 

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life. 

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion. 

[ironunderstands]

All of Aventio’s implications that I can remember because someone has to compile them 

Massive disclaimer: the purpose of this slideshow is not to prove that Aventio is canon (even if I personally think it is), but rather to demonstrate the relationship these two have in canon, as well as disprove the misconception that they hate one another, because no, they absolutely do not. This list is also in no particular order so expect a lot of jumping around in the story. I hope you enjoy reading! 

Dr. Ratio added gambling to his update for the Simulated universe, and said a certain gambler would enjoy it, despite Ratio’s known dislike of gambling. 

He put his all into carrying out Aventurine’s betrayal plan, and Aventurine trusted him to execute it correctly, despite the plan/going to Penacony having no obvious gain on Ratio’s end.

Dr. Ratio gave Aventurine this note urging him to keep on living despite the pains of his past and the agony of the present, wishing a man who is already known for his luck the best of it, something which helps Aventurine survive the manifestation of IX. I am insane about this note and could yap on and on about it, but I will spare you the delusions for now haha. 

Dr. Ratio wears his headpiece around those he finds to be unintelligent and not worth his time, but he has never once on screen worn it around Aventurine, signaling that he finds the man to be both intelligent and worthy of his attention. 

Aventurine doubts his own intelligence and worth in his voiceline about Dr. Ratio, believing that the scholar doesn’t care for him. However, in Ratio’s voiceline about Aventurine, he commends Aventurine for his competence and skill, pointing out that his success is not in-fact just due to his luck, and if he keeps doubting himself he will meet the fate of those praying on his downfall.

Aventurine is also the only person to actually have voicelines about Dr. Ratio so far, despite Ratio having interacted with many others, meaning he’s the closest in canon to Aventurine, seeing that he’s the only one who talks about him. (Hopefully Screwllum has a line on Ratio when he comes out bc I am starving for Ratio content lmao). 

Aventurine’s first eidolon name is Prisoner’s Dilemma, which refers to a game theory in which two people can only achieve the best outcome of their situation if they put their faith one another while being unable to communicate/physically separated, and it mirrors the dynamic Ratio and Aventurine had on Penacony while acting out the betrayal plan. Which could mean nothing. 

His 6th eidolon name is Stag Hunt Game, which refers to another game theory based on trust, and is again, reminiscent of Ratio and Aventurine’s plan. Basically, they trust each other a hell of a lot, to the point where his eidolons are named after similar games of trust, which is no accident, as well, there’s countless game theories, and hoyo went with the ones specifically centered around trust between two people. For example his E4 is another one of those theories, but has nothing to do with trust, so they specifically selected his first and last eidolon to be about it, interesting.

The name of the 2.1 quest that just involves Ratio and Aventurine is Double Indemnity, which not only refers to the legal matter but also a famous romance and thriller movie in the 1950s by the same name. Notably, it shares a lot of plot points with that of the 2.1 quest as a whole, and the fmc is always portrayed as blond, just like Aventurine. 

There is also a scene within Double Indemnity that shares a lot of parallels between itself and the Final Victor lightcone. However in the movie scene she is holding the gun, whereas in the lightcone Ratio is, even if Aventurine is holding it to his chest.

Also if you want a more in depth analysis on how this movie relates to them, this person made a great one on tumblr :@anominous-user. (without the period, also it’s long as hell though be warned). 

You receive the track “Spellbound” after completing the Double Indemnity mission.

It is also the name of a 1945 film by Alfred Hitchcock, which is a Thriller, Noir and you guessed it, features romance as a major part of the plot. Its story also seems to have parallels to Aventio’s, but I’m not gonna get into that for now.

Notably, spellbound also means to hold the complete attention of someone, which is more often than not romantic, as only people you love/admire can captivate you like that. 

The bathtub couch Aventurine gets Ratio during his demo (and is the only time the seating ever changes in demos) is reminiscent of the bathtub couch from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and you guessed it, its another romance.

He constantly flirts with Ratio in the pinball section of the Double Indemnity trailer, even going so far as to a) have the “Doctor you’re huge” line become a massive meme in the community b) he literally says the view is breathtaking when the only view is the giant Ratio he’s staring at. Honestly this entire section is so chock full of romance tropes (seriously what writer let their size difference kink into the story) that I have no idea how it passed censorship.

Aventurine also flirts with Ratio in the 2.0 scene by asking where his alabaster head is, which means he’s seen him wear it before. However, even when Dr. Ratio is acting, supposedly yelling at Aventurine for being a useless fool, he doesn’t wear the mask meaning he doesn’t truly feel that way.

They also have designated nicknames for one another, that are exclusive to them only. Dr. Ratio only ever calls Aventurine “gambler” while in his presence, and although Aventurine calls him Ratio sometimes, he often refers to Ratio as Doc/Doctor (Professor too in the CN) when talking to him. What’s interesting is that nobody else seems to refer to either of them with these names, meaning they made them for one another.

Despite the fact that throughout Penacony, Dr. Ratio’s job is to sell the betrayal plan, he still apologizes to Aventurine in the 2.0 argument scene, and looks away during Aventurine’s sentencing presumably out of guilt/to not break his poker face when the other looks at him. He also not so kindly tells Sunday to visit a shrink (therapist), which should tell you how much his actions concern and upset Ratio.

He also breaks his act again to check in on Aventurine. Hmm. 

Anyways time for the Aventurine keeping up with starrail speedrun because OH LORD, I’m gonna number these by image so I don’t exceed the count LMAOO. The first few are numbered by image, and the next are numbered by the columns of images, and I can clarify in the comments if you’re confused!

1) Owlbert calling them good friends (which Mr. Tsundere denies, although he says Aven isn’t awful to work with) 

2) PRAISE OWLBERT

3) This line is very significant because only 3% of Dr. Ratio’s students ever pass his classes, in which they become experts in their fields. So, if Aventurine earns a passing grade in Dr. Ratio’s book, that means he’s exceptional to him as almost nobody does. 

1) Ratio says his flashy outfits just make his job harder which ??? What do you mean by that sir do you not like seeing other people lay eyes on Aventurine serving cvnt? Why are you so worried about how his jobs go? Hmmm? Throughout the whole video he also keeps saying Aventurine shouldn’t take up fights in the first place, and the more logical thing to do would be to run away. Worried about our dear gambler Ratio?

2) How well do you know this man that you know his personal motto 😭 look genuinely idc if you leave this shipping them or not, how the hell are you gonna deny their friendship after this at the very least. 

Ok homoverse/j Anyways basically what’s going on here is that the little showcase of Aventurine’s kit ended and Ratio gave him a compliment. Owlbert says it seems like there is some mutual respect between them. Interesting, instead of denying it, Ratio asks, “What did he say about me?” implying that Ratio respects Aventurine, but he did not realize the other respected him back. 

1) Which causes Owlbert to spill this, which speaks for itself, Aventurine believes Ratio is the person who knows him best, so he invited him to be on the show. 

2) Which results in perhaps the greatest display of Ratio’s tsundereness to this day, also Owlberts face I can’t 

1) It seems Ratio didn’t think Aventurine knew him so well, but oh boy it gets better (worse for Ratio though LMAOO)

2) Caught your ass in 4k, also please just go and listen to this demo again I don’t think Ratio could sound more flustered if he tried. 

Apologies for the fuckass title card getting in the way no I don’t know how to remove it, but if you look closely in the first one, you can see a little sweat drop by Ratio’s face, which is again, another common trope with Tsundere’s when they get called out on their bs. “I really can’t tell what the deal is between you two,” me too Owlbert, me too.

Aventurine knows Ratio is in the council of Mundanites, information that is only a rumor to the rest of the galaxy, and Ratio trusts him with this information.

Acheron calls them friends, thank you Queen louder for the dumbasses in the back! Apparently there’s also a note somewhere in Penacony that talks about her, Argenti and of course Ratio being the ones to save Aventurine, so if I can find it, I’ll include it in the next part. 

Oh and don’t you think I’m done w this ridiculous lightcone for one second. I’m  well aware it’s a display of Aventurine’s su1c1dal tendencies, hell I was and still am the biggest supporter of that, however I also have eyes and yeah this fucking thing is really h0rny oh my god. “He provocatively looks at the man before him,” ok, could have picked any other wording but you picked that one 😭.

Also, a key detail of this lightcone that people miss is that it’s, well, a lightcone. A lightcone we get in 2.0 as soon as it drops, and since lightcones are canonically condensed memories, this happened way before the events of 2.0, and is likely how Aventurine convinced Ratio to join him jn the betrayal plan. 

Moreover, Aventurine says “remain amicable,” meaning this isn’t their first meeting, and him and Ratio had at least been talking to one another for some time before this, which could mean their friendship/partnership/whatever the hell this is has dated back to perhaps even prior to 1.6 when we meet Ratio for the first time, but ultimately that’s just speculation. 

Lastly, for this mini lightcone rant: the animated version of it. Oh lord. 1) Camden and Jordan put their all into it istg 😭 2) Ratio pulls the gun back but Aventurine stops him, meaning that a) Ratio didn’t want him to get hurt, but he b) accepted Aventurine’s provocation, 3) Aventurine LEANS CLOSER to him while teasing him with his whole “why not doctor~,” sh1t and 4) if you look closely at both the animated and still versions of it, there’s a tiny spark of light in Aventurine’s normally dead eyes, which is just, yeah. 

Ratios party voiceline for Aventurine. This is a complicated one because it is meant to be b1tchy in both languages (this is a tumblr post on it by @devxoid which goes over the nuance surrounding it. The TLDR is: directly translated, it means “take care of yourself, gambler, I need not your worry/concern,” but its actual meaning is far closer to the “fuck off” vibes in the CN. However, two this complicate this, 1) he sounds far calmer/neutral in the CN and 2) Ratio is the biggest goddamn tsundere on this planet, so even if he sounds mean, he does genuinely want Aventurine to take care of himself, as Ratio’s tried and true method of getting people to better themselves is by being rude to them, so it’s actually fairly in character, it’s just I think the way the line was directed in EN was a bit too harsh and threw some people off 

Finally, here’s some more silly ones that don’t really mean anything on their own until you put them into the context of everything else:

Their status as package deal do not seperate in both the data bank and the profile pictures is extremely funny because they have no reason to be next to each other like that, they just are.

Their kits are also designed to synergize perfectly with one another, and in the livestream Ratio was put in the team to demonstrate Aventurine’s kit because well, they are made to work together. Aventurine is by far Dr. Ratio’s best sustain unit due to the debuffs he provides (alongside everything else) which only gets better with eidolons + his signature lightcone, and if you have ever played Ratio you know how much he likes debuffs. As for Aventurine, his arguably  best team is the FUA one with Robin, Topaz and well, Ratio, who is the main dps of the team. Honestly besides trying to zero cycle MOC there is no reason as to why you would run Ratio with any other support unit if you have Aventurine. 

I hope you enjoyed reading! Also, this is absolutely not everything, just all the stuff that’s easy to point out, and I’m not even getting into an actual analysis of the plot and how that demonstrates their relationship. Moreover, I don’t expect you to leave this shipping them if you don’t already like them, but I at least want to demonstrate that they are without a doubt close friends in canon, and there’s no denying it. I definitely missed some so feel free to point out more, as I might make a part two, as these are just all the ones off the top of my head. Continually, for the people who like Aventio, hopefully this serves as some sort of guidebook/reference to their implications/interactions, and if you have any moots who love this ship, I’d recommend tagging them in this bc I think they would love it! Have a good day :D

[togenabi]

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does. 

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 

But he won’t tell you that.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw. (series masterlist)

cw: 4.6k words, pining, fluff, very light angst, smut (18+ ONLY), male masturbation *cough*saltburn*cough*, sexual imagery, Sebastian in a towel 😵‍💫

a/n: this if my first HL fic :) feedback welcome and requests are open! req rules here. enjoy xx laney

“Mr. Sallow! Would you care to join the rest of the class in absorbing the information I am teaching? I suspect the grounds will still look just as they do now after the period has ended.” 

The wave of suppressed, tittering laughter fluttered around the room and died quickly as Professor Weasley turned back to the parrot on her desk. Sebastian yanked his head off his upturned palm and away from the window he’d been staring out of. Rain was pouring down in resolute sheets and turning the lush Hogwarts grounds to murky mud. Absolutely no good for a flying match against Imelda, because the witch was so talented at flying in any condition, it almost guaranteed that the outcome of their “friendly” wager would be ten less galleons in his already light pockets. 

He turned his attention, or at least tried to, back to the parrot. Weasley had been droning on for so long that he could no longer remember whether it had started as a parrot or if it had been a picnic basket first. He doubted that in his day-to-day life he would find much use for turning either into either.

“Dreamy dreamer,” murmured a voice to his left, and he swiveled his head still further to catch the eye of the witch sitting next to him. She was balancing her head on her fist and smirking to herself.

Dreamy, he was. The Transfiguration classroom was as cold as the grounds were sure to be, but when he remembered that his favorite classmate was seated mere inches from him, he suddenly found his cheeks to be unbearably hot. 

She had plummeted into his life, in the wake of a dragon attack, nearly three years ago now, and Sebastian had never been so instantly intrigued with anyone before. He was intrigued particularly because she refused to tell so little about her past, her travels, herself, that he couldn’t help but be drawn toward this talented little mystery that demanded solving. 

“So,” he had said, on only her second morning at the castle, sidling up to her as soon as he found her not flanked by Professor Fig whispering in harsh, muted tones. “Entrance, pursued by a dragon, is it?” She had whipped around to face him. Her smile was enough to make his knees crumple and he felt a little taken aback. No one had mentioned that the dragon tamer was ludicrously beautiful.

“I fared slightly better than poor old Antigonus, though, don’t you think?” His breath had stuttered in his chest for a moment. Oh, he liked her already. She introduced herself and asked for his name. 

“I’m Sebastian Sallow, but how’d you get here, after the dragon? And where from? And why do all the professors seem so concern–”

“Sebastian Sallow, I think the Sorting Hat may have missed the mark with you. Only a Ravenclaw could be so curious,” she’d deadpanned with a glint in her eyes that told him she was thoroughly enjoying the obscurity surrounding her arrival at Hogwarts. She gave his Slytherin tie a gentle brush with her forefinger and then she was gone. As she’d clipped away towards the Great Hall for breakfast, robes swishing behind her and the imprint of her finger swiping across his chest still present, his jaw had hung slack. He later inwardly punished himself for calling hoarsely after her,

“N-no, I’m a Slytherin!” Very witty, Sallow.

They became friends quickly after that. When he sat down in the first Transfiguration class of fifth year and found himself elbow to elbow with her, he prayed to every deity he could remember that he could manage not to fuck up talking to her this time. And he didn’t; their chats and whispered estimations as to how long it would take Ominis to fall asleep after lecture started and notes passed to one another were the highlight of his week–no, his year. Before his sixth and seventh years, a well-placed and distracting bottle of port had been enough for him to slip into Professor Black’s office long enough to fix the Transfiguration schedule and ensure those highlights would last.

When she’d first asked him to show her how to get in the Restricted Section of the library, however, he’d realized that this witch was not just adventurous outside of school. It had taken all his nerve and self-control not to stare at her bum as they snuck through the library doors and past Scribner’s watchful, hawkish gaze. Reaching the section unscathed and unnoticed was old hat for Sebastian at that point, but it gave his companion such a thrill that she threw her arms around his neck and squealed in delight. Sebastian remained stiff as a board while congratulating her, so as not to reveal that he was, in fact, stiff as a board.

Now, in the never-ending void that was Professor Weasley’s lectures, Sebastian tore a corner off the ancient copy of Transfiguring the Tedious in front of him and scrawled on the paper with his quill. He slid it along the table to her hand and bumped it against her pinky. The pinky surreptitiously rose to slide the scrap under her palm, her eyes never leaving the demonstration at the front of the class. It was so subtle that he would have hardly believed she’d received his note if they hadn’t practiced this fine art of espionage about ten times already that period.

She opened the note under their desk and read what he’d written. Please, if you’ve any humanity, you’ll kill me and save me from this torture. Her lips immediately pressed together hard to contain a snort. She moved the paper back to the top of the desk and jotted down a response. When the paper landed in Sebastian’s lap, he glanced down.

And leave me here to endure it all alone? I think not, birdie.

Birdie. Birdie, as in, should have been a Ravenclaw; birdie, as in, his favorite thing in the world to be called. Whenever his peppering questions regarding her whereabouts during the day or what she did over the summer break (out in the Highlands exploring and assisting and digging and Merlin knows what else!) caused her to throw down a book with a huff or break into a sweet, clear laugh, she would cry, “Enough, birdie! I swear I’ll get that dodgy old hat to put you where you belong!”

Sebastian couldn’t recall when she’d gone from being an interesting new classmate with a secret she kept under her cloak to the reason he was excited to wake up in the morning. At some point, while they grew closer and he had shared his anxieties and fears for Anne, he had realized that he did not want her to bump elbows and waggle eyebrows at that Weasley kid when she passed him in the hall. He had realized around the same time that he did not want Poppy Sweeting to be the one who took her to Hogsmeade every weekend to giggle over butterbeers. 

The pieces of this puzzle slowly continued to arrange themselves over the years, such as that time in Crossed Wands when she had knelt before his crouched body to make sure the gash on his eyebrow wasn’t too deep. She gripped his forearm to steady them both and hissed when she saw the damage to his freckled forehead. “Come here,” she had murmured, and Sebastian was sure that the stone floors were going to open up and swallow him whole as she lightly traced her wand over the cut and it healed into a dark line. “I think it suits you.” 

“I was looking a bit too soft anyway, don’t you think?” He chuckled, touching the healed scar. 

“If it still hurts tomorrow, I’ll kiss it for you.”

As he rose back to his feet, his brain wanted him to shout “Can I have that in writing?!” but instead he opted for the much more suave option: “I can kiss it myself just fine.” 

He ought to have sealed his own mouth permanently with the binding curse. 

The point was, he finally drew the conclusion that he was madly in love with this woman, for she really had blossomed from a somewhat timid new fifth-year student into a self-assured and confident (not to mention talented and brilliant) young woman. It made Sebastian’s heart glad to watch this transformation over the years. The only thing that could make his heart gladder, he was sure, would be her hand in his. 

In an act of blissful mercy, Professor Weasley ended her lesson at the appointed time she always did. “And remember!” She called shrilly over the din of twenty 18-year-olds rushing to shove books into bags and be done with thinking for the day, “Bird transfiguration will figure heavily into the N.E.W.T.s, so practice as much as you can! I have picnic baskets available for those who wish to borrow them.”

“Are you gonna take one?” Sebastian asked the witch to his left, who was sweeping her parchment and quills haphazardly into her leather satchel.

“No, I don’t think I need to practice much. I’ve already got my own little birdie.” Then she actually pinched his cheek in her fingers. Sebastian’s skin turned bright red at the contact, and his insides took flight in an awkward but not uncomfortable way at her words: My own little…

Was she trying to kill him? This had to be the flirting that Ominis insisted was always occurring between the two of them. Usually, Sebastian had no problem at all recognizing and reciprocating attention from the opposite sex, but something about this particular witch made his head go mushy as the mud they avoided as they walked across the courtyard, robes pulled up over their head to avoid the downpour as they dashed towards the Great Hall.

Her affectionate nickname did sometimes feel like a deflection on her part, an attempt to infantilize him into a permanent position of friendship. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, quite frankly. He adored hearing it so much, although only from her lips. As they splashed through the courtyard, he recalled the time Imelda, hoping to goad him during Quidditch practice, had shouted “Come ON, birdie, and FLY, dammit!” He’d sent a bludger straight at his team’s captain, causing her to careen off course with a fresh string of obscenities. 

And down, deep down, buried in the depths of the shameful part of Sebastian that held all guilt and impurities, he wanted nothing more than to hear that nickname leave her mouth in a gasp as their bodies pressed together in his empty dormitory. His shame at this well-visited fantasy was not eclipsed by his desire for her, however, and he far too frequently found himself rushing back to his bed after their shared classes and repeating her sweet words to himself as he tugged his pants down and slid the curtains of his four-poster shut. He hoped today’s rain might cleanse him of his sins just a bit, because that old routine was currently all he had planned for the evening.

Once they found shelter inside, robes still dripping and hair plastered to their forehead, his friend turned to him. “I’m drenched,” she said cheerfully. Even though it was true, she still looked a vision, her bright eyes shining in the low light and smile always in place. “I’m going to go change before dinner…say, are you still flying Imelda?” She glanced back outside at the deluge. “For your sake, I hope not.”

Sebastian put his hand to his heart, feigning offense. “Are you insinuating that I couldn’t beat the most Quidditch-obsessed witch in the school just because of a little rain?” She pursed her lips, and he could tell she was about to fire back with a witty reply; he felt his head swim a little, as it always did when they bantered back and forth, possibly resulting in a playful shove or tweaked nose that he would think about for hours later. 

Suddenly, the Quidditch-obsessed witch in question came barreling around the corner, eyes fiery, and yelled, “Sallow! Outside, now!” Sebastian groaned, partly because he most certainly did not want to race Imelda right now, and partly because the girl he’d much rather be spending time with gave him a wink and departed to her dormitory with a muttered “Good luck, birdie.”

When he trudged into the Great Hall an hour later, sopping from head to toe and more mud than man at this point, he caught her eye at the dinner table and dropped his broom unceremoniously on the ground. She got up to fuss over him as he plopped down beside her and began eating everything in sight. 

“Did you–?”

“Does it look like I did?” he grumbled around a mouthful of chicken.

“It looks like you challenged the ground to a race and lost, my dear.” 

He may as well have. The second Samantha had blown the whistle to start the race, Imelda had taken off like a perfect missile of pure speed, whipping through the hoops at the other end of the field before Sebastian could even kick off. From there, well…he decided it might save him a small bit of face if he told her he only fell off his broom once.

“Poor thing, poor thing!” She tutted, brushing the grimy locks of hair from his forehead. The food Sebastian was swallowing got caught in his throat at the contact and he choked. Ominis got up from his position on the other side of this accidental seductress and whacked Sebastian hard on the back without looking up from the copy of the Daily Prophet he was running his wand over. Once the food made its way safely to his stomach, Sebastian cleared his throat. 

“I’m a mess, I ought to go clean up,” he said. Truthfully, he knew he needed a wash to clean his body, but his trousers were also becoming tighter and tighter the longer he spent with her. He needed some time in a hot bath with nothing but his thoughts.

She smiled and swiped a line of dirt from his cheek. There was no other explanation–she was trying to kill him. His pulse hammered every time they touched, and especially hard when–

“Dirty birdie,” she giggled, and it was too much for him. Sebastian shoved back the bench he was sitting on and clambered haphazardly to his feet. 

“I’m going to go, er, to, uh, the–see you later!” 

He all but ran from the Great Hall, barely pausing to snatch his broom from where he’d left it. Merlin’s beard, this was getting out of hand. He wanted to spend time with her, but at the rate things were going, all his thoughts would be consumed with the idea of getting her naked and he doubted he’d make for a very good friend then. Adventurous and devil-may-care as she was, she was still a lady, after all. His uncle hadn’t taught him much, but he’d taught him how to respect a woman, and no part of that instruction had included zoning out mid-conversation with that woman and wondering if she cried when she came. Or if he could make her.

“Pull yourself together, pull yourself together,” he grunted as he made his way to the dungeons and told the ornate silver snake at the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory the password it required. Imelda was standing in the common room, engaged in telling the story of Sebastian’s spectacular fall(s), but he didn’t even stop to acknowledge when she called, “And there’s the man himself, the Miraculous Mud-Eater!” He blew past her and the gaggle of Slytherins gathered around the fire, all chuckling at his appearance. Their words fell on deaf ears. The only words ringing around Sebastian’s increasingly empty head were, “My own little birdie…my own little dirty…”

He closed his eyes and swayed on the stairs, gripping the bannister for support. The erection that had been encroaching since Transfiguration was close to blinding him with desire by now. Banging open the door to the seventh-year dormitory, he ignored whomever said, “Alright, Seb?” and snatched up the bath towel flung over his trunk. Then, he was out of the common room as quickly as he’d entered it. 

The nearest bathroom was only a hallway away from the Slytherin dorm, but no one ever used it. Ice cold was the only water temperature available for a bath, and the stone floors were somehow permanently covered in a layer of frost, due to the position of the dungeons underneath the Black Lake. Sebastian sprinted past the door, then skidded to a halt. Perhaps freezing and dingy was alright if it meant quiet and empty, too.

Leaning back against the cold granite of the bathtub, Sebastian finally let out a long sigh. The water had practically given him frostbite when it first came out of the faucet, but after far too long a while, it had warmed to a humane temperature, and he used his wand to heat it until it actually felt good to strip and slide into it. His muddy clothes lay in a heap next to the tub, long forgotten. All that mattered to Sebastian now was the feeling of his hand wrapping around his aching cock and the thought of her voice, sweet and clear and sinful as hell.

It always started the same way. On his first stroke, he conjured the image of her healing his cut in Crossed Wands, only in this version, he actually acted on his instincts and pulled her in by her neck for a searing kiss. Naturally, in this perfect little fantasy, she melted into him with a moan every time, and suddenly, the dueling stage was gone, and the two of them were crashing into an empty classroom and making out furiously. Sebastian pictured the feeling of her, desperate and needy for him, hopping up onto a desk so she could wrap her legs around his waist and grind against him. 

A whimpered and whiny “Fuck, fuck, fuck” left his lips as he tipped his head back against the cold floor. The hand that he wasn’t using steadied him against the bathtub stairs, foamy soap drifting around him and cleaning the dirt from his body. He wondered absently, fucking his hips into his hand, what she looked like when she took a bath. Her clothes falling away, the sight of her ass as she slowly descended into the tub, and the soapy water running down her tits. 

Sebastian was a tit man, through and through, and this latest imagined pornography had him tipping dangerously close to the edge. As he stroked himself harder and faster, water pulsating gently around him, he pictured her swimming over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck (the scent of her hair from when she’d done the same in the library filled his brain). “Little birdie,” she was whispering, and Sebastian swore he could almost taste and feel her. “Aren’t you curious about what it feels like to fuck me?”

Merlin’s fucking sake, of course he was! Back in reality, he swore and groaned as he neared his precipice. A full day of aching for this woman should have had him on the edge of coming almost instantly, but he slowed his hand just for a moment, wanting to savor the idea of her. Her, who he was most definitely sickly in love with, even though she’d had two other relationships since her time here and never expressed interest in him in any other way than friendly ribbing. 

“Oh, baby, Go-oood,” he whined under his breath, because now, in the bathtub of his dream, she was straddling his cock and sinking onto it, her heat wrapped around him like the most perfect silk glove. Then she was moving, bouncing up and down with her arms still clutching his neck and whimpering his name over and over. 

“Seb, Seb, it feels so-s-soo–fuck!” she cried, and Sebastian wished more than anything that his hands were digging into her hips instead of his own as he bit back a groan and panted. Her tits, heaving in front of his face, looked so marvelous that he couldn’t stop his imaginary self from leaning forward and catching a nipple between his teeth. The scream that tore from her lips at the sensation was enough to make him come, and the realization that she’d probably be clamped down on his cock like a vice actually did. 

He let out a hoarse cry, his vision leaving him for a moment, and then his sticky load was being spurted into the water. The relief felt almost better than the orgasm itself, tense as he had been all day. 

He really needed to pull himself together in regards to this witch. 

After he’d regained the ability to think, speak, and move, Sebastian finished his bath as if nothing at all had happened. He quickly vanished his cum from the water so that he could dip below the surface to wash his hair. As he scrubbed his skin with a sponge from the massive carved wooden cabinet that held the bath supplies, the guilt started seeping back in. She was his friend, and that was all, and that was clearly all she wanted. In the wake of finally coming, the words “little birdie” seemed more condescending than sweet. There was no romance behind them; she clearly saw him the same way she saw that first-year Hufflepuff who’d given her a single flower with shaking hands and nearly vomited while asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him. She’d given a very polite, “How sweet you are!” then explained with mock regret that she would be away for the holidays, and would not be able to attend with him.

That was Sebastian: a hapless little boy in love with a girl who was too kind to say anything about it. He mentally added three more layers of clothes to her as he thought of her, out of respect.

When he rose out of the water and looked to where he’d placed his clean pajamas, he saw with a lurch that he hadn’t put his clean pajamas anywhere. A moan of horror escaped him when he pictured them where they actually were: at the bottom of his trunk. In his haste to get in here and rub one out to the thought of his friend, he’d forgotten to grab them.

The only fabric available to him were the muddied and disgusting robes he’d raced in, or the towel currently wrapped around his waist. Sebastian glanced out the bathroom window. The moon over the Black Lake was high in the sky, and his shoulders drooped a little in relief at the thought that most everyone ought to be in bed right now, and he wouldn’t have to walk half-naked through a packed common room. 

Dirty robes safely in the laundry hamper, Sebastian secured the towel around his waist as best he could before poking his head down the hall. It was deserted, the only audible sound the soft whoooosh of the draining bathtub behind him. He exhaled, stepped into the hall, and began half-walking, half-running towards the Slytherin dormitories, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

He had almost made it to safety when the last, the absolute last voice he wanted to hear on the planet, yelped, “Oops!” from behind him. Whirling on the spot, mere feet away from the dormitory door, he locked eyes with his girl.

“What on earth are you doing down here?!” He scream-whispered in indignation, clutching the towel tightly around his waist Her eyes were the size of dinner plates, taking in his tousled wet hair, bare torso that was not at the physical peak he wished it was, and the thin grey towel that was threatening to slide further south at any minute. “It’s the middle of the damn night!” 

“I-I’m…” This was his worst nightmare. Getting caught quite literally with his pants down and the girl of his dreams was stifling laughter at the sight. He turned away from her, determined to lock himself inside the dormitory and never come out. Maybe if he took a draught of living death he could sleep for the rest of the term.

“Seb, hang on!” she laughed, darting towards him as he told the snake his password and lifted a leg to try and clamber inside. He paused and looked back at her, if only because he wasn’t really sure how he was going to gracefully lift himself with only a towel around his waist. “I sent you an owl but never heard back!” she said. “There’s leftover cherry tart in the kitchens from dinner, and I snuck you some.” She held out the tart and his heart twisted into a knot. His favorite. The fantasies he’d made up about her mere minutes ago now seemed doubly inappropriate as he saw the real thing, clad in an innocent nightgown and thick wooly robe. 

“Oh. Thanks.” He took the dessert. They both stood motionless for a second. She was tactfully looking everywhere except at his body. Sebastian prayed for death. “Well, I’m naked, so–”

“Right! I’m sorry! You just darted out of dinner so fast…” She trailed off. Sebastian grunted noncommittally and readjusted his grip on the towel. His head was starting to sweat from embarrassment. “Well, good night, anyway,” she said, trying to muster an awkward smile.

“Good night,” He responded through gritted teeth. “Thanks again for this, it looks great.” With that, he turned around and clambered very clumsily, but fully covered, through the dormitory door. 

As he lay in bed that night, Sebastian replayed the whole fiasco in his head a hundred times. He wondered what she thought of what she saw, or if she would discuss it with anyone. It wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned her seeing him nude for the first time. She certainly didn’t seem impressed. And he’d been so rude to her, when all she’d done was bring him a treat.

He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. “Shut up,” huffed Ominis from the bed next to him. He was a light sleeper and the slightest sound could stir him.

“Give me one of your sleeping potions.”

“Fine, if it’ll knock you out so I don’t have to.”

Sebastian got out of bed and quietly opened the trunk at the foot of Ominis’ bed, feeling around for the small cylindrical bottles the Gaunt boy always kept on-hand for sleepless nights. He found one, uncorked it, and drained the contents.

He had just stumbled back into bed, the effects of the potion working through his blood immediately and making his eyes heavy as boulders, when he noticed a small piece of paper on the windowsill by his bed. Undoubtedly, this was from the owl she had sent him. He managed to throw one leaden arm up to snatch it and bring it an inch away from his eyes so he could make out the delicate writing in the near-darkness of the bedroom

A little birdie told me he liked cherry tart, so I saved him some. I’ll bring it to you in a bit. 

Sleep overtook him.

Back in her own bedroom, the letter writer lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought all night. Poppy had asked her what was wrong, why she was being so quiet. She had shrugged and gone off to bed, but the lingering ache persisted between her legs.

Had Sebastian Sallow always been that fucking gorgeous?

pt. 2

masterlist

[solarmorrigan]

See, just because Steve lets Eddie and the kids play D&D at his house now doesn't mean he's really interested in the game, just the same as even though El and Max sometimes tag along, they're really there to hang out, not play. They each bring their own things to do, and one night El brings a ball of yarn and a shiny little metal hook and a vaguely rectangular yarn-thing that she focuses very hard on while the boys shout in the background.

Steve has no idea what she's doing; he'd say she's knitting, except he's almost certain that involves some kind of sticks, not a hook. But since he's not really doing anything himself, he sits down next to her and asks what she's up to.

"Joyce has been teaching me how to crochet. She says it will help with my hand-eye coordination." El holds up her project with a proud smile. "I am starting with a scarf."

It's not the world's most attractive scarf, but it's not like Steve could do better. He's still not entirely sure what crocheting is, to be perfectly honest. "Is that different from knitting?" he asks.

El nods gravely. "It is," she says, and takes to showing him how she loops the yarn over the hook and pulls it through the stitches in her scarf and adds a few more inches to the row she's working on.

When Steve's attention doesn't completely wane during her demonstration, she pulls a second ball of yarn out of her bag and presents it to Steve.

"Oh, I don't–" Steve tries to demur, but El is determined, and Steve has seen entire dimensions pale in the face of her determination.

This is how he finds himself crocheting a little chain of stitches with just his fingers, the same way Joyce had apparently started El off. El beams at him and returns to her own project, occasionally checking on his progress. The chain is a few feet long by the time everyone needs to be driven home, and Steve decides it actually hadn't been a bad way to pass the time. Kind of relaxing.

The next time everyone is over, El sits down with her scarf, and after a short while, Steve sits down next to her. He compliments how much longer the scarf has gotten (and it does seem like the shape has evened out a bit as she's been going along). She smiles and pulls another ball of yarn out of her bag. This time, she has an extra hook and seems intent on showing Steve what to do with it.

Almost involuntarily, Steve's attention flashes to the group clustered around the table, hesitating to take the yarn from El, and she frowns.

"Joyce says these types of skills are important for everyone to have," El says firmly, and, well– Steve's not really going to argue.

He learns how to crochet a chain with the hook. It feels odd in his hands at first—the shape too small, the metal a little too slick, the yarn not wrapping naturally around his fingers the way it does El's—but he gets the hang of it. When El is pleased with his progress, she shows him the stitch she's been using: a simple single crochet. It's tougher than it looks, and Steve understands immediately why El's scarf is so uneven; neither of them have ever done anything like this before.

Still, he doesn't hate it.

In fact, he really kind of enjoys it.

He enjoys it enough that he asks El to show him more the next time she's over. She's still new herself and is really only working with pretty much the same couple of stitches, but she proudly teaches him what she knows, and Steve picks it up as fast as she's able to lay it down.

Steve goes out and buys his own supplies, no longer content with mooching off of El's. He hadn't realized there were so many different kinds of yarn, and resigns himself to awkwardly asking one of the craft store employees what type might be best for beginners.

The employee—a woman about his mother’s age with a much warmer smile and far less judgement in her eyes—explains with great enthusiasm what all those different types of yarn might be used for, and how the size of the hook affects the outcome of the project, and shows him so many different pattern books his head spins. He realizes that she probably upsells him on a lot of shit, but he leaves with a few different sizes of hooks, some new yarn, and more excitement for a hobby than he's felt probably since high school.

El and Robin are the only ones who know about his new hobby, of course. It's not really that he's ashamed to tell the others, he just knows how teenage boys work and he's not keen on giving a bunch of fifteen-year-olds another reason to bully him. Maybe in a few months. In the meantime, he crochets at home while he's listening to the radio or watching TV, and he crochets at work during down times. Robin finds his newfound hobby morbidly fascinating, but vehemently denies any and all offers to teach her.

("I will find a way to damage myself with that hook and I think we both know that," she says. "It's just kind of wild to see you with a grandma hobby."

Steve threatens to tell El she called it that, and Robin shortly finds a new label for it.)

Fall rolls around and the air acquires a chill sometime in mid-October. Steve's been making practice scarves for a little while now (largely because he really only knows how to make rectangles at this point, but he doesn’t have the attention span for a whole blanket just yet), and he even considers wearing his least heinous attempt despite the fact he's never really wanted for good winter clothes. Then he notices Eddie.

Most of their little group has begun dressing appropriately for the weather, but Eddie doesn't do much more than add a pair of fingerless black gloves and maybe a heavier leather jacket to his ensemble. Steve's not even sure it's because he can't afford it – he's pretty sure it's because Eddie is committed to his aesthetic. Nancy had tried to force an extra scarf on him one day after a little cold snap, when they'd woken to frost on the ground (the scarf is blue, patterned with white snowflakes; it's actually Mike’s, but Mike is also refusing to wear it and Steve suspects Nancy doesn’t want to hold it, but also doesn’t want to get in trouble for letting Mike lose it), but Eddie had declined, insisting it doesn't match his vibe.

Steve can respect this. He himself has a certain aesthetic going on. However, he can also see that Eddie is definitely cold, and that just won't do.

He picks through the scarves and other various wooly things he's accumulated so far, but decides none of them would suit Eddie and, besides that, none of them are really warm enough. If he's going to make Eddie a scarf, it ought to be a good one.

So Steve sucks it up and heads into Melvald's one day when he knows Joyce will be on shift, hoping she won't be too busy for a quick chat.

When he catches her, Steve explains that El had shown him the basics of crocheting but that his ambitions have outgrown his skills and maybe if she isn't too busy sometime, Joyce would be willing to show him a little more?

Joyce, because she’s a saint, says she would be delighted, and invites Steve to come over on their next shared day off.

When he gets there, she tries to ask him who he's making the scarf for, and the best he manages is, "...someone."

Joyce bites down on a smile. "Someone?"

"It's a surprise," Steve finally declares.

"For everyone?"

"Yes."

Joyce bravely manages to not laugh at Steve and instead asks him what kind of scarf he thinks Someone would like.

Steve decides that it needs to be thick, but it should also be soft. It should also be textured, because Ed– because Someone really likes fiddling with things. He can't get too ambitious with colors or patterns, but he decides that black and grey stripes will be perfectly suitable.

(He doesn't kid himself into thinking that by the time their brainstorming session is over, Joyce hasn't figured out exactly who he's talking about, but she's kind enough not to say it out loud.)

Steve's always been good with repetition and patterns—it's probably one of the reasons he’d found crocheting so relaxing in the first place—and he picks up the new stitches with ease under Joyce's deft instruction. She sends him home with the practice piece he'd made with some of her scrap yarn, and after a quick stopover at the craft store on his way home (he briefly gets stuck between shades of grey, but eventually decides on the silvery one over the steely one), he's ready to begin.

He expects making the scarf to be tougher, but once he gets into the rhythm of it, he sails right through. It takes him less than a week (albeit devoting a few solid hours to it every day, possibly more on his days off) to end up with what is, if he may say so himself, a pretty fine scarf.

The challenge comes in actually giving it to Eddie.

Christmas would be an excellent excuse for presenting it to him, except that's a little over a month away, and Steve doesn't want Eddie to go cold until then. Instead, he takes to keeping the scarf in his glove compartment just in case the perfect occasion for giving Eddie a scarf arises.

And much to Steve's surprise, one actually does.

It's right after the first real snow, and Steve has insisted on driving to pick Eddie up so they can hang out (Steve has nightmares about Eddie's driving when road conditions are optimal, never mind when the roads may be icy). He can see Eddie shivering under his jacket, blowing warm air into his cupped hands (Steve wonders if he could learn how to crochet gloves at some point, too. Ones with full fingers), so he ever-so-casually gestures to the glove box and tells Eddie, "Hey, if you're cold, I've got an extra scarf in there."

He's possibly not as casual as he hopes he is (or maybe Eddie just sees through him, like he always seems to), because Eddie gives him a look. "You do, huh?"

"Yep."

Steve concentrates very hard on the road in order to avoid Eddie's eyes. It doesn't stop him from hearing the little laugh Eddie lets out before popping open the glove compartment.

"Oh," Eddie says quietly as he pulls the scarf out, likely having been expecting another castoff piece of outerwear. "This is... actually really nice."

For a moment, Steve can't help but glance over to see the way Eddie is fingering the crocheted ridges of the scarf, running a thumb over the bright silver stripes picked out of the black, and he immediately looks back up at the road.

"Yeah. You should– you can, uh. Keep it. If you want," he says, and wonders what happened to the days when he was smooth.

"No, man, this is, like, for real nice. I couldn't take this," Eddie says, though he's still holding the scarf in his lap.

Steve draws a breath in. "I mean, I was kind of hoping you would, since it's for you."

"Seriously?"

They have unfortunately arrived at Steve's house at this point, and there will be no avoiding the conversation now.

"Yeah," Steve says. "I, uh. Made it for you. So you should take it. Don't let my hard work go to waste, yeah?"

"You're shitting me," Eddie unfolds the scarf and holds it up in delighted scrutiny. "You made this?"

(Distantly, Steve appreciates that the emphasis isn't on "you made this?" Like Eddie doesn't immediately doubt he's capable, only that he's holding a handmade item at all.)

"Yeah. No big deal." Steve shrugs.

"You made this for me." Eddie looks at Steve, and it sounds like that had been meant as a question, though it comes out in flat uncertainty.

"Yeah. Just noticed you were cold, but you won't wear anything that doesn't match your aesthetic," Steve tries to tease, wiggling his fingers at Eddie's outfit, but Eddie doesn't say anything in return.

He doesn't say anything for just long enough that Steve gets insecure all over again, reaching hesitantly for the scarf.

"But, I mean, if that's weird, or whatever, you don't have to-"

"Nope. Fuck off, I'm wearing this forever." Eddie loops the scarf quickly around his neck and squeezes the ends in his hands. "Jesus, this is soft."

Steve grins. "I'm not sure it'll last forever, but I can make you another after than one wears out."

"You'd better," Eddie says, and he's grinning too. "So, what, you knit?"

Steve points a very serious finger into Eddie's face. "Crochet. There's a difference," he says sternly.

Then, because he can't help it, he bops the end of Eddie's nose before getting out of the car, leaving Eddie to scramble out behind him, laughing and calling him a dork as he goes.

(The kids, incidentally, don't tease Steve nearly as much as he'd thought they would when they find out.

This is possibly because they're more mature than he gave them credit for, but more likely it’s because El is standing beside him and daring them to say anything unfavorable about their shared hobby.

Mostly they just let it slide, though Dustin demands to know why Eddie got a scarf and he didn't. Then Lucas wants one, too, because Mike and Max have already received various bits of outerwear from El, and he's not about to be left out. And then Robin, of course, will want to know why Steve hasn’t made her anything, once she finds out that he’s making things for the kids.

Steve resigns himself to a busy winter spent under a pile of yarn.

It's not really a hardship.)

[Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]

[godsandmonsters505]

Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith

dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader

(AU where the apocalypse never happened)

Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.

Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging

Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)

Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances

Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.

Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.

And that's how you got here.

You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.

"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."

Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.

"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.

You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.

"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.

The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.

"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.

"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."

"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.

"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."

"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.

"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.

"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.

Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.

"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.

He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"

You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.

"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."

"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.

You laugh softly under your breath at his response.

"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.

The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.

The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."

A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."

"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"

Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.

"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?

Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.

"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.

Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.

You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.

"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."

You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.

"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"

"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.

The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.

You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.

"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.

"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.

You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.

"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.

"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.

The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.

"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.

He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.

You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.

"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.

"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."

"Feel like watching it again?"

You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.

"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."

"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."

You laugh at him. "I feel you."

You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.

When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.

You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.

All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.

"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.

You look over to the television and see a black screen.

"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.

What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.

"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.

"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."

"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."

"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."

The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.

"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.

"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"

A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.

You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.

His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?

He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.

You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.

You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.

"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."

"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.

"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.

Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.

His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.

As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.

You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.

You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.

Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.

"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.

He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.

"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.

"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.

He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.

Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.

Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.

"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.

"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."

As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.

He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.

He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.

"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.

Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.

You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.

"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.

"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.

He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.

He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.

He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.

"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"

"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.

You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.

Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.

Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.

Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.

"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.

He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.

"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."

"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.

You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.

"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.

"Do you want to?" He counters.

"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"

"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."

You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"

He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.

"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.

"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.

"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.

Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.

"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.

"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."

He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.

"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."

Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.

His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.

Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.

"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.

"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.

"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."

"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."

His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.

He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.

"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.

"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.

Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.

He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.

Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.

You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.

Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.

"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.

"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."

You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.

To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.

Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.

"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."

Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.

Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.

"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.

He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.

You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.

"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."

Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.

Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.

Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.

The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.

Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.

"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.

"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch4

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said with a wide smile as she stood proudly in front of the large set of doors.

Your eyes could only widen as you thought of the man behind those doors. Such a powerful person was able to make Alchemax what it was. This was going to be your future boss. As nervous as you were, you had to make a good first impression!

"Stop scaring the new girl,"

Your ears perked up as you recognized the voice. Your breathing nearly halted as the doors began to open, revealing Miguel.

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

Your heart stilled for a moment as you recalled everything you had done. Your clumsiness for bumping into the CEO on your interview day, chatting with him so casually in the elevator and showing every form of weakness possible.

As you heart started to gain pace, your chest swelled with regret. It was difficult, but you held back your tears. Noticing the treat on his desk, you immediately bowed your head,

"I-I'm so...so sorry! I-I-"

"There is no need to apologize. It is I who should give my apologies. I was the one who deceived you." Miguel said with a smile.

"Ew, your smiling." Lyla muttered.

As Miguel bickered lowly with Lyla, you still felt your head spinning a mile a minute.

"Anyway-" Miguel gently shoved Lyla to the side, "I was more so enjoying the presence of someone who did not know who I was, which led me to fooling you. For that, I apologize."

"Ah-" You gasped, finally letting yourself breathe, "S-So...was I hired...because of...of my skill or-"

"Duuuuuh, girl. This guy doesn't know the meaning of special treatment. He's just a big oaf." Lyla pitched in with a smug eating grin. Miguel could only grumble to her response,

"Please ignore her statements about me. I look forward to working with you from now on. As you know, Lyla will be going on vacation very soon. During this time she will guide you on everything you will have to do. That is, if you are still willing-"

"Yes! Yes I am!" You nearly shouted before covering your mouth, "S-Sorry, I am. I really want to better...myself and you have given me this um, opportunity."

Glancing up at Miguel, you felt butterflies in your stomach as he smiled towards you.

"I'm glad to hear that." His voice was still so gentle, "Well, I have a meeting I must get ready for. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and we will see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Y-Yes!"

-----------

Miguel was the CEO. Miguel was the CEO. MIGUEL WAS THE CEO OF ALCHEMAX! AND I MADE A FOOL OF MYSELF!

The thoughts raged through your mind as you quietly sat on the bus on your way home. Biting your nail, you tried to calm down, but it was no use. Despite Miguel being so kind to you, you still couldn't stop from recalling your foolishness.

You had to make it up to him.

You HAD too.

------------

"Why are you being so nice?" Lyla asked once the two entered Miguel's office.

"Am I not human?" Miguel said with a snort, "Is it so wrong of me to treat another with kindness? I am surrounded by selfish fools and greedy bastards every second of the day. It is nice to have a change."

"Yeah, but I really don't want to see her bend over on your desk crying your name out when I come back."

"Lyla!" Miguel felt his cheeks burn, "You know me better than that."

"I do. Which is why I'm totally predicting a few outcomes."

"You have little faith in me,"

Miguel sat at his desk and let out a heavy sigh. As nice as he may have seemed to you, Lyla was not wrong. As a man, Miguel already had a thought, though for a mere second, of you under him. The face you might make when he shoved his dick inside those walls of yours.

"You're totally thinking about it now, gross." Lyla chuckled, "You're lucky she's a quiet one, but....that's also a problem."

Clearing his throat, Miguel rid himself of those naughty thoughts as he listened to Lyla.

"I know. (Y/n) will get eaten alive by my business partners. I'm sure you can find a way to boost her confidence in this short amount of time."

"Against those horny old bastards? Duh," Lyla hummed before plopping herself against Miguel's couch, "It's her I'm more worried about."

"She hasn't-"

"Every women who tries to enter your life has fled because of her. You're lucky I have the biggest pair of balls in his city to even stand a chance against that snake."

"I recall...I wonder if she still has your bite marks-"

"Bitch better! They were sharp and clean from my dental appointment!" Lyla huffed before fixing her hair, "But even so, not even I am capable of preparing someone against her. I fear that your new assistant will be eaten alive."

"Then I'll be the only one of us to have faith in (Y/n)."

"Hm,"

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Miguel inhaled deeply as he stood against his balcony, enjoying the quiet night. It felt strange to not be so stressed out after a long day of work. Taking a sip of his drink, Miguel couldn't help but recall your expression from earlier.

You looked like a deer caught in headlights once Miguel revealed himself. Your face turned bright red and your words fumbling with each other. It was cute. Miguel assumed that you were overthinking and panicked.

But, he still had faith in you. You hadn't made any sort of move to try and win him over yet. Most tend to try and meet with Miguel after hours. Instead, you sent another apology email for your actions and for the salty snack.

"How has such a little mouse survived this long? In this city of predators like myself?"

Humming to the thought, Miguel also recalled that 'snake' that Lyla brought up. All Miguel had to do was hide your existence for the next few months and you'll be fine.

"Hm, but will she be fine against me?"

---------

It was day two of you officially working at Alchemax. Lyla was going to show you the ropes.

However, you had to get Miguel's morning coffee.

"Miguel turns into such a grumpy beast when he doesn't have his coffee. I've already memorized his order, but I wrote it down for you along with the place we get it from. I also put my order on there, and feel free to get yourself something."

"A-Are you sure? This is the company card." You stuttered, feeling a little nervous about a simple coffee run.

"It's Miguel's card and he doesn't mind. Once we've all had our energy, I'll start showing you the first morning tasks."

"Okay,"

You tried to stop shaking as you put the card and paper in your wallet. Hurrying downstairs, you tried to calm down. This was your first unofficial task for Miguel. A simple coffee run. How bad could it really be?

------

You shuddered as you stood in front of your old job. Your hands trembling as you held the piece of paper in your hand. You hardly worked this early in the morning, so it would make sense why you never thought of Alchemax workers getting their coffee from here.

Hell, you hardly even noticed how close the two jobs were to one another.

Inhaling deeply, you made your way inside. Sweat rolled down your neck as you saw your old co-workers in the middle of a rush. Each of them yelling out orders and ingredients. As long as they stayed busy and didn't notice you, it would be fine.

"Wel-Oh! (Y/n)! Nice of you to join us."

And there was the hostility.

"What?! She's here?! After she didn't show up for my shift yesterday?!"

"....I....quit...." You whispered, trying to hide behind the line of people waiting for their order.

"Well since you're here, clock in and help us."

"I....can't," You tried to say.

Didn't your manager tell everyone that you quit? You made sure to call them last night to inform them that you weren't going to work there anymore. You quit this toxic job for Alchemax. So why, why is everyone still so harsh?

"(Y/N)! We need the help!" Another coworker yelled out.

You were shaking as everyone started to stare at you. The paper in your hand starting to crumble as you shook. They didn't need your help. You were just going to make a mess with how busy it was. They just wanted to yell at you.

"I-I can't! I'm just here for my new job!" You nearly cried out.

"Tch, what a liar."

And there it was. You lowered your head as the line kept moving. The stares you were getting were intense. Everyone probably thought that you were an asshole. As you waited, you felt your phone buzz.

"H-Hello?" You stuttered.

"Ah! (Y/N)! I hope it isn't too late, could you-"

"(Y/N)! I heard from the others that you refuse to help, especially after not showing up yesterday. We need to have a word in my office." Your morning manager hissed.

"B-But...I-I-"

"It seems busy. I'll text you the item." Lyla said before hanging up.

Oh, how you wanted to cry. What were you to do? You could never stand up to the managers. Why didn't the night manager inform everyone that you quit?

"To. My. Office."

"What seems to be the problem?"

Your breathing hitched as you turned to find Miguel. You couldn't hold back the tears as Miguel placed his hand against your shoulder. It was amazing. Everyone immediately froze as they stared at your new boss. Were you the only one who didn't know that he was the CEO?

"You're-" Your manager snapped out of his shocked state, "I was just going to handle my associate about her teamwork and customer service."

"Your associate?" Miguel scoffed, "From my understanding and resources, she quit your establishment last night. (Y/n) works for me now. If this shop doesn't wish to treat my associates fairly, then Alchemax will gladly take our business elsewhere." Miguel said firmly, motioning you to follow him out.

"I'm sorry, sir! We weren't aware that she quit. Please, allow us to make you your drink on the house-"

"We don't need your charity. Instead, apologize to her."

"S-Sir, I...I really-"

"Don't let them talk down to you as if you're nothing," Miguel whispered in your ear, "You deserve to be treated fairly."

As if something was stuck in your throat, you could only nod towards Miguel. Glancing towards your old manager, you waited for his forced apology. You still didn't like the stares. You knew that you could never come back here after this.

It took a minute, but your old manager finally apologized. Miguel just smirked before walking you out of the shop. Finally feeling like you could breathe, you turned to face Miguel once you were a good distance away.

"I-I'm sorry for causing t-trouble...B-But...How did you know I-I was there?" You asked with a stutter. Miguel removed his hand from your shoulder,

"I normally come in a little late to give Lyla her 'beauty time' as I call it. It also gives her time to get my morning coffee without having to rush. I tend to take this route every now and then and couldn't help but notice you in the café."

"I'm sorry I'm being a burden already," Frowning as you lowered your head, you stared at the crumbled paper in your hand, "I couldn't even get this right-"

"Don't cry," Miguel hushed, lifting your chin, "You can't blame yourself for the foolish acts of others."

"I'm sorry," You whimpered once more. Miguel just let out a soft sigh, wiping a tear away,

"Come. I don't have a meeting for another hour or so. Why don't we spend some time looking for a new coffee shop? I wouldn't want you going back to that hostile place."

Watching Miguel hold his arm out, you sniffed as you calmed down. Lyla said that Miguel was a beast without his coffee, but he was still ever so kind to you. Taking his arm, you gladly took Miguel's offer as you spent some time getting to know your new boss.

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Lyla pouted as she sat in her office, staring at the clock.

"Where the hell is my coffee?"

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Okay, so hear me out, with that sweet reader I would love to see her finding out Mizu is a female. But she doesn’t react and doesn’t change how she treats Mizu. When it is talked about after some time she just says, “it doesn’t change that your Mizu. And I am here for you.”

Mizu was washing the grime off of their skin and cleansing their more serious wounds carefully and diligently in prevention of any and all possible infection within the waters of a nearby lake before reaching for the needle and thread.

Meanwhile you were trudging along the small pathway through the woods towards the lake whilst carrying some freshly cleaned and sewn up change of clothes for Mizu, a temporary substitute for them to wear whilst you were had at work with repairing their old clothing; after having learnt rather quickly that they were particular towards their own style of clothing, after trying to show Mizu the variety of clothing made available in the most recent town you visited.

Nothing there seemed to make all that much of a difference to Mizu and soon or later you dropped the topic of clothes all together, and quickly returning to search for the reason why you were in town in the first place. The rest of the town visit was nothing more then a blur of blood and steel, all you remembered of the outcome was Mizu being hurt and their clothes were ripped and torn in a multitude of ways, stained with drying blood.

So when you finally made it to the cleaning that gave way to the lake presented before you and were about to voice your presence to Mizu, your eyes looked up from the clothes in your arms to a sight that easily took away your breath;

There Mizu was sitting at the edge of the lake, their bare body dripping wet, as raven black hair clutching onto their back as the goosebumps upon Mizu’s skin were awoken from the cold breeze that passed now and then. You could see everything that was once well hidden, and all you could think was the same thought you’ve had since first meeting Mizu; ethereal.

‘Apologies for the intrusion Mizu.’ You smiled at them as you continued to make your way towards a tree stump, placing down the clothes upon it neatly before picking up the torn, bloodied clothes Mizu came to bathe in the the lake in, taking them into your arms before looking back at Mizu, who was looking at you with an unreadable expression. ‘I just came to bring you a fresh set of clothes, just for the meantime.’ You gestured to the bundle of clothes in your arms only to receive a stare in response. ‘I’ll be leaving now, enjoy the rest of your bathe Mizu.’ You added before taking your leave back through the small trail through the woods.

Mizu on the other hand was uncertain how to handle to you now knowing, though it was purely accidental but that didn’t matter because you now knew, and yet your lack of reaction -or any that would’ve been clear as crystal upon your face- was Mizu’s main point of intrigue. You didn’t change the way you acted towards them, if anything you continued with your task as though nothing was new, nothing had altered the way you perceived them. It was perplexing experience to say the least for them and Mizu vowed to catch you up about this later on, but until then stiching up their wounds and getting changed was their top priority.

It went before long that everyone expect you had since fell asleep, Mizu chose to take this as a sign to strike up a conversation with you in regard to earlier; not wanting to miss out a single detail they wanted to ask before you go to sleep. So just as you were about to succumb to sleep yourself, you were about to wish Mizu goodnight as you walked past, only to be stopped when you felt their hand grab ahold of your wrist; Stopping you in your tracks completely.

‘Mizu, is everything alright?’ You asked and just like that the words left Mizu’s mouth faster than their brain could’ve processed them. ‘You saw me, down by the lake.’ Mizu started, their hand on your wrist squeezed a little tighter. ‘You saw all of me and yet didn’t bat an eye,’ Mizu now looked you dead in the eyes, ‘why, why didn’t you?’

‘Does my answer affect our relationship going forward?’ You questioned them softly as you sat yourself down next to Mizu, with patience and kindness at the ready, just like you always had.

‘I’ll base my judgment upon your response.’ Mizu replied, making you smile, they never wanted to give away how they felt so soon into the conversation, especially when there was some important and vital information for them to gain from it. ‘What I saw back at the lake, it doesn’t change that you’re Mizu and so I didn’t see it becoming of me to change my attitude towards you because of it.’ You began, looking Mizu into their eyes to prove your seriousness about this. ‘And I want you to also know that I’m still here for you, from now until we’re forced to part ways.’

Mizu didn’t say anything but their grip on your wrist immeditly went slack, giving you free range to move again but you chose not to. Not wanting to leave their side just yet. ‘I don’t know whether that’s the response you were looking for but I hope it was the one you needed to hear. I am here for you Mizu. Always.’ You finished before heading off to sleep.

[bratbby333]

your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking. 

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you. 

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing. 

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable. 

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!” 

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!” 

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it. 

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was. 

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism. 

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her. 

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating. 

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all. 

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again. 

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it. 

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right? 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing? 

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure. 

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah. 

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all. 

But so what? That's what friends are for. 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls. 

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were. 

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away. 

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way. 

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together. 

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late. 

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress. 

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too. 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings. 

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you. 

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right? 

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble. 

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce. 

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them. 

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on.  A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?” 

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.” 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin. 

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you. 

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours. 

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be. 

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all. 

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you. 

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru. 

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his. 

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

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[clandestinegardenias]

The whole AI…debacle always makes me think of this thing we have in knitting communities called “process or product” where like, you’ll ask a knitter (or other fiber artist) if they are a Process Knitter or a Product Knitter.

The difference being, a Product Knitter’s primary goal and interest in knitting is the product they get at the end of it. They knit a sock because they want a nice knit sock.

A Process Knitter, by contrast, has the primary goal of enjoying the process of knitting something. They don’t necessarily care all that much about the resulting object, so much as they enjoy the planning and movement and steps to make it. Classic example, my best friend in high school crocheted the same blanket with the same yarn like 4 times—when she ran out of yarn she’d rip it all out and start over cause she didn’t even necessarily want the blanket, she just enjoyed the process (and yarn is expensive).

And obviously those are extremes and people tend to fall on a continuum blah blah blah, but I think ALL knitters to a certain extent value the process. The work and effort that goes into it is PART OF THE ENTIRE POINT. Yes, it can be hard! And time consuming! And sometimes frustrating and it takes a lot of mental energy and practice and creativity!

BUT THAT IS THE POINT.

That’s part of what makes it so enjoyable and rewarding, regardless of the outcome (though that’s great too! Love me a nice hand knit hat)

And idk, I think there’s something to say about AI and the desire for a product with no process. Maybe I’m just old and crotchety but I can’t help thinking that anything “created” by AI is missing at least half the point